Page 32 of Riot's Thorn
Back in the living room, I’m putting my boots on when Parker appears. I nearly choke on my own spit at how pretty she looks. She somehow manages to look sexy and adorable at the same time. Her clothing hugs her feminine curves, while her glasses and braids give her an innocent quality.
“This okay?” She holds her hands out to her sides.
I stalk over to her, crowding her space, and grip the base of her throat, careful not to apply pressure. She sucks in asharp breath that could be from fear or desire, it’s hard to tell, especially when her proximity stops me from being about to look her in the eyes. “You look like every man’s wet dream.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment, but if it is, I need you to back off.”
Her request is denied, even when she places her hands on my chest and tries to push. Instead, I release her throat and grab her by the wrists, keeping her close. “I need to lay down some ground rules for tonight.”
“What kind of rules?”
“Stay where I can see you at all times.”
“Afraid I’ll run?”
“No, I’m not worried about that because if you do, I’ll just hunt you down.” I cock my head and finally meet her gaze so she can see the truth in my words. “Actually, feel free to run. It turns me on to think about chasing you down.”
“You’re fucked in the head.”
“More than you know.”
“Any other rules?” she sneers through clenched teeth.
“Don’t be bitch and don’t get drunk.”
“Fine.” When she tugs on my hold, I release her.
Opening the front door, I gesture for her to leave the confinement of the cabin. “I hope I don’t regret this.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PARKER
Stepping outside, I take a breath of fresh air, then choke and sputter. There’s a coffee can overflowing with cigarette butts next to the door that stinks to high hell. I knew Riot smoked sometimes, so that’s not a shock, but would it kill him to change the can now and then?
The wood slats on the porch creak and bend with each step I take, making me worry my foot will go right through. It’s not an unsubstantiated concern because there are numerous holes where feet have apparently done just that, not to mention the exposed rusty nails and the thick layer of dirt coating it.
This is my first look at the outside of my new home, at least if Riot has anything to say about it, and I can’t say I’m surprised. The stone chimney is collapsing, the roof has actual plants growing on top of it, and the wood siding is weathered and warped. If this place was inspected, it would be condemned, and that’s the nicest thing I can say about it.
“Are you just gonna stand there and stare all afternoon, or are we going?” Riot gripes.
I hate myself for it, but I walk two steps behind him, allowing his large frame to shield me from prying eyes as we enter the backyard of a giant warehouse. At least, it looks like a giantwarehouse, minus the large glass trifold doors that are wide open, combining the indoor and outdoor spaces.
The patio is defined by gray cement pavers with multiple groupings of outdoor furniture. Above us is a wooden pergola lined with white lights. Wait, are those skulls? I narrow my eyes and confirm my suspicions.
The hot summer air is thick and heavy with the scent of barbecued meats, making my stomach grumble. But I don’t think I could eat anything right now even if I wanted to, not with twenty or more sets of eyes on me. I slide to my right, hiding more behind Riot in hopes they’ll all get back to doing whatever they were doing before. No such luck.
Riot reaches back and grabs my wrist, dragging me to his side. “This is Parker. She’s staying with me while we figure some shit out.”
“Sure, let’s go with that,” I mutter, only loud enough for Riot to hear.
“So this is the lady friend I’ve heard so much about?” the biggest man I’ve ever seen in real life calls out. Seriously, this guy is like seven feet tall and could easily pass as Sasquatch in the right lighting.
“Don’t make it fuckin’ weird,” Riot grumbles.
A pretty woman approaches, beaming a smile at me. She’s tall and willowy with straight golden blonde hair and is dressed in faded black jeans and a pink baby tee, showing off her long, slender torso.
“Ignore the barbarians.” She waves the giant off and holds a hand out. “Hi. I’m Navy. Rigger’s ol’ lady.” She points to a group of men gathered around the grill. “He’s the one who looks constipated.”
