“I don’t intend to do it again. They either work or they don’t, but I’m out of it this time.”
McGyver smelled truth, but it was bitter. Brock was staying out of it because he was out of options. “And we all know you’d prefer it doesn’t work. I hope that someday you’ll be happy I’m in her life. Until then, I’m good with our truce.”
McGyver had opted to stay the night so he could spend some time with Clay. It’d been a risk, before he’d met him, because if Clay had gotten on his nerves he’d have been stuck with him. Thankfully, he was looking forward to their evening.
“You have some huge cojones,” he told Clay an hour later, as they sat in a glassed-in area with plants and sofas on top of the roof. They’d carried a large cooler of beer up with them, along with some chips and queso.
“Right back atcha. Brock really doesn’t like you, but you seem to have earned his respect.” He took a swig of beer. “So, when you gonna pop the question?”
McGyver had the ring, but he needed to get past the birthday and trust fund issues before she’d be ready to think about the next stage of her life.
“See, you’re her BFF, so while talking to you about that might help make any decisions I may or may not be considering easier, except I know too much about how BFF’s share stuff, so I don’t dare talk to you about that.”
Clay laughed. “She loves you. She’s happy with you. I don’t know for sure what she’d answer. It wouldn’t be no, but it might be ask me again in six months.”
Which was why Danny intended to phrase the question so she’d know she had a year to plan the wedding, if she needed time.
Clay took another swig of beer. “I about shit my pants when she told me she’d accepted a vest declaring her your property.”
McGyver started to change the subject, but then remembered this man was going to be around his brothers — which meant he needed to educate him. “Might do you some good to look up biker etiquette online.”
Clay put his beer down. “Already have. I know not to offer to shake hands first, or touch anyone’s vest, or call someone brother. And I’m sorry if you’re offended that I’m surprised she accepted that vest, but… c’mon. You’ve met her. You know who she is. Tell me you weren’t at all worried about her reaction when you gave it to her.”
“It’s a sign of respect to the woman wearing it. She gets it. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be mine.”
“But if someone gets a shot of her wearing it…”
McGyver sighed. “We’ve dealt with the photographers, but yeah, they have some pretty damned long-range cameras, so the risk is there.” He shrugged. “She isn’t ashamed of us. It’ll happen eventually and she knows what to say and how to act.”
“Dealt with them?”
“Yep.” No way in fuck was McGyver going to implicate himself or his brothers in the crime of beating the holy hell out of people trying to take pictures of them. They’d dealt with them when it became known Suli of Mythic Beast was an ol’lady in their club — the reputation had actually sold music for Mythic Beast, but it was important they made sure they weren’t photographed breaking the law. Now, with Iris, they’d needed to do it again, and the message seemed to stick easier and faster.
“Are you gay or bi?” he asked Clay.
“Technically, I’m pan since I dated a drag queen a while, but to answer your question, I just like men.”
“You ever change your mind about that, you should talk to me and explain before I find out another way.”
Clay took a long drink, probably considering how best to answer.
“And that’s a subtle warning that you’re going to let Iris and me spend time together and be physical with hugs and cuddles only because I’m gay, right?”
“Didn’t intend it to be subtle.”
Clay laughed. “At the risk of getting punched, I have to say I adore you. Iris needs someone in her life who won’t back down when she’s bitchy, and who’ll have the balls to call her his property. I’m glad the two of you found each other again.”
“Do you mean to speak with a French accent?”
“I’ve been living in Paris too long, I think. It’s time I moved back to the States, but I love my job and don’t want to leave.”
McGyver sighed. “For reasons I understand but would be hard pressed to fully explain, the gay Tops are more easily accepted by the club than the gay bottoms. And maybe Tops and bottoms isn’t clear enough, perhaps I should say fuckers and fuckees. Razor is one of us, Matty’s more like an ol’lady, and I don’t think we’d ever patch him in. I thought you were like Matty and Spence, from what Iris had said, but now that I’ve met you, I’m not so sure, and I realize I’m asking questions that aren’t any of my business, but I’m trying to figure out how my brothers are going to react to you.”
“Not really something I talk about with straight men.”
McGyver took a drink of beer and didn’t comment.
Several long minutes later, Clay said, “Technically, I identify as versatile, because I enjoy all forms of sex with men. However, my preference is Topping, and when I bottom, I’m what’s known as a power bottom. I’m smaller than most men, and I dress like a bottom, and can talk like one when it behooves me professionally, but my ideal partner works out and has huge muscles, and will do whatever I tell him to do, whenever I tell him to do it.”
“Thanks for sharing.”
“I feel it necessary to make sure you understand what the term power bottom means.”
McGyver shook his head, unwilling to verbally admit he had no idea and had made a mental note to look it up.
“It means I’m the one in charge, even when I’m being fucked. From a power exchange perspective, I’m always the Top. From a gay perspective, I enjoy pitching more than catching, but depending upon my mood, I may want to switch things up.”
“I appreciate your candor.”
“You’d have just asked Iris, and then she’d have felt torn between her loyalties for the two of us.”
