The Reign Of Kings - Candice Wright Page 0,59

calm down. You’ve known these guys for two days and you’re already thinking about babies? I must be having a mental breakdown brought on by stress and giant penises.

“Where’d you go?” Saint asks, nudging me.

“Huh?”

“You were miles away, what were you thinking about?”

“Erm...” Lie, Reign. Say something, anything, but don’t mention babies.

“Giant cocks,” I blurt out, then close my eyes in defeat.

Brilliant, Reign. Well fucking done, you dirty little whore.

I open my eyes and see everyone watching me with varying degrees of lust on their faces.

“What will it take for you all to forget that this whole little conversation just happened?”

“What conversation?” Kermit asks, walking over.

“The one where Reign is thinking about giant cocks,” Bates answers. Right, he has zero filter. Just fucking perfect.

“Hey, boss, how’s it going?” I smile at the man who looks like he wants to bail.

“Boss?” Bates questions, making me wince. Oops, I guess Kermit didn’t say anything to him when they were talking earlier.

“Oh yeah, Kermit has kindly agreed to let me work in the garage,” I reply.

He looks at Kermit then to me.

“And you want to work there?” he asks me.

“Yeah, Bates, I really do,” I answer softly.

“Okay then, but Kermit, if she so much as breaks a nail, I’ll break your fucking arm,” he states casually before snagging my beer from my hand and necking the remainder of it.

“Well, that went better than expected,” Saint mumbles in my ear, his breath against my skin making me shiver.

“Probably because he didn’t see me break that guy’s wrist earlier,” I joke. Of course, that’s the exact fucking moment the music cuts off.

“What?” Bates roars.

I stand quickly and make my way over to him, pushing him down when he tries to stand, and straddle his lap, putting my hands on either side of his face.

“A customer was being a dick, so I tapped his wrist with a wrench and made him cry like a big ole baby. He never touched a single hair on my head, I swear.”

Bates looks at me intently, the anger swirling like a vortex in his crystal blue eyes.

“I have five brothers, Bates. I know how to look after myself, trust me,” I murmur before dipping my head and brushing a soft kiss against his lips. Eventually, he relaxes, the tension seeping out of his body as he pulls me closer, deepening the kiss. I let him take control, sensing he needs this, and it’s not exactly a hardship to be loved on a little by a smoking hot biker.

Finally, when he’s calm enough, I pull away and rest my forehead against his. “Okay?” I prompt him quietly.

“Okay,” he grunts.

“Holy fuck, she’s the Bates whisperer.”

I turn in Bates’s lap at the sound of Erza’s voice but don’t move off him, knowing somehow he needs me close by for a minute.

“What’s that now?” I ask.

Priest is the one to answer. “Bates has a temper. He didn’t get his name by accident; nothing calms him down until his anger burns out. At least until you,” he says, tipping his drink at me.

I look up at Bates, who doesn’t say anything. “Anytime you need to burn off some anger, princess, I’m all yours.”

And there it is, the twitch of his lips. It’s small but it’s there so I know nobody is in danger of losing their lives tonight.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Bates

“Is she seriously asleep?” Saint laughs.

I look down with amusement at Reign in my lap as she snuggles farther into my neck, her breath deep and even, and feel something flutter in my chest. Hopefully, it’s indigestion—I’m a biker, for fuck’s sake.

“Apparently so,” I mumble, not bothered about disturbing her. I’m pretty sure if she can sleep through the ruckus of a Carnage party, she can sleep through anything. “I’m going to take her up,” I tell him, looking around for Priest, who disappeared with Cassius a while ago. “You coming?” I nod toward the door.

He drains his beer and stands to follow as I carry Reign’s slight form up the stairs to her room. I wait for Saint to unlock the door and walk inside, lowering her gently to the bed before stepping back.

Saint slips off his cut and hangs it on the back of the chair by the window before walking over to stand beside me as we both stare down at her. “She’s oddly trusting given everything that’s going on,” he says, sounding bemused.

“Stranger still, the trust only seems to go as far as the three of us, and maybe Kermit. She spent most

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