Page 54 of What He Wants

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Page 54 of What He Wants

“You’re insatiable.”

She scraped my scalp with her nails, holding me against her swollen flesh. “When it comes to you, guilty.”

Jesus, my dick was getting hard again, but I wasn’t going to fuck Daisy again out there in the cold. My hands crept up to the side of her face, cupping her cheeks. She met me halfway for a brief, hard kiss.

“I think it’s time we−”

If there was one thing I knew, it was the sound of a bullet breaking glass and flying past too fucking closely. Someone had taken a shot at us, breaking the passenger side window. Thanks to the fogged-up windows, I was only able to make out the blurry image of a black vehicle moving past the house at a crawl. I had a split second to push Daisy down onto the floorboard for cover before another shot sounded out, and then the vehicle was spinning off.

“Big John!” she screamed, covering her head as more glass shattered around us.

Her discarded clothes were on the seat next to me and I reached for them, tossing them down at her. “Stay down!” I ordered, reaching for the gun at my back before realizing that the police had confiscated it. In the next instant I reached over her head and opened the glove box, reaching for my backup. I cocked it, crouching low and half over Daisy. We were sitting ducks. If Daisy hadn’t been there I would have taken off after the vehicle. Soon it was down the road and disappearing out of sight.

“Fuck it,” I snarled, reaching for my phone. “Fuck!” I hit my VP’s number.

“What is it, bro?” Rock asked at the other end.

“Daisy and I were just shot at, outside her house. Black vehicle heading your way. I think it might be a caddy.”

“On it!”

We disconnected. I glanced down to see my woman trying to dress while still crouched on the floor. She was shaking like a leaf. Her panicked gaze was on the gun in my hand, and tears were building in her eyes. There was glass in her hair and on the floor around her from where the passenger window had been shot out. Jesus, had the shooter been after her?

“Babe−”

“I’m okay,” she said. “Just scared.” A shaky smile spread across her lips, which was still wet and swollen from my kiss. “And cold.”

“You can come up now.” She took the hand I offered.

“Did you see anything?”

“A black vehicle riding away,” I explained, picking glass out of her hair. “I think it was the same fucking Cadillac I saw around here the other day.” I pulled the condom off my dick and tied it off, stuffing it in my pocket until I got to a bathroom. Then I did up my pants.

Several thoughts hit me at once as I pulled myself together--Charlie’s odd comment earlier about Daisy’s ex, and the things Daisy had told me about him. My gut told me that we might be dealing with the fucking asshole. Only why now? They’d been divorced for a year. I intended to find out, after I got her inside where it was safe. Hopefully my brothers would catch up to him down the road, unless he turned off on one of the many side roads between here and there and disappeared.

Once she was dressed I opened my door and got out. “Come this way, babe, there’s less glass.” I held my hand out to her. It did something to me when she placed her small hand trustingly into mine. I pulled her from the truck into my arms, holding her against me for a minute before letting her down. “We’ll find out who did this.”

“Do you think it was someone with a grudge against your club?”

I held her gaze for a minute. “Good question. Let’s get inside where it’s warm, okay?” She unlocked the door, we went in, and when she turned to lock the door behind us, I stopped her. “I expect a couple of my brothers to show up,” I said by way of explanation. I nudged her in the direction of upstairs.

“Are we going to call the police?” she asked, bending to remove her boots.

My gaze fell to her shapely ass. “You know the answer to that.”

She stood and turned back to me. “So, Phantom Riders never call the cops?”

“Not as long as it’s something we can handle. Which is most of the time.” I reached up to remove another fragment of glass from her hair, frowning when I saw a small nick on her cheek. “Maybe you’d better take those clothes off and shake out your hair to get rid of the glass.” I held up the piece I’d removed.

It was as if seeing the glass made her understand fully what we’d just gone through, making it all too real. I saw the fear in her eyes right before she fell apart. As she crumbled, I wrapped my arms around her, mindful of any glass, and carried her to the bedroom. I sat on the edge of her bed and she automatically curled up on my lap, burying her face against my chest. I let her weep, realizing that she needed to release the emotions she was feeling in response to being shot at, that anyone would. She needed to get it out, and I was sure that her brave front earlier had been at a price.

She wept quietly, only releasing an occasional sob. I stroked her hair, giving her time, not sure what else to do. I was at a loss, uncomfortable with offering comfort. But her fear tore my heart out, and I knew that I would hold her for as long as she needed me to. It turned out that it wasn’t all that long. After a few minutes, her shaking calmed, the crying ceased, and her tears dried up. She sniffed a few times before pulling back and looking up at me. Her eyes were bright and swollen, her nose red, her cheeks blotchy, and I’d never seen anyone so beautiful.

“I think I got snot on your shirt,” she admitted in a weak voice.

I couldn’t stop the full-bodied laughter from shaking through me. “Baby, after all the body fluids we’ve exchanged, a little snot is nothing.” That reminded me about the condom in my pocket.

She turned instantly red. “You’re terrible, Big John.” A small smile belied her remark, and I could see that she felt better for getting it out.




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