“And that makes you a better man than her father. He hates me more than he loves her, and he wasn’t worried about hurting her in his quest to get rid of me. You immediately put her needs over yours, and you have my respect.”
“Iris wouldn’t tell me the details of what happened, but I gather you beat the old man at his own game, and that’s how you earned his respect.”
“Something along those lines.”
Clay got two more beers from the cooler and handed one to McGyver. “I don’t want to pretend we haven’t met, when she introduces us.”
“Agreed. We’ll tell her we’ve talked, and if she asks when, maybe just ask her if she really thought her possessive boyfriend was going to be okay with another man in her life that he didn’t know.”
“Diversion instead of lying.” Clay smiled. “I’m a big fan.”
“I’m not, but it’s a necessary evil. After her birthday party’s over, I’ll tell her I flew down to help with the planning, and that’s when we met. Until then, diversion works.”
“Does she know what you are?”
“She does, and she’s been bound to the secret. I’d prefer it if you told her what you are, so I don’t have to lie to her.”
Clay nodded. “Gladly. I’ve wanted to tell her, but we aren’t romantic so my options were limited.”
Hawks aren’t terribly sociable, except with their mate, so McGyver understood his dilemma.
Chapter 37
No one had asked Iris for input on her party, which was unheard of, and she was rather nervous about that. She wanted to know what to expect, but when she asked her father, he merely told her it was being handled and she didn’t need to worry about it.
So she focused on what she could control — clothes, shoes, hair, and makeup. She’d contracted with a well-known designer to create her outfit: a jumper with wide, flared pants, and spaghetti straps holding up a perfectly fitted bodice. She’d wear a small blazer over it for the meeting with her father and his at
torneys a few hours before her party.
She wasn’t going to walk into the legal meeting by herself, though. She’d put Zeke on retainer, and he would attend with her.
Iris was now a college graduate. Just after the ceremony the week before, she and Gen had flown to New York for a two-day shopping spree — and for the final fitting for Iris’s birthday outfit. She found that she liked Gen better one-on-one, away from the other ol’ladies, than she did in the group.
It’d taken Iris a while to understand the difference in hanging out in the neighborhood versus hanging out in the clubhouse. Same people, but different rules. The clubhouse was more formal — no speaking unless spoken to for certain events, especially public ones, no approaching a group of bikers unless invited to speak to them, and no interrupting. Ever. She was good at reading body language, so when a group of the men were together even in the neighborhood, she’d most often leave them alone. If she really needed Danny, she’d text him, rather than walk up and interrupt.
You’d expect a male oriented club to attract submissive women, but most of the ol’ladies were alpha females out in the world, though they seemed to submit to their men easily enough.
Even Tippy, who was about as submissive and shy and timid as they come, owned her own business fixing and making firearms.
“You seem deep in thought,” Clay told her over breakfast. They’d been seen at all of the most popular places in New York the night before, and they were both nursing hangovers in the suite the next morning.
“Five hours until I meet with Daddy and his team of lawyers. I’m walking in with my own attorney, but I’m honestly not sure why I thought that was necessary. Daddy’s in full control, here.”
“Not full control. He got rid of Danny once and it backfired — he’s aware your wild years were a direct result of losing your true love like that, and now, despite the fact he got rid of him, the man is back in your life. Also, your Danny apparently beat your father at his own game.”
“What does that have to do with his decision about my trust fund?”
“He loves you. He wants to be in your life. My bet is that he’ll find a compromise between giving it to you outright and giving it to charity. If he was going to piss you off, he’d do it the day after the party, not a few hours before.”
That thought had occurred to Iris, too.
“You sure your man won’t fuck around on you?” Clay asked. “He’s at a party with another chapter now, right? Lots of strange that’s totally available, if he wants it?”
“He’d sooner cut his own heart out than cheat on me. He isn’t wired that way.” Clay had told her about being a hawk, and Danny had verified it was okay to talk to Clay about the fact he’s a wolf. So, she told him, “Wolf, remember? They mate for life.” Clay had told her Hawks are monogamous and frequently mate for life, but sometimes only mate for a few seasons before changing partners.
She sighed. “I might need help dealing with the anger I feel around mom’s death, my own kidnapping, and the life sentences those men got. I mean, I know it takes a lot for someone to get the needle, and they wouldn’t necessarily be killed in today’s justice system even if the judge ordered lethal injection, but I want them to suffer more. I wish we still hung people.”
“Who decided you and your father would go to court to hear sentencing? Why didn’t Danny go?”
“Daddy’s PR people said it should be the two of us. Danny wasn’t around when she was killed, and we should keep the same optics.”
“And you never considered that your dad wanted you all to himself, and didn’t want the big, bad, biker around? Danny was front and center during your kidnapping, and that was the same asswipes.”
She shrugged. “Mom mostly took the PR people’s advice as law. I guess I do too. You make a good point, though.”
“Of course I do. I’ll listen and try to help, but you should talk to your dad. He’ll know how to get you in touch with the best therapist in Chattanooga.”
