Page 35 of Rider Daddies
His gray brows scrunch together, deep, fine lines making another appearance.
“That’s my birth control implant,” I say after enduring more squishing.
Not like I ever really fucking needed it with Tristan.
“Oh…” Ash continues his search up to my shoulder, even making it as far as my armpit. His hand is veering to dangerous territory…
“Alright!” Ryder jerks his hand away before he can make it to my breast. “Check every fucking inch of her, why don’t you?”
“What? She might have one in her breast.”
“An implant?” I question.
“No,” he growls, agitated. “A tracker.”
I frown. “You think Tristan installed a tracker into me?”
“Your phone has been dead,” Ash states. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Cash is our tech guy. He can back us up.”
I extend my vision over to the man in the corner. He looks up from his screen to wave me a hello.
I narrow my eyes. How does one get into the Venom Vultures club? Must they have a set number of tattoos? Prominent bone structures?
Be above the age of forty?
“Fuck.” Ash slams his palm down on the table, almost spilling my coffee. “If he didn’t install a tracker, then what?”
“It must be coincidental,” Saint says.
“I don’t believe in coincidences.” Ash huffs out a sigh and then turns to me. “Lucia, what do you think?”
How in the world am I supposed to know? If he was keeping a Tinder profile hidden from me, who the fuck knows what else he kept up those gold cuff-linked sleeves?
“No idea,” I deadpan.
“Well, did he ever scratch you? Did you ever wake up with pain somewhere?”
“Why do you care?” I hitch my eyebrow. “Hm? Answer me that.”
“The club could be threatened,” Ryder answers for him. “This could be bad.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Saint says. “You had a knife to his throat not ten hours ago. He’s a lawyer who caught us tying his ex-girlfriend up to a table. He already has enough ammunition to file against us as it is. If BDSM cult isn’t enough for the court,us threatening him with a knife certainly will be.” Saint selects a cigarette from his pack and clamps it between his lips, lighting it up. “We’re screwed if he runs his mouth.”
“Then, we know what to do if he does…” Ryder says.
Salami sandwich?
Tristan doesn’t even fucking eat sandwiches, always “watching what he eats.”
I’ve struck gold with the perfect rebound and now there’s a chance it could all be taken from me. Can’t God just do me this one favor and help me get laid? Please?
Also, I’ve been so tied up with fantasizing about what position I want them to take me in, that I haven’t actually thought about what happens to me after the Venom Vultures.
My car is still sitting there outside, waiting to be refueled. Where do I go? To Sin City for some more fun? Back to California to pick up the pieces?
I’m kinda enjoying being in this middle place. Ever since I arrived here, I’ve pressed pause on life. It’s only now dawning on me that at some point, I’m gonna have to get back to reality.
“We should inform the sergeants to keep a watch out for him,” Ash says. “I don’t want any funny business happening.”
