“You think this is funny?” he growls.
“Oh.” I giggle. “It’s funny.”
“There’s shit all over my bedroom.”
My giggling gets more intense.
“And all over the woman I just had my dick inside.”
I lose it, hysterically laughing, to the point where tears are streaming down my face.
“Now you’re goin’ to clean it up.”
I wave a hand, trying to gather myself enough to speak.
“No,” I breathe between giggles. “I’m not.”
He takes hold of my arm, jerking me out of the room, still in hysterics. He drags me down the hall and we stop in his doorway. He points to the mess and hisses, “Clean it, now.”
“I said,” I pant, “no.”
He spins me around and suddenly I’m pinned against the wall. He leans down close and my giggling stops. I stare up at him, realizing that every inch of him is pressed against me, and he’s only wearing a pair of unbuttoned jeans. Images of his mighty fine ass flash through my mind and I lick my lips.
“You interrupted my fuck. I don’t sleep without it, and now I’m goin’ to have a long night. You gonna take her place? You gonna be the one in my bed every night? ‘Cause if you ain’t and I see you behave like that again, I’ll pick you up myself and throw you out the fuckin’ door.”
Oh, I’d love to be in his bed every night.
Yum.
His brown eyes flash and scan over my face before meeting my eyes again. “Well?”
“Well, what?” I breathe.
“Woman, if you keep lickin’ your lips and lookin’ at me like that, I might just take what I need . . . like it or not. Is that what you want?”
“Maybe.”
Shit. Did I just say that out loud?
I did, because his eyes turn to milk chocolate and his face softens in a way I haven’t seen it do since I’ve been here. Oh, boy. Would Mack take me to his bed, every night? I swallow. Oh, oh, oh, boy.
“Be careful what you wish for, Lah,” he murmurs.
My knees quiver.
“About the poop,” I squeak, changing the subject. “I’ll clean it.”
I duck out from his grip and rush into his room.
That didn’t go how I wanted . . . No.
It went better.
~*~*~*~*
“I don’t know about this,” I say, staring at the massive cabin surrounded by large sheds.
Santana laughs. “They won’t bite in here, I swear.”
“It’s a biker club.”
She hooks an arm through mine. “Come on, I promise I won’t leave you.”
“I’ve heard about your escapades.” I wiggle my finger at her. “I know you and Maddox like to get dirt-ay in the sheds, the office, the—”
“I get it!” She giggles, cutting me off. “But I swear, today I’ll behave.”
“Ladies.”
We both turn to see Ash coming in with a gorgeous, but very tiny blonde by her side.
“That’s my little sister,” Santana says proudly. “Pippa.”
I’ve heard the story of Pippa and Santana. Ash told me last night when she came by to give me some extra formula they had at her house for Diesel. Apparently Santana had left it there, and we were way out.
“Pippi,” she croons when her sister stops.
I watch them hug and I take in the tiny, blonde girl. She’s super small and extremely fragile looking, but she looks sweet as hell. She smiles and pulls back, staring at Santana like she’s God. I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face. I adjust a sleeping Diesel in my arms and extend my hand. “You must be Pippa. I’m Jaylah.”
The tiny girl turns and flashes me a killer smile. “I’ve heard about you,” she says in a soft voice. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“I’ve heard about you, too.” I beam.
“How’s my little monkey?” Ash croons, leaning in and kissing Diesel’s head.
“He kept me awake all night,” I say, and at the very thought of it, I begin to yawn.
“We heard about your little poop-throwing contest.” Ash grins at me.
I start giggling, unable to stop it. “God, you should have seen that girl’s face. There was poop in her hair!”
“I can’t believe you had the guts to do that to Mack,” she says, laughing.
“Mack is a big softie,” Santana says, waving a hand.
I give her a horrified look. “Softie? You’re joking, right?”
She laughs and shakes her head. “Yeah, maybe softie isn’t the right word, but he’s not as bad as he seems.”
Ash and I stare at her.
“He’s not!” she protests. “I swear. When things were bad with Maddox, he would crawl into my bed and just hold me. Mack is loyal to those he loves, he just has to learn how to love them . . .”
A pang radiates through my chest. I didn’t realize Santana and Mack had such a strong bond. Hell, I didn’t even know it would bother me that they had a strong bond. I guess it’s because all I get from Mack is constant grunting or nothing at all. Sometimes he doesn’t even answer my questions.
“Well,” I say, my voice small, “you’re lucky because trust me, living with him isn’t easy.”
“Are things okay?” she asks, her eyes concerned.
“Sure, he’s just a hard one to crack.”