Tame: A High School Bully Romance (Savannah Heirs Book 2)

by Coralee June

  Godfrey shrugged. “Whatever makes you feel better.”

  “Oh my God,” I groaned at their male posturing.

  Godfrey looked over his shoulder at me with a wicked grin. “Not in front of your father, princess,” he chastised playfully.

  If my face wasn’t pink from embarrassment before, it was beet red now. “Godfrey!” I snapped.

  But he just turned back to look at my dad. “Look, I get it. I’m not good enough for your girl. I’m not denying that. But I do understand her, and she understands me. So you can bitch at me, and you can threaten all you want, but it makes no difference. So long as she wants me around, I’m not going anywhere,” he said steadily, making my heart fist in my chest. “So shoot your yard up, beat the shit out of me, scream and yell until the neighbors call the cops, do whatever you need to do, Rocco. But that girl over there? She’s got my fucking heart, and I’m not gonna walk away.”

  My eyes filled with emotion from hearing words I never thought would come from his mouth. Somehow, Godfrey was more vulnerable saying all of that to my father than he was standing naked in the yard with his dick in his hands.

  Dad’s knuckles were white from how hard he squeezed his gun. He was teetering somewhere between wanting to shoot Godfrey or slap him on the back. Finally, he sighed and lowered the gun. “Get your pasty ass inside and put on some damn clothes. Apparently we have a lot to talk about. It’s time we took care of this problem once and for all.”

  “About fucking time,” Godfrey shot back.

  Dad looked over at me, cringing when he saw Godfrey’s oversized shirt hanging past mid-thigh and my short hair a mess. I hadn’t looked in the mirror yet, but I could tell by Dad’s look of disgust that his baby girl looked thoroughly fucked.

  Godfrey turned and walked up the steps to the porch and nodded at my dad before slipping past me, making sure to wink playfully as he went. I went to follow after him, but Dad grabbed my arm, keeping me firmly in place. “I thought we had a sock on the door rule!” he hissed. “Here I was, coming home to check on my daughter and bring her breakfast in bed, and I’m greeted with”—Dad shuddered while trying to compose himself—“that!”

  I laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “Next time, I’ll put a sock on the door.”

  “There will be no next time under my roof, Rachel Nomar!” he yelled as I walked back inside.

  Godfrey slipped in the bedroom we’d slept in and came back out a minute later wearing some sweatpants and a plain white tee that had been left on the dresser. I could feel Dad’s eyes on me as I watched Godfrey come back downstairs. “You really like him?” Dad asked quietly.

  I turned my attention back to the gun wielding lunatic that was my father. “I love him. I love that he makes me feel...normal. When we’re together, I don’t think about all the shitty things that happened to me. It’s like I can finally breathe again.”

  It was so freeing to admit. Godfrey really did make me feel beautiful and normal. He didn’t hold back. He...made it okay to feel. He helped me move on from all the fucked up shit that had happened to me.

  Dad gave a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. I guess I won’t kill him then.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Godfrey

  This was the most fucking awkward breakfast of my life. Not only did I have an uncomfortable hard-on from seeing Rachel in nothing but my shirt, but being interrogated by Rocco Nomar was grating on my nerves. Any other girl, and I wouldn’t have put in the effort, but Rachel was different. I actually kind of wanted her father to like me, mostly because it would make Rachel happy. But that didn’t mean I had to take the easy road to getting his blessing. I never much liked doing things the easy way.

  I was also feeling pretty damn good about myself. He called me boy. The crazy idiot had a shotgun aimed at me, and I managed to keep my cool. There were no flashbacks, no creeping feeling of submission curdling my blood. Maybe I was finally getting over the shit that my father did to me. More proof that Rachel and I were good for each other.

  Rachel shifted in her seat, pressing those sweet thighs together as she looked back at me. Some syrup had gathered on her lip, and I wanted to reach over and lick it off of her. “Can you two stop eye-fucking each other for one goddamn minute, please?” Rocco snapped while thrusting his hands through his hair.

  “Can you not say eye-fucking while I’m eating my goddamn waffles?” she fired back with the cutest fucking scowl on her face.

