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Conor is too sexy to be this silly, and he’s far too silly and sexy to be scary. Yet, somehow, he’s supposed to take over the Executioners Motorcycle Club. I don’t get it. Earlier, I felt how dangerous he was, but I’ve fallen harder since then.
After we crash our bumper cars together—and occasionally race—Conor wants to use up the rest of his tokens. Unfortunately, the big spender bought more than we’ll ever need. Rather than toss the tokens, he offers them to a mom struggling with her kids in the parking lot. The horny look she gives him nearly inspires me to sucker punch the twat. He’s mine!
“She wanted to make her sixth kid with me,” Conor murmurs after we leave the woman with her free tokens and stand at his Harley. His lips nibble at my ear. “She senses my balls are filled with fertile prowess.”
“Are you trying to make me horny?” I whisper as my lips brush against his. “Because this kind of sweet-talk isn’t doing it.”
Conor chuckles. “The key to successful flirting is to throw everything at the wall and hope something sticks.”
Kissing me, Conor gives my ass a light squeeze. My hands are more interested in exploring his chest. We fondle each other for a few minutes while the world ignores our horniness.
My vibrating phone is easy to ignore. Then, Conor’s starts ringing, too. I prefer to focus on his tongue rather than bad news. Still kissing me, he lifts his phone beside my head enough for him to glance at the text. Our fun ends when he pries his lips free, complete with a popping sound.
“Better check your phone,” he says despite hiding his face in my hair and feeling up my butt. “Our attention is in high demand.”
Looking at the message from Topanga, I frown at the wording. “I knew Lowell made handsome fellas, but he makes beautiful belles, too!”
My heart drops into my stomach. What the fuck is she saying? I show Conor the text. He leans over and kisses me softly.
“I knew you weren’t my sister. Now, let’s suck face more before we head back to Elko.”
I think to give him shit for blowing off something important, but I catch him smirking before his lips suck at my throat. Besides, what else could he say?
To prove how the right words are difficult to find, I text Topanga back with, “Thanks.” Then, I add a heart emoticon, thinking maybe that’ll make the word seem more meaningful.
Pulling up my mom’s picture on my phone, I admire her smiling face. I miss her so much, but she feels closer now. Needy Hobbs wasn’t wrong, and she didn’t lie. I am Lowell Sinema’s daughter!
My smile disappears, and I wiggle free of Conor. “Lowell must be pissed.”
“He’ll get over it.”
I glance at the nearby highway and remember how it felt to hold on to Conor and let him take charge.
“Maybe we should run off, just you and me,” I blurt out, afraid to return to Elko. “We’ll jump on the highway and keep going.”
Conor gives me a weird frown before shrugging. “I need my retainer.”
Frowning, I take a moment to realize he’s fucking with me. “I’m afraid of rejection.”
“Everyone is.”
“But I don’t think I can handle Lowell rejecting me.”
“Except he already did, and you felt bad. That just happened.”
“I know,” I mumble, feeling stupid and embarrassed again.
“Then, why would we run away?” Conor asks and cups my cheek. “I’m fine with us leaving Elko if that’s what you want, but there’s no reason to escape as if we’ve done something wrong.”
“Lowell doesn’t want me to be his daughter.”
“No, he doesn’t want a daughter, period. That’s not the same thing. He doesn’t know you enough for the problem to be about you.”
Recalling how he looked at me in Rooster’s side room, I feel myself wanting to avoid the problem.
“Topanga asked us to come to their house for dinner,” Conor says after checking his phone.
“But we’re supposed to eat a Bambi’s Bar & Grill and leave a big tip for Amity.”
Conor smiles at my whiny tone. “Then, we’ll stop by and get the food like we planned before going to Lowell’s house.”
“Or we can wait until tomorrow. I think if I had more time with you, I’d be stronger.”
“Monroe, I sense what you’re trying to do, but you can’t pull off the emotionally fragile persona.”
Rolling my eyes, I mumble, “I’m emotional.”
“Not really. You think about crying, but you never do. It’s not your nature. Running away from Elko is dumb, anyway. You have friends there and a place to live. Your car is there, and now your dad. Don’t let him weasel out of what you’re owed just because he can’t live up to your childlike fantasies.”
“You keep saying what I’m owed, but I don’t want anything.”
Conor cups my face with both hands and forces my gaze to hold his. “That’s not true. You want him to give you a safe place to live. You want to be financially secure. You want things with Clive dealt with. Even if Lowell doesn’t throw around the ball or take you to a daddy-daughter dance, he needs to give you the things he would give Dunning.”
“Not really. I’m an adult. He doesn’t owe me anything.”
“Maybe not in the world’s eyes, but things work differently in the Woodlands. He has a daughter that everyone knows about, so he must make things square with that daughter to appease the community’s expectations.”
“But what about your sister? You said she was a dirty little secret.”
“Yeah, but she has a safe life in her town under the protection of another club. If Aja were alone in the world and needing help, the Executioners would offer her a hand. Not because they care about her. But because she has my father’s blood running through her veins, and he helped found the club.”
When I just frown at him, Conor slides the helmet over my head. “I told you earlier how these men came from nothing and created something powerful. Think of them like royalty. Even though my father’s dead, his kids deserve the club’s protection. Your father isn’t dead, and the woman he knocked up was part of their community. You got screwed out of what you were owed. Now, let’s get back to Elko and start claiming your shit.”
Grinning at his wink, I fall silent and let him take charge. Conor knows the rules, and he’s effortlessly confident. If he wants to run things, I’m happy to play his sidekick.
