Hacking the Biker's Code (Dogs of Fire Savannah Chapter #6) - Piper Davenport Page 0,20
and I can’t wait to peel you out of that jumpsuit when I take you home.”
I rolled my eyes. “You think I’m sexy as hell when I’m in my bathrobe and slippers.”
“Yeah, well, you are.”
I shook my head. He’d never understand, so it would just piss him off if I argued with him.
“You freakin’ out yet?” Jasmine asked as she and Willow made their way to us.
“Why didn’t you tell me Sloan DeMille was going to be here?” I hissed.
“Because we knew you’d freak the fuck out,” Jasmine said.
Willow smiled. “I grabbed your makeup bag, so Jasmine can do her thing.”
I took the bag from her. “Thank god for small favors.”
“Hey, I’m a huge fuckin’ favor,” Jasmine retorted, leading me to a bench and throwing a jacket over me to protect my white jumpsuit.
Jasmine started refreshing my makeup just as Quin walked over with Sloan. “Parker, Sloan, Sloan, Parker.”
“Oh my god, you’re gorgeous,” Sloan said. “Have you ever done any modeling?”
“Ah…” I blushed beet red and let out a nervous chuckle, trying to lower my head, but Jasmine tapped my chin and I kept it up.
Sloan gave me a nod. “I’m going to take a few candids if that’s okay with you and once you’re ready, we’ll do some more focused shots.”
I swallowed convulsively, letting out a garbled squeak, unable to form words.
She smiled and walked toward the men, as I swatted Jasmine’s hand away. “Oh my god, I was just rude to Sloan DeMille. What the hell is wrong with me?”
“Honey, you weren’t rude,” Quin crooned. “Sloan gets it. I promise.”
Willow hunkered down in front of me. “Don’t panic, Parker. We’ve got you. You’re stunningly beautiful and your pictures are going to rock your world.”
“But…she’s…Sloan DeMille,” I whispered.
“And you’re Parker McCormick. Or you will be in about ten minutes.”
I gasped quietly, then smiled. “I will be, huh?”
Willow squeezed my hand. “Focus on that, honey.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. “Thanks, Will.”
“May I continue?” Jasmine asked, and I nodded.
Ten minutes later, she declared she’d done all she could, handing me a mirror.
“Oh my god, you’re an artist,” I breathed out.
“Honey, I’m only as good as my canvas.”
I hugged her. “I love you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Let’s get you married,” Willow said, linking her arm with mine, and we headed back toward my future.
Rabbit
TUESDAY MORNING, I dropped my wife at her shop, then headed to the club. Jesus. My wife. I couldn’t love that fact more. I hated I couldn’t keep her in bed, but she had responsibilities, including a lunch with some friend from a local shop, so we wouldn’t see much of each other even if I’d gone to work with her. Besides, Doc had called an all-hands to talk about next steps with whoever this Beast asshole was.
Walking into the great room, I felt a beefy hand grasp the back of my neck and shove me into the kitchen.
“Jesus, Alamo, what the fuck?” I snapped, trying to pull away.
He just squeezed harder. “You ever let my woman’s name cross your lips with the likes of Sugar Bear again, I’ll personally remove all your Dogs ink and I won’t go easy.”
I sighed. “I hear you.”
Probably not my finest moment, even if it was to prove a point. I’d be pissed too.
He slapped the back of my head and I forced myself not to wince. “There’s no way they’re goin’ to the Bike Rack.”
“Exactly what I said,” I pointed out.
“However, your comparison was not appreciated.”
I rubbed the back of my skull. “Pickin’ up on that.”
Alamo crossed his arms. “I told Jasmine she’d have to settle for Blurr.”
Blurr was a club that had opened a couple of months ago. It was high-class, exclusive, and hard to get into. Unless you knew Doom, who assisted with the fire inspection and now had several favors owed for his assistance in getting the permits passed.
“I can live with that,” I said. “Provided we have a couple recruits on them.”
“Doom and I already got that handled.”
“Figured.”
He gave me a chin lift. “Need an icepack?”
“Fuck you.”
Alamo laughed. “Glad we got that sorted.”
“Well, shit,” Jasmine breathed out as she walked into the kitchen.
Alamo raised an eyebrow. “What are you doin’ here, Firefly?”
“I was hoping I’d beat you here, so that Rabbit kept his head.” She gave me the once over. “You look okay.”
“I don’t leave marks,” Alamo retorted.
She scowled at her man, then turned concerned eyes to me. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to say anything about the fucking Sugar Bear thing. Swear to god, Mo