  I couldn’t help but laugh, which made both of them turn their glares on me. “Don’t know what you’re so cocky about, boy,” Rocco said. “There are birds flying around with bigger peckers than what I saw hanging between your legs.”

  Rachel groaned and muttered something about dying from humiliation, but I just grinned and took another bite of waffle. “I’m flattered you checked out my dick, but I think old age is affecting your eyesight. Or maybe you got confused because your own dick is so small.”

  Rocco jumped to his feet, but before he could say or do whatever he was going to, Rachel jumped up as well. “Oh my God, if you both whip those out at the breakfast table to measure them, I am literally gonna puke,” she said, hands braced against the table as she glared at us. “I do not need another reason to go to therapy, thank you very much. Now stop the dick talk, and let’s move on like adults, shall we?”

  I reached over and grabbed her arm, tugging her back down to her seat so I could throw my arm around her shoulders. “You got it, princess.”

  Rocco grudgingly sat down too, muttering something under his breath. I didn’t catch it, but Rachel did, because she huffed out a sigh. “Can you just try to be a good dad right now?”

  “Ah, don’t be so hard on him,” I told her. “Compared to my father, Rocco’s goddamned perfect.”

  I’d meant it to lighten the mood, but both of the Nomars watched me. I could see the wheels turning behind their eyes. “Tell me what happened last night,” Rocco demanded. “All of it. I know you were at the fucking poker club. No more secrets, we’re airing this out here and now.”

  Rachel sucked in a deep breath, and I saw remnants of the girl she was last night. Fear was creeping into those pretty eyes of hers. I knew she struggled to voice what happened to her, and right now, she needed someone else to do all the talking.

  “The man that hurt her? That was Eddie Lancaster, the Macon Mob’s new boss. I didn’t know who he was when he tried to coerce me into killing Rachel. He approached me yesterday. My friend threatened him, so he went after Rachel. I got there, but he tried to take her. I intervened and got her out. That’s when my friends called you.”

  She let out a sigh, and I watched the tension in her shoulders fall free from her body. She gave me an appreciative smile, and fuck if that didn’t make me feel like a damn proud asshole. I wanted to make her smile like that more. “There’s something I don’t understand, though,” I began while twisting to look at Rachel. “Why were you even there in the first place?”

  I watched her look frightened for a moment and knew before her mouth even opened that she was going to lie. “I was there to play poker.”

  “Don’t lie to us,” I said before the “er” in poker could get out. “Tell us why you thought it was okay to go alone to one of the Macon Mob’s hangouts for a fucking photoshoot with Eddie Lancaster.”

  “Fine. I...I hired a hit man,” she said in exasperation, and there it was. The last play in our little game, finally out and in the open.

  “What? H-how did you...what is he...when?” Rocco was sputtering like an idiot, and I couldn’t blame him. I was feeling the same way.

  “His name is Forty-One. I found him on the dark web. I know you wanted to do this, Dad, but I wanted to be in charge of it. I wanted to be the one to arrange Pick—I mean Eddie’s—death. He hurt me. I wanted to be the one to hurt him back, even if it was indirectly. You have to understand that I needed to own this. I couldn’t let you have this.”

  Forty fucking one. Now it all made sense. I was half-wa
y between wanting to strangle her and kiss her for being so resourceful yet reckless. “So you just met up with a murderer you found online?” I asked dryly, though I was kind of proud, to be honest.

  “Yep,” she popped the last syllable and squirmed in her seat.

  “Rachel Bethany Anne Nomar you hired a hit man? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Why didn’t you include me in this crazy fucking plan?” Rocco sputtered.

  “Because you would’ve taken over like you always do, then it would no longer be my revenge. I wanted to call the shots, and yes it was naive and childish, but it felt like I finally had some control over what happened to me. If you want me to apologize, I won’t. But if you want to help me, I’m willing to let you in now.”

  “And what exactly is your plan?” Rocco asked.

  I’d been following their back and forth while thinking of my own situation. I couldn’t necessarily hire a hit man. Gerald Taylor was too visible. His death had to be believable, and the only way was using his gang connections and reputation against him.

