Back to Her
Page 13
“Looks good.” I hand the stack of papers her way, running a hand from my forehead to the back of my head, pushing the hair that’s constantly falling down back into place. “Take that and give it to Stella in the back. She’ll set up your section for tonight, give you house rules again, and you’ll train with Rita.”
She gives me a snarky eye roll as she comes back, “I don’t need to train—” But I cut her off without ceremony.
“There’s the fucking door.” I jerk my head to the left, where the bouncers are checking IDs and collecting the ten-dollar cover just to walk in. “Got it?”
To my surprise, she proves she has something between her ears, because without another word, she’s spun on her stiletto toward the back hallway.
Another snort from Ransom and I turn to see him squirt 7UP into four rocks glasses lined up on the worn wooden bar.
“If I had one tenth of the tail you have wagging in your face, I’d die the happiest man on the fucking planet.” He shakes his head as he tops off each of the four glasses with Seagram’s and a maraschino cherry, then lifts two in each hand onto Trina’s waiting tray. “Table six, beautiful.”
She rolls her eyes, but a wry grin plays on her lips as Ransom tops off his compliment with a wink.
“Shut the fuck up.” I stand from the barstool, arching my back.
I toss back the last bit of my smoothie with a satisfied grunt, then slide the glass to Ransom, smacking my lips together.
He knows I don’t poach; he and everyone else in this place. In fact, my lack of interest in anything resembling the opposite sex has become more than just whispers and speculation to the staff, but I don’t give a fuck. Think what they want, gossip all they want...sticking my dick in any pussy that offers was never my thing to begin with. And in the last six years, it’s not only just not my thing, it’s impossible.
“How do you drink that shit?” He shakes his head with a disdainful squint as he picks up my empty glass with his fingertips, as though it is tainted with Ebola.
“I don’t taste it. I just drink it. Mind over matter.”
“Hemp seed and pea protein?” He looks like he’s going to vomit as he turns to put the glass in the sink. The sides are coated with the grainy remains of my daily regimen. “If I could refuse to make that for you, you know I would. There’s gotta be some rule about making some hippie health drink behind the counter of the biggest biker bar in three states.”
I choke out a laugh. “This isn’t a biker bar. It’s a tourist attraction.”
“That it is,” he agrees, tending to the next in an endless line of waitresses that will come and go from the service station on his twelve-hour shift.
Just at that moment, my senses prick, and I feel my back straighten. They say grizzly bears have the olfactory capacity to pick up scents from up to eighteen miles away. I think when it comes to Roxie, I’ve got that shit beat.
She’s not even around the corner yet, but I know she’s coming. It’s not even the scent. No, after all these years, it’s as though I see her with some sixth or seventh sense, something bestowed upon me by hell itself.
Because seeing her, smelling her, knowing she’s close and never being able to touch her has been my own personal living hell. But I’d take this torture every day until the end of my days just to know she’s close. Safe.
Having her in my life in any way has given me purpose.
But today, things are different. I want to hold her more than usual. Because she’s hurting and I can’t fix it. Fuck, I’m hurting, but that doesn’t affect me. I’ve learned to put away my emotions for her sake. Most people who know me think I’m a black hearted son of a bitch. And I can be. I am about a lot of shit, but truth is, when it comes to her, I’d give my right nut just to hold her in my lap.
Brush her fucking hair.
Listen to her tell me every thought and dream in that amazing mind.
My dick is hard as lead just knowing she’s about to step into my day, same as she has every day for the last six years. Only today, she needs me to step up into her world. More than ever. More than was allowed before.
And I intend to do just that, even if it kills me.
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OTHER TITLES BY DANI WYATT
Standalones
Wrangler
Reigning Her In
Sweet Ride
Valentine's Rose
Forging Forever
Just Until Morning
Saddled
Perfect
His to Break
Meet. F*ck. Done.
Keeping Her Close
Rough Neck
Back to Her
Night Before
Love, Daddy Series
Angel
Mastering Her Heart
HIS Rules
The Forever Collection
Where She Belongs
When She’s Mine
Promise Duet
Promise
Cherish
Southside MMA Series
Force
Push
Cut Series
Hard Cut
Thank You.
I have met so many amazing people since I started putting my
naughty thoughts on the page. To some of the first fans who supported me, the bloggers,
fellow authors who have been more than generous with their
time and opinions as well as the other professionals that
put up with my particular kind of crazy, thank you.
My undying gratitude goes out to so many.
Every day that when we support each other
everyone wins.
xoxoxo
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dani Wyatt used to feel bad about having such dirty thoughts. Luckily, one day she decided to start writing them down. Her uber-alpha heroes have a wicked possessive streak and an insatiable libido. Her heroines are intelligent, quirky, and worry about having too much muffin top. With her books, you can count on a heaping helping of HOT, a dash of rough and always a happily ever after.
When she's not writing (which is not often) she is probably laughing about some irony (like A-1 Steak Sauce is vegan), riding her horse, wondering why The Walking Dead can't have a new episode every night or looking cross-eyed at some piece of technology sent to ruin her day.