FUCK.
I watch from my post at the bar as the reason I’m here climbs up on a table in the corner and starts shaking her ass. Her skin-tight black jeans leave little to the imagination. Not that the sequined crop top barely covering her top half does much better.
She pauses to sip at the tiny straw stuck into the drink clutched in her hand and I take the opportunity to look around. See if anyone besides me is paying a little too much attention to daddy’s angel. That’s what I’ve decided to call her. In my world everyone has a tag and that’s the one that fits the black-haired slip of a woman wearing enough eyeliner to make Cleopatra blush and living up to the reputation her daddy gave her.
Wild.
Defiant.
Rebellious.
Luckily so far there was one he tossed out she doesn’t appear to be.
A pain in the ass.
She was shockingly easy to find and so far isn’t too hard to keep track of. She’s stayed inside the bar all night, not even venturing outside to the patio for a smoke or a breath of fresh air.
It’s well after midnight and I’ve been here for hours making sure she’s safe. Like I’m supposed to, as the good Knight I always have been and will do my best to continue to be.
Even if the duty isn’t as comfortable as it once was.
I swallow a mouthful of my beer and ease back in my seat. So far no one in the bar has looked at her twice, no matter how hard she works for their attention. It’s kinda sad really but it makes sense.
Nothing screams daddy issues like your old man not having any recent pictures of you. I take out my phone and pull up the only pictures of Kerri her dad had to give me and study them again. King’s daughter has to be fourteen in them. At the oldest. Blonde hair. Brown eyes. Braces.
I glance back up at the woman dancing on the table alone. Her hair is black as coal but only because of a borderline abusive relationship with Miss Clairol. An inch of lighter regrowth at the scalp gives away her natural dirty blonde color. Her eyes are dark and the diamond stud through her cheek obscures the dimple I know she has from the pictures. She might have changed her looks in the last fifteen years. Covered her skin in ink and her hair in dye. But there isn’t a doubt in my mind this is the woman I’m here for.
Kerosene Danger Wallace.
Her daddy sent me to make sure she stays safe while he cleans up a mess he made. A mess I should be helping figure out instead of sitting in a hole-in-the-wall bar in a college town trying to blend into a place I clearly don’t belong. Never did. Never will.
I catch Kerri teetering on the edge of the table out of the corner of my eye. She’s trying to step down but with a drink in one hand and her purse slung over the other it’s a little more complicated of a move than she can handle four cocktails in.
That’s how I know this girl isn’t as wild and crazy as she wants to look. Four drinks over two hours isn’t how you drown.
As she starts to teeter in her heels I slide off my seat. Before I can get any farther a chubby dude with thick glasses and a half-ass beard rushes in to save her, holding out both arms to catch daddy’s angel as she goes down in a suspiciously practiced looking tumble.
Maybe someone was watching her after all.
I size the man up as he carefully helps Kerri get her footing. She blushes and drops her eyes to peek at him through the thick black mascara-coated length of her lashes. It’s obvious she’s in no rush to get out of his embrace. Her hero’s ears turn red as Kerri wraps her tattoo-covered arms around his neck, leaning heavily against the man who saved her from the unfortunate fate of meeting a sticky, beer-soaked floor.
I sit back in my seat and polish off my beer, letting my eyes move around the room, scanning again for anyone that looks like they are planning to cause problems for me. All I see is college kids enjoying their Friday night out after a week of taking classes on mommy and daddy’s dime at the prestigious institution less than a mile away.
“Fuck me.” I shove my empty bottle to the back of the bar and stand up. I need to stretch my legs. Might even take a piss while I’m up. It’s been a long fucking night watching kids living a life I could only dream of.
If I was stupid enough to dream.
The path to the bathroom takes me right past the table where daddy’s angel and her hero are now all over each other.
That escalated quickly.
I listen carefully as I pass and have to stifle a grin. Hero’s in over his head on this one. Kerri’s voice is smooth and strong as she coos in his ear leaving the guy a stuttering mess.
Good for her. At least someone’s having a nice evening.