  “I needed a name and a photo. Now that I have it, Forty-One takes care of the rest. I just have to wire him half a million dollars.” She mumbled the last part of that statement very quickly, and I had to laugh.

  “Half a fucking million dollars? I could do the job for the price of a bullet!” Rocco roared before slamming his fist on the table.

  An idea was forming in my head, the hazy plan coming together as I stared blankly at the Nomars while they bickered. “We have a lot in common, princess,” I said in a low tone, drawing both of their attentions. “We both want someone that hurt us gone. You know I’m trying to get out of my dad’s business, right?” There was no point in lying about it now. “I told you before, I’m not really a fan of doing the dirty work anymore. Not to mention, he was allied with Johnny Jack. Just because that prick is dead doesn’t mean shit, since Eddie took over.”

  Rocco scoffed. “You’re the poster boy for the Taylor family.”

  “To his face.”

  “And behind his back?” Rocco pressed.

  I hesitated, and my eyes darted over to Rachel, but she gave a tiny nod of her head, urging me on. I dropped my arm from her shoulders so I could rest it on her bare thigh instead, like I got strength from feeling her. “I already told you, behind his back, I’m working to take the bastard down. You might not trust me, but I really have been working to take care of my daddy issues.” I used that phrase intentionally, letting another piece of me fall at Rachel’s feet. Now she knew the truth. Now she knew why it fucking killed me to see her in the hospital. I challenged and insulted her to push her out of a problem I couldn’t escape myself.

  Rocco dug into his plate, shaking his head while staring at his fork like it had personally offended him. “And I already told you. You can’t. Gerald Taylor is untouchable, about as untouchable as Eddie. You think Johnny Jack was hard to take down? He was nothing compared to your father. He’s got so much dirt on everyone that they’re all too scared to have their dirty laundry aired out.”

  “I know that,” I replied easily. “Which is why I made a plan with Judge Palmisano,” I said, kneading my hand over her thigh in a possessive yet tender gesture.

  “What kind of plan?” Rocco asked without looking up from his breakfast.

  “He assured me that if I can find some damn good evidence to get my father thrown in jail, an opposing gang would take care of things. I want my father dead, Rocco. He’s threatened me and mine for the last time,” I said, letting my thumb slowly stroke over Rachel’s soft skin. It was like touching warm velvet.

  “There’s no way you’ll find anything on him. He’s in the clean up business. That rat bastard knows how to cover his tracks,” Rocco said, taking a swig of his coffee.

  “Well then, I guess we should frame him for murder. You once told me you liked to kill two birds with one stone. I think it’s finally time to throw that rock.”

  Rocco started choking violently on his drink, and he pounded a fist against his chest as his whole face grew red from the force it. I watched him calmly, my fingers still slowly trailing over Rachel’s skin, and I had to contain a grin when she tried to lean closer to me, seeking out more from my teasing touch.

  “You want to kill Eddie and use his murder to frame your father?” Rocco strained.

  “Yep. If we’re paying half a million for a hit man, we might as well get our money’s worth,” I admitted, looking him steadily in the eye before turning to look at Rachel. “That is, if that’s okay with you. You’re calling the shots, princess.”

  She slowly absorbed my words before nodding her head, those pearly white teeth sinking into her lip as she stared at me.

  Rocco ran a hand over his face, jarring us out of our moment. “Aww, fuck. Are you sure Judge Palmisano can be trusted? If I get caught up in that, I’m a dead man.”

  “You’re dead already if we don’t take care of my father and Eddie. You’re in the middle of it whether you want to be or not. Besides, I’ve got good enough dirt on Judge Palmisano that he’d suck my cock if I asked him to. I practically own him.”

  Rocco clenched his jaw and slammed down his fork. “Fuck.”

  “Cheer up, Rocco,” I said, pushing away my plate with my free hand. “Just think. With Edward and my father gone, Savannah’s underground criminal ring will be yours.”

