I feel comfortable around the hardened biker, but I do. I eagerly take his offered palm—his skin is rough with callouses. He easily tugs me closer…not that I mind. He has a charm about him that I’m sure is only directed toward women; otherwise, he’s the epitome of his club name. Royal Bastard fits him handsomely, and I’m sure others before me agree. I have no doubt in my mind that if I were male, our previous interaction would’ve gone completely different, and I wouldn’t be here now.
“Are we going for another walk?” I question, not sure how much alone time I can handle with him. His cocky attitude is appealing for some reason. I’d always been irked by people who act like he does, yet here I am, a fly caught in his trap. He’s like opening a new book. I’m intrigued and want to gorge myself.
His lips tilt into a grin. He does that a lot, I remember from the last time. “Depends…you gonna let me have that pussy yet?”
I see he’s back to his amiable smug self. I thought we’d gotten past that last week when we’d spoken for a few hours. He’d seemed more down-to-earth and less showy. Maybe it was the late night that’d calmed him down, and this is his usual self? I’d never dreamed of allowing anyone to speak to me this way, and he’s no exception. I’d always imagined I’d slap a man if those words came out of his mouth, but these men aren’t the type you slap and live to tell about it. I won’t lie to myself and try to pretend that his attention doesn’t fluster me either. I’m used to everyone minding their words around my family and me, and his crassness is bold and a bit refreshing.
Richardson wasn’t quiet about it when we left last time either. He was fuming the entire car ride back. I could hear him plain as day screaming at his team on the other side of my hotel wall when we were supposedly all going to bed. He was incensed and insanely offended that Ripper took any kind of liberties with me. As far as I’m concerned, I have to deal with some discomfort if I’m going to find my sister. It’s not like I’ve enjoyed visiting the dozens of strip clubs in search of her in the past or the men’s leering looks that come along with it. Ripper making comments and touching me wasn’t nearly as bad as Richardson had made it out to be. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate at least a little of the attention from such a good-looking man. Ripper is powerful, like my own father, only in a different respect, and I can deny it all I want to, but it’s alluring.
“I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you,” I remark dryly, and he chuckles, amused with my banter. I walk beside him as he leads me through the club. My detail attempts to follow, but they’re met with a wall of muscled bikers. It’s no wonder Ripper acts as if he’s untouchable; around his brothers, he is.
“Alice,” Richardson calls, and I can hear the uneasiness coating his voice. He was completely against me returning to the biker compound. It’s part of the reason it took me so long to make it back. I had to reassure my father multiple times that I wasn’t in any danger around the Royal Bastard’s president. He wasn’t easily convinced, but me finding Madison was higher on his list than a potential safety threat. I’d like to believe it was for Madison’s welfare, but I’m not that na?ve. I’m well aware it’s my father’s campaign outcome that’s been weighing heavily on his mind.
“I’m okay,” I assure Richardson and attempt to steal away Ripper’s stern gaze he has pinned on my bodyguard. “Right?” I ask the man in question, squeezing the burly biker’s hand where it’s warming mine.
His hazel orbs meet mine, the anger fading away as he takes me in. He replaces it with a softer glance, one that promises me I’m safe with him. He looked at me the same way the night I was with him. “I won’t hurt you…you have my word.”
“See?” I send a pointed look at my guard. I catch him rolling his eyes, stewing at being told to calm down. “And no one else will hurt me while I’m with you, either, right?”