Page 28 of Pirate

“You’re my ride back to my car, dumbass,” she chided. “Get off the damn bike and come inside.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do I have ‘Sophia’s Bitch’ tattooed on my forehead?”

She grinned at him. “Today you do.” Then she turned on her heel and started up the marble staircase.

Pirate was so tempted to just leave her fine ass but instead found himself turning off his hog. Eyeing the Tomahawk, he followed her sexy booty up the stairs.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait until he could fuck that ass. He’d tried once, but Sophia had balked. It wasn’t something she’d done before and claimed she wasn’t interested in doing. Ever. But Pirate had every intention of changing her mind. The idea of being the first man—theonly man—to take her ass was too tantalizing.

He’d only been inside the Groveton estate once before. It was massive with an indoor pool, movie theater, game room, and an untold number of bedrooms. Despite having raised threechildren into adulthood, the place had a museum feel to it rather than a homey feel. Artwork and sculptures adorned the foyer. Directly opposite of the ten foot double front doors was a dual staircase. Immediately above them was a giant chandelier with crystals dangling, causing a myriad of rainbow dots to dance around the entryway.

The expansive dining room to their left could easily seat thirty guests. Place settings were already at each seat as if waiting to be used. Pirate knew that Mr. Groveton’s offices, den, and gym were to the right. He’d never been in that direction before.

Sophia went straight, walking beneath the banister that connected the two staircases. Her biker boots squeaked on the hardwood floor. Pirate’s sounded more like a clobber as he followed. He’d never been this way before. The entire place felt stale to Pirate. What must it have been like growing up here for Sophia?

Sophia lived in the guesthouse towards the front of the property. Since her kidnapping, Mr. and Mrs. Groveton had hired Keys to set up a security system at both the guesthouse and the estate. While the guesthouse was still larger than the two bedroom apartment Pirate shared with his brother and Jasmine, it was very Sophia. She was a bit of a slob and refused to have her parents’ maids in to clean up after her. Clothes, shoes, magazines, books, blankets, pillows, coffee mugs… It was all strewn about in various places. Pirate had yet to find the television remote in the same place twice.

The back of the estate forked off into three different hallways. Or, Pirate supposed, in a mansion like this, they were calledwings. Sophia kept to the left. A large wooden archway opened into a sunroom of sorts. The walls and ceiling were all glass. A variety of seating was offered, including a row of hammocks.

Bamboo fans gave the illusion of a summer’s breeze. Based on the heat in the room, it was either designed to hold in sunlight or there was a hidden heater around.

In the center of the room were two parallel couches facing each other that sat perpendicular to the entrance. A wide glass table with a tea set separated the two lavish pieces of furniture.

Mrs. Groveton sat on one couch across from a man Pirate didn’t know. He was dressed in a white, red, and black track racing suit, giving away who owned the Tomahawk. He stood up upon them entering. He had platinum blonde hair that was longer in the front than the back, in what Pirate would classify as a Clichéd Bad Boy Look. From the lack of road dust on his outfit, Pirate wondered just how new that track suit was.

The man was around five-ten, lean with muscle. As he stood, Pirate saw his helmet on the couch next to him with a pair of white gloves inside. The entire getup, including the Tomahawk outside, screamed money.

Mrs. Groveton turned her head at their entrance but did not stand. “Oh, Sophia! You have great timing. Come, sit.” Then she noticed Pirate behind her. “Oh, I didn’t realize you had company. It’s, um,Pirate, right?”

Pirate wasn’t sure why she emphasized his road name. He nodded once. “Yes, ma’am.”

Sophia didn’t take the seat her mother indicated. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here, Fletcher?”

Fletcher? Pirate frowned. Why did that name sound familiar?

“Good to see you too, baby.” The man’s eyes roamed her up and down, clearly liking the tight outfit Pirate had been admiring on her all day. “Damn, you look good, Sophia.” Then he turned to Mrs. Groveton. “Excuse my language, ma’am.”

Mrs. Groveton’s cheeks reddened as she waved him off. “Stop with all that ‘ma’am’ bit. You’re home from the service and I couldn’t be happier. You know you can call me ‘Bea’.”

The man, Fletcher, crooked a smile at her. “It’s my training, Bea. Always show respect to a beautiful woman.”

Mrs. Groveton’s cheeks got even redder. “Oh, you!” She even giggled.

Sophia at least was not fazed by the man’s obvious flirting with her mom. “Fletcher,” she practically growled. “I thought I told you to go step on a landmine when I last saw you.”

“Sophia!” Mrs. Groveton said, aghast.

Fletcher didn’t appear offended. “It’s been years, Sophia. I was hoping we could put everything behind us.”

“Sure. And which bimbo are you going to cheat on me with next?”

Pirate’s eyebrows flew up. Clearly, this man was an ex. He was close enough to the family to be doing that weird flattery/flirting thing he was just doing to make Mrs. Groveton blush, plus she’d told him to call her ‘Bea’. Even Jasmine called Mr. and Mrs. Groveton by their title. Then there was the bimbo/cheating comment.

The fact that the man had dropped the word ‘training’ so casually indicated to a military background. Sophia had also told him to go step on a landmine. Didn’t take a genius to put it all together.

Pirate’s hackles rose at the idea of this douchebag touching Sophia again.

Fletcher took a step forward towards Sophia, but Pirate also stepped forward. He placed himself squarely in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest and staring Fletcher down. The track suit prevented Pirate from seeing if he had any tattoos that confirmed which branch he’d served in.

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