  That got a spark in his eye, though he tried to hide it. He stood up and pointed in my face. “Fine, you little shit. I’ll help you coordinate this frame job. But then you’re in with me, one hundred percent. I got the cash, you got the name. Savannah will be ours if we play this right.”

  “I always was a fan of the long game.”

  I had no intention of actually working with Rocco, the only plans I had involved his daughter, but he didn’t have to know that. I’d say whatever he wanted to hear if it meant he’d stop pussyfooting around and help us get what we wanted—Eddie Lancaster and Gerald Taylor six feet under.

  Rocco shook his head. “Yeah. Let’s hope we don’t lose this time. I want to chat with this Forty-One fellow. What the fuck kind of name is that, anyway? We need to make sure he can be trusted before we follow through with this.” Rocco said to Rachel. “Invite him over. We’ll plan after I determine if he can be trusted or not.”

  Rachel smirked at her father, that familiar flare of fire burning up in her chest. I saw her defiance a mile away. “No. Like Godfrey said, I’m calling the shots. I picked out Forty-One. I trust him. If I say he’s the one killing Eddie, then that’s it. You can either be a part of my plan, or we can do this without you. No more taking over, Dad. I value and respect your opinion, but this is my game and my revenge.”

  I would have been proud of my girl if I weren’t burning with fucking jealousy over her faith in this Forty-One guy. Just how close had they gotten? If she got off on murderers, I’d burn the entire Macon Mob alive and gladly serve my life’s sentence. Conjugal visits were a thing, right? I made a mental note to research that.

  “Fine. I’ll play by your rules, but I want to be included every damn step of the way,” Rocco said, standing up. “I’m going to the warehouse. We’ve got to move locations if things go south. Let me know when we can meet to sort out a plan, and I’ll be there with fucking glittery bells on.” He turned to look at me. “And you. You better not be here when I get back, Godfrey. I can only take so fucking much of you.”

  He walked out without another word, the sound of the front door slamming behind him. I turned to Rachel, who was watching me with bright eyes. She reached down and took my hand that was still on her thigh and squeezed. “So. Did you really mean all that? You love me, Godfrey Taylor?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Hmm.”

  She moved her hand from mine and leaned over to kiss my lips. Her small hand reached over and cupped me through my borrowed sweatpants, and I nearly groaned in her mouth.

  “I love you too,” she said against my lips.

  In one swift move, I
stood up, picking her up with me so that her legs had to clamp around my waist, and her arms flew up around my neck. “Say it again.”

  She giggled as I shoved plates aside and placed her on the edge of the table. “I love you.”

  I nipped her lips and traced my tongue along the seam. “Good. Now tell me I can fuck you right here on the kitchen table, with syrup still on your lips.”

  Arousal flushed over her skin as her tongue darted out to lick her lips. “Please do. Make me feel good, God.”

  “My fucking pleasure, princess.”

  I immediately sank to my knees and pulled her thighs over my shoulders. The little minx hadn’t had time to put on any panties. It was doing something to me, knowing she was so damn accessible and ready. I parted her lips with one hand then dove into her with my mouth like it was the sweetest part of my favorite fruit. She tasted so fucking good I couldn’t see straight, and the way she immediately began to ride my mouth had my cock so hard, it fucking hurt.

  “Shouldn’t we talk about what just happened?” she asked, her hands threading and yanking painfully on my hair.

  “Probably,” I spoke against her cunt.

  “Are we going to?” Her husky voice was breathless.

  I laughed, my chuckle making her pussy vibrate so that a loud moan escaped her lips. “Nope.”

  “Oh, God,” she cried out while tugging my hair, guiding my mouth against her nub greedily.

  I cursed at her pussy, mad that something so fucking perfect tasted so good. It was making it hard to choose between tongue-fucking her and sliding my cock into her. I wanted both of it. All of it. Forever. Always.

  After moving her legs from around my shoulders, I stood up and stared at her blissed out face. “But I wanted more,” she pouted in a pleading tone.

  “Not yet.”

  I rubbed my mouth all over her neck, still slick with her juices, smiling against her skin when I felt her crazy pulse going haywire at my touch. “You’re killing me,” she whispered.