Page 19 of Prince Charming

He was no one’s sir. He’d told her a million times to call him Tag. His dirty mind took him to places he should be ashamed of visiting, while listening to her huskSirat him in different scenarios.

Yeah, Prince Charming had a filthy imagination, and he’d used it on her more than he should.

He shook his head. A few paces behind him he said, “Hold up. Let me walk you out to your car, it’s late.”

“I have no car.”

What in the hell? Eyes narrowed.

“Are you waiting for a cab?”

“Taxi cabs are far too expensive. I walk.”

Now Tag was remembering every night when she left, she’d been fucking walking home? Why did he assume she had a car when she had nothing to start with? Because everyone had a car, so it hadn’t occurred to him.

“Good evening, Sir.”

“Hold up. I’ll drive you.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “No, thank you. I am fine to walk. I like it.”

“Marianna… it’s not safe for a woman to walk alone at night, and it’s been spitting snow all day.”

“I am, how do you say? Capable of getting myself home. It is not far.”

Sighing at her hastygoodnight,Tag watched her walk out.

It wasn’t right.

He thought about following her, but what kind of stalker would that make him?

Turning on his boots, intent on locking up and going to the club to see what grub was on offer. Hoping for some sugar stuff from Paige’s shop. Reaper’s woman could seduce a devil with her pastries.

Tag wasn’t a devil, and he wasn’t interested in Reaper’s woman.

He thought about a sexy ballerina for the rest of the night.

Off-limits, he reminded himself.

Tell that to his more than enthusiastic dick.

SEVEN

“I wouldn’t suit being dead.” - Judge

One of theSoulssources of revenue was corruption.

Denver wasn’t all that big. But they boasted some of the biggest corrupters of the law, and they paid large to keep their secrets hidden.

At 3:42 a.m. bundled in a black sheepskin jacket and leather gloves, Tag’s scuffed biker boots crunched snow underfoot, trekking through the forest of trees toward the bunkers built by theSouls.

Because of Hawk’s security abilities, the bunkers were impenetrable. It needed a palm print and eight-digit passcode for access.

“Fuck, it’s colder than a nun’s pussy.” Whined a prospect behind Tag. He cocked his head back and caught plumes of breath coming out of Judge’s mouth.

The kid was new to the club, thanks to Lawless and his dark and weird ways, only Lawless himself could decipher. As far as outsiders knew, the younger male prospected for theSouls. To the patched brothers, they knew Judge was Angela’s bodyguard. Hired and controled by Lawless himself from his Wyoming prison cell.

“Been near many nuns’ pussies, prospect?”

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