“You’re right. I don’t want to talk about it now, I just get so angry sometimes. I know it isn’t healthy.”
Thankfully, Clay knew when to change the subject. “Tell me the dirt on Reyna.”
Iris shrugged. “She’s terrified of leaving the house. Daddy makes her once a week, and she sees professionals who are helping her. Immigration is going to expect them to have gone public with their marriage before they give her citizenship, so she knows she’s going to have to be seen on his arm, but it’s going to be really hard for her.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but none of it was a lie.
“Don’t tell me there isn’t some kind of power exchange going on. I know a submissive when I see one.”
“Maybe, but I’d rather not know those kinds of details about my father.” Also not a lie. She knew, but she often wished she didn’t. “I like her. Daddy’s needed someone in his life, and she seems good for him.”
“She’s younger than you.”
“I’m aware.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Daddy doesn’t get to pick my boyfriends, and I don’t get to pick his girlfriends. I like her, she’s good for him, and that’s all that matters.”
“And this new not-a-brother?”
“Fuck, Clay. I like him in some ways, and I’m totally annoyed by him in others. I’m dealing. Why are you asking me these questions when I’m sober, and not when I was drunk?”
“I kept thinking you’d bring it up once you started drinking, but you didn’t, and then I was too far gone to navigate the questions.”
“And you’re sure you don’t have someone missing you in one of the Paris dungeons?”
“Missing me?” He shrugged. “Probably, but I’m not serious about any of them. You know how it is — plenty of men want me to play with them. I don’t intend to stay in Paris forever though, so it doesn’t make sense to fall for a native Parisian.”
“But someone who isn’t native?”
Another shrug. “It’s possible there’s someone I might consider, should he follow me back to the States when I decide it’s time to come home.”
“And you’re stringing him along in the meantime?”
He looked at her without answering, but she wasn’t ready to drop it. “Can I see a picture?”
“You assume I have one?”
She considered his body language while she ate some yogurt. “Yeah.”
He rolled his eyes, touched his phone a few times, and handed it to her.
And she saw a bodybuilder with muscles everywhere. He was standing on a pier, with the railing behind him, which let Iris see exactly how big he was.
“Damn, Clay. He’s huge.”
“Yes. He’s a personal trainer to the uber-rich. It’s how I first met him. He flirted with me at the club, but I didn’t give any positive feedback because I’m only interested in submissives. He didn’t ding for me, but then I saw him bound to a cross in the club, and...” He shrugged and gave her a mischievous grin.
“I’d love to meet him.”
He shook his head. “He moved to Paris for a boyfriend a few years ago. They broke up, but he had a nice clientele established so he stayed. I won’t let things get too serious unless he’ll follow me back to the States when I return. Meeting my friends is too big of a step. I need to know he’ll follow me, first.”
“But that could be years away, Clay. Are you really going to chance losing him because you can’t commit until you’re sure he’ll follow?”
“And what about you? You’ve graduated and your six-month lease is nearly up. Are you leaving Chattanooga? Moving away from Danny?”
Iris shrugged. “Danny’s let me know I’m welcome to move in with him, but I think I want my own place. I should probably be in Atlanta or New York, so I’ll be more visible, but I’ve come to love Chattanooga. Living right on the Tennessee River has been good for me. I feel drawn to the energy of the river. I loved my time in Monte Carlo so much, and I’m beginning to believe it’s because I stayed in
a villa twenty yards from the Mediterranean. I think I thrive when living beside large bodies of water. Oddly enough, though, it feels like I get energy from the forest behind Danny’s house, too.”
“Your last stint in rehab was good for you. You never took the time to feel the energy of the land until they taught you to be still with yourself.” He put his fork down. “I’ll probably land in New York, when I return. I’ve had a few decent offers on the west coast, so that’s a possibility, but I prefer the east coast. A shoe company in Atlanta courted me last year, but I couldn’t get excited about designing athletic shoes. There’s a sportswear company in Atlanta I might consider, should they make an offer.”
“Or you could start your own label, and New York would work for that.” She changed the subject before he could argue. “There’s a pilot in Chattanooga with her own plane I like well enough, so whether you’re in Atlanta or New York won’t make that big of a difference. California would be a pain, though.” She shrugged. “Assuming I get at least some of my trust fund. If not, Atlanta’s a short drive and New York isn’t.”
He looked at the clock on the wall. “Speaking of your trust fund, it’s time for you to get dressed. We still have to fly to Birmingham so you can meet with your father.”
Zeke put his hand on her back as they walked through the door into the building. “It’s going to be okay. Breathe.”
“My biggest fear is that Daddy’s going to do something to damage our relationship. We’ve come so far since I decided to open up and let him see the grown-up me. I don’t want to lose that.”
“You’re pretty sharp when it comes to reading legal documents. Why am I really here?”
“Backup, so I have someone else’s eyeballs.” She blew out a breath and gave the rest of the truth. “And moral support. Someone on my side. Daddy specifically said Danny couldn’t come because it’s a family thing, but since he’ll have a team of attorneys in the room, it seemed fair I walk in with one, too.”
McGyver Page 32