I make my way through the heavy crowd of academics filling the bar well beyond what the sign on the wall says is maximum occupancy. It’s nearly impossible to move without bumping into a college student in a hoodie chugging a microbrewery labeled beer. If anyone’s here to grab my club president’s daughter they’re going to have a hell of a time even getting her out of the place before I intervene.
And I will.
That’s my job now. To keep Kerri safe. No matter what it takes.
The bathroom hallway is surprisingly deserted. The noise from the crowd in the bar is a low thrum here making it seem quiet and secluded. I turn to give the doorway one last check before I reach the men’s room door. I can barely see daddy’s angel and hero still cozied up.
This job might not be as difficult as I expected it to be.
I barely get the men’s room door open before I’m hit in the back by the full force of a body against mine, shoving me into the single toilet bathroom and against a window on the opposite wall a few steps away. I barely spin in time to catch the mother fucker who just made the worst decision of his life.
But the body pressed into mine isn’t there for a fight.
“Hey.” The word passes through full cherry red lips. It’s breathy and soft, like the sweet push of the breasts against my chest. “I think you’re in the wrong place mister…” Chocolate eyes sweep over my face and down my neck dragging over the lines of the only tattoos visible with the crisp button down and jacket I wear.
My club tattoos.
“Tracker.” I hold still as her hands press into my chest, warming my skin through the thin cotton of my shirt. I think I might sit back and let her run the show. She started it and I’m happy to ride in the passenger seat with this one.
Maybe happy is the wrong word.
I’m smart enough to know women like this look at me a certain way, expecting I can give them something their pretty-boy boyfriends can’t.
And they’re right.
I know my place in this world. It’s between her legs, not in her life.
“Tracker.” She smiles as she repeats my road name.
I love the sound of it as it rolls off her tongue. I can think of a few other things I would love to have rolling off her tongue.
“That’s an interesting name.” She moves her body over mine as her hands slide up my chest and along the lapels of my jacket. “Is it biblical?”
I’m confused for a second until I see the spark of humor in her brown eyes. I give her the sexy smirk I know women love. “Funny.”
She presses against me with a surprising amount of force, the soft curve of her belly rubbing against my dick in a way that makes me groan and forget my decision to ride shotgun on this encounter. I reach around and fill my hands with her ample ass, squeezing the full cheeks as I grind my cock against her. I watch with satisfaction as her pupils dilate in the glow of the bathroom’s fluorescent light.
Her skintight red dress rides up as I palm her bottom and look her dead in the eye. “What did you come here for?”
She leans into my chest, her tits pushing up high and full, threatening to break the levy of the low-cut neckline on her dress. “For you, Tracker.”
And then she fucking puts those cherry red lips on mine, eating at my mouth like she skipped dinner. Her tongue rubs over mine. She tastes like vodka, RedBull, and bad decisions. I fucking love it.
As her mouth leaves mine she sucks my bottom lip between her teeth, holding it until it pops free. She licks her lips and I wonder what they’ll look like wrapped around my dick tonight. She smiles slowly. “And what did you come here for, Tracker?”
Fuck.
I forgot about daddy’s angel in the next room.
“Business.”
Her brows go up. “Interesting place to conduct business.”
“I’m an interesting man.” I tease her a little. Run my hand up her ribcage letting my thumb graze over the side of her breast. She’s just the kind of woman my dick gets hard for. Soft curves and full hips that can take anything I want to dish out.
“Maybe we can get to know each other a bit.” She sucks in a breath as my thumb rakes across her nipple. Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth as I tease the tight nub through the flimsy fabric of her dress.
“I’d like that.” I let her rub against me a second longer before I flip her around, switching spots, pressing her back against the large window. I pull up the hem of her dress without resistance. I want to show this woman what I can do for her. Give her a reason to leave with me tonight.
I need something good in my life right now and she’s the best-looking thing I’ve seen in a while and for some reason she’s here with me instead of one of the pretty boys filling the bar. I want to prove she made the right decision.
I look down at the thin strip of red lace covering her pussy. I drag one finger up the scrap of fabric, tracing the seam of her cunt before tucking it under the elastic waistband. When she doesn’t try to stop me I slip my hand into those hot as fuck red lace panties I can’t wait to rip off her.
