The more I got to know him, the more I liked him. Which was why I really hoped that whoever had made the threat last night did not choose to try to make good on said threat and get this kid—well, badass biker man to most people but when compared with the other Sons, somewhat of a kid—killed or maimed.
As it was, I got my wish.
The day passed without incident, and I got ready for work while Anderson was playing with Sirius or ‘walking the perimeter’ or eating the banana muffins I’d made earlier.
I waited for some kind of comment about my job from him. Even the best of guys had something to say, an eyebrow raise or something glazing over their eyes when they figured out I was a woman they didn’t have to work to get her clothes off of. Not when it was what the woman in question did for a living. Somehow, figuring out a woman was a stripper, brought out the inner sleazebag in almost every man.
So I waited. For some kind of gaze up and down the outfit I was wearing to work—a skintight, white, high necked, sleeveless dress that molded to my every curve and would have shown the label on whatever underwear I was wearing if I hadn’t found a very special, barely there pair. I was not a woman who went sans panties. I actually had no idea how women did that. To each their own, of course, but even if I had been that kind of woman, I wouldn’t have been able to go without panties unless I wanted everyone to know my waxing preferences. And unlike a lot of women in my profession, I did still have some hair ... down there.
Anderson did look at me when I emerged from my bedroom at nine that night. His eyes trailed up my snakeskin stiletto boots to the sliver of skin between the boots and the hem of my dress. Then up my body, to my face where they stopped. There was no inner sleazebag though, not even a drop.
Sure, there was a definite kind of male appreciation, but it was detached, and it disappeared from his face in just a handful of seconds. This was a decent man who was most definitely committed to his pregnant girlfriend.
I liked that for her. And for him.
“Ready to rock and roll?” he asked.
I tilted my head. “It’s nine and you’ve been here since I woke up which means you’ve been my bodyguard for the past twelve hours. Now you’re going to a strip club with me where I don’t get off until at least one usually two. If not three. And you have a pregnant girlfriend at home. I really don’t think you need to come with me.”
Even though I’d had an armed, unfamiliar man following me around all day, routinely ‘checking the perimeter of my house’, I’d all but forgotten I’d had a gun held to my head yesterday. Yesterday.
The power of the alpha male biker.
In the daylight, after a night’s sleep, I wasn’t afraid of whoever it was that was possibly coming after me. The man with the gun had wanted me to deliver a message. I’d done so. The Sons obviously weren’t planning on listening to the message, which meant I was in danger. Maybe. I didn’t ask much about it.
I wasn’t sure whether that was stupid or naïve of me. Or maybe it was stupid or naïve of me to think a bunch of bikers—albeit sexy, brooding bikers with perfect cheekbones—were going to keep me safe. It was definitely stupid to trust them with my life. But that’s what I was doing, wasn’t it?
Anderson’s boyish face turned hard. “I do need to go with you,” he countered, his voice suddenly two octaves deeper and a heck of a lot more dangerous. “I’m willing to do anything for the club, to make sure no one hurts it or you. Everything about him told me he was resolute. Devoted. Blindly dedicated to his club. Or cult, since it seemed to have followers willing to do anything and everything without question.
That should’ve worried me, scared me, made me more cautious. But instead, it intrigued me. Parts of me felt inexplicably jealous of them. It was a family. One that was willing to fight and die for one another.
“Besides,” Anderson continued. “I’m only following you to Fate. Hades is takin’ over once we get there.”
My heart stopped.
“Hades is meeting us at Fate?” I repeated.
He nodded once.
“He’s going to be there, at the club, the whole night?” I clarified.
Anderson nodded again, but this time, I swear I saw a hint of a smirk. “The whole night,” he confirmed.
Fuck.
“Baby, are you okay?” Marilyn asked, looking at me in the mirror. We were sitting side by side, touching up our makeup before we went on stage.