Page 33 of Rider Daddies
And the only reason I stayed with him and said yes, both to the girlfriend question and the proposal, was because of these three things: He dressed well, he was socially accepted, and he had a way with words.
Let’s be honest. He never set my pussy on fire.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing.
“Get out of here, Tristan!” I shout. “Don’t come back.”
He looks back at me. “This place isn’t safe.”
“It’s not your place to safeguard me anymore.”
“Listen to your ex,” hisses Ryder. He opens the front door and shoves Tristan out of it, his wretched, athletic build falling outside into the night. “Remember what I told you,” Ryder continues. He makes a point of licking his lips. “Salami.”
The door thuds shut.
I think I need a second to sit down.
I pull out a chair and collapse into it.
Saint comes to my aid. “That was intense. Are you okay?”
“Your ex-boyfriend looks like a rat, by the way,” Ash says. “The only thing missing is the tail.”
“Yeah,” chuckles Saint. “He already does the squealing.”
The pair of them fall into roaring laughter.
The rest of the bikers retreat back to their bedrooms, the brothers and I left alone.
The silence is long. A little bit painful. The moment has gone, which is a shame. My pussy has been craving biker dick ever since I stepped foot in here last night.
“Why did you lie about your name?” Ryder asks.
I expected them to be more pissed, but they actually appear more disappointed. I flick my eyes between each of them, regarding their expressions. It’s late. Everybody is both emotionally and physically exhausted. I forgot how much being horny takes it out of you.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Lucia,” Saint says, popping into a seat next to me. “We just had a talking rat enter the Venom Vultures clubhouse. Try us.”
Ugh. Let’s do this quickly.
“Fine,” I huff. “I’m a lawyer.”
“You’re a—?” Ash cuts himself off, eyes shooting to the knife in his brother’s hand. “What kind of lawyer?”
“Unimportant, since I no longer work at the firm. You should probably know that Tristan is a lawyer too. A practicing one who still has his job, bearing in mind that he was the one who recruited me.”
“He fired you?” Saint says, aghast.
“I technically fired myself. I couldn’t stand the idea of sharing a state with him, let alone being in the same office.”
“We’re sorry that happened to you,” Ash says.
I look up, unsure what to make of the apology. I want to think that they’re apologizing as a way to get back into my panties, but their faces look sincere, and when I take a glance at their groins, I don’t see any growing activity.
I scoff. “Why are you apologizing?”
It’s a simple question, but it seems to have stumped them.