She gasps as I slide my fingers along the hot folds of her pussy. She’s soaking wet and I can’t stop myself from pushing deep inside her.
Her head falls back against the window as I find her clit with my thumb and start to work it. The tiny bit of flesh swells and hardens under my touch as I continue to finger fuck her at the same time. She barely makes it thirty seconds before she’s coming on my hand, grabbing my shoulders for support.
I suck on the bit of skin tucked behind the gold earring dangling from her lobe. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Her body twists side to side as she pushes her dress back in place. “You can.” She pulls me in by the front of my shirt for one last heated kiss. “I’m going to the ladies to freshen up. I’ll meet you in the bar.”
I walk out of the bathroom after her. Red dress disappears into the next room over and the door lock clicks into place. I adjust the open collar of my button up shirt and straighten the lapels of the suit jacket I figured would do a little to soften my look. The smell of summer air drifts up from the place my hallway surprise pressed her body against mine. I breathe in the fresh scent of flowers and sunshine as I pass daddy’s angel on my way back to the bar. She and her hero are still wrapped around each other, swapping spit like no one’s watching.
As far as she knows no one is.
I tend to agree.
I slide back into my seat. The bar’s finally starting to thin out as it nears closing time, making it easier to keep an eye on the men milling around.
And watch for a tight red dress that should be headed my way any second. Hopefully daddy’s angel and her hero time their evening right and I can fuck red dress in my car outside Kerri’s apartment, wherever that may be.
Two birds. One stone.
Tonight is one of the few times my lot in life works out in my favor. Women like red dress might not want to take me home but they’re happy to let me fuck them any place else.
I check my watch. It’s been ten minutes and red dress is still in the bathroom. I give her five more before I go check on her, shaking my head at hero as I pass by. Hopefully he enjoys tonight because it’s a story he’ll be telling for years. The night a hot girl sucked his face off in a bar.
As I walk into the bathroom hallway a woman walks out from the ladies room. A woman not wearing a red dress.
I point to the door. “Anyone else in there?”
She turns to look at the door then back at me. She shakes her head. “It’s a single.”
I walk past her in disbelief and shove the heavy wood door open wide. The room’s identical to the men’s. Same single toilet. Same single window, cracked open to let out the stale air of the crowded bar.
And no gorgeous woman in a red dress that smells like springtime.
It stings more than it should. Not because of the aching balls in my pants but because it’s a harsh reminder of what I am.
And what I’m not.
Kerri and her hero are just scooting out of their seats when I walk back into the bar. My mood is souring by the second. And I was already sour when I got here. The tiny bit of a bright spot I had in the bathroom now makes everything worse in comparison. Darker.
Lonelier.
Daddy’s angel leads hero through the crowd. He scurries after her like a puppy dog. I lag behind, giving the bar one last scan for a red dress before I slip out the door unnoticed.
She’s gone. A few minutes alone in the bathroom was probably all it took for her to come to her senses. Remember she was the kind of woman who liked smart boys instead of bad men.
The night air is still warm as I walk outside to the barely lit parking lot beside the bar. I already know where Kerri’s car is parked. It’s how I knew she was here. As luck would have it I passed this bar on my way into town and what did I happen to see sitting in the lot? The very car my contact at the DMV said belongs to a Kerri D. Wallace.
Can’t say I blame her for the name change. Hell, it would be easy to believe the entire reason Kerri hates her daddy is because he fucking named her Kerosene. But I know better. I know her daddy and I would say her list of reasons to hate King is as long and varied as my own.
I stop in my tracks and stare at the spot where Kerri’s car was parked a few hours ago.
The black four-door sedan is gone.
I watch in disbelief as daddy’s angel pushes the button on a fob and unlocks a high-end sporty two-door. She slides into the driver’s seat and hero jumps into the passenger.
I spin in a circle searching for Kerri’s car. It’s gone. She’s gone.
And I’m fucked.
Because it turns out daddy’s little angel isn’t who I thought she was.
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Note: The first four books in this series have an over-arching plotline and must be read in order to fully understand what is going on in the books.
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