***Simi***

I watch as Sico comes strolling down the stairs. His hair is tied back up again and he’s wearing dark blue jeans and a hoodie underneath his cut. Looks like he’s going out. I’m in the kitchen with Calix. Yes, I hightailed out of my bedroom as soon as Sico disappeared into the bathroom. To be honest...it’s weird, the way he’s been acting and the words that tumble from his normally rude mouth. The last few days he seemed different, but now? Weird doesn’t cut it anymore, it’s freaking me out.

“Keep an eye on my ol’lady, I’m going over to Brandlee’s. I got a text telling me he’s got time now.” Sico winces when he looks at the kitchen table.

Sico wasn’t kidding, Calix is one damn fine cook. The food that’s on the table looks amazing and the way it smells? I’m already drooling.

“Save me some?” Sico looks from me to Calix.

“You’re aware Zack probably doesn’t want you heading out alone, huh?” Calix replies.

Sico shrugs. “Blue is working and I’m heading over there. It’s almost closing time so he’ll be there to pick her up. I’ll be fine.”

“In that case, I’ll save you some. If your woman doesn’t eat everything.” Calix’s chuckle is one that makes my breath halt.

It’s a rich sound and that’s probably because of this guy’s chest size. He’s very attractive, don’t get me wrong...but there’s this vibe radiating off him that I would gladly back away from. Besides...if Sico wasn’t such an asshole I would be...no. My mind will never go there. This thing between us is what it is; a shield for me to hide behind from the outside world. People judge either way, everyone in the club doesn’t look at me different, even if they’d ever see the video that’s...

Sico steps closer to me and wraps a hand into my hair. Tilting my head back, he slams his mouth over mine and...holy shit. He’s kissing me. Like really, tongue swirling around like he’s exploring grounds he’s never been to. And he hasn’t. My hands fly up to grab his cut and hold on, because that’s all I can do...hold on. I have no other choice.

Pulling back, he places his forehead against mine. “That was a onetime free sample for my own pleasure. Expect three more when I get back. I’m just firing up that mouth of yours so it’s ready to suck me off when I get back.”

He’s already left the kitchen before I can punch him in the nuts. “Asshole,” I bellow after him. He just freaking waves without turning around, letting the front door slam shut behind him.

“Well, that’s a first,” Calix states, making my head turn in his direction.

“What? Him passing up your food?” I question.

Calix slowly shakes his head and reaches inside his pocket. Placing cufflinks on the kitchen table, he takes his time to roll down his sleeves and put them back in. I should laugh but to be honest...I’m afraid to because this man here looks like he can snap my neck with one hand. But those cufflinks? Superman’s logo. Ego much?

When my eyes meet his, there isn’t a hint of challenge in there when he throws out, “I’m also wearing matching blue underwear, wanna see?”

Okay, now I do laugh, except, “You’re fucking with me, I won’t walk into that trap. Besides...I’ve got my eyes wide open, you’ve got white pants, genius...I would have noticed.”

“Checking out my ass there, pet?” Yikes, his voice. “I’ll be sure to mention that to Sico when he returns.”

All the humor leaves my body the next instant. The way he said those words just now, sheer dominance that doesn’t leave room for question. Anyone would bow to this man, that’s for sure.

“Very good response. Now, what I meant was, his mouth on you. That’s a first. Sico rarely puts his mouth near a female. What happened between the fucking against the wall and when you walked into the kitchen just now?” He doesn’t wait for my answer but spins around and starts to set the table.

“He told you that?” I whisper, more to myself than to him, then suddenly realize he must have been already inside the house. “You saw us,” I gasp and swallow back some curses to myself about being stupid and not aware of my surroundings.

Ugh, I can’t believe we gave him a show. On the other hand...the man owns a BDSM club, compared to this we might have bored the shit out of him. Thinking over Calix’s words, I slap a hand over my mouth, my eyes staring at the table because...why all of a sudden did he change?

“Spill.” That word out of Calix’s mouth is a hard snap that makes our gazes collide. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

A shiver runs through my body, my eyes hit the floor. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Calix releases a deep sigh. “Listen,” his voice now laces with a kind tone compared to earlier, “I’m a detective. Folks new to the club rarely slip by me.”

Oh, no. No, no, no. I swallow hard because I know what’s coming next.

“Yes, I know. Stop with running around in that head of yours. And relax because I’m not done yet. Sico? I’m betting my left nut he knows what went down too. I’ve known since a few hours after I heard the news you were going to work at your brother’s tattoo shop. Sico? I’m guessing he either found out yesterday or at least before he shot those fuckers in your front lawn. He’s not running, is he?”

I slowly shake my head. Although Sico rushed out of the house, that wasn’t to get as far away from me as he could. On the contrary, he made quite the statement about cashing in something I promised.

“He’s fixing and holding on to the ties that bind the two of you, Everleigh. Even a blind fucker can see the two of you are carved from the same tree. Though you had a screwed-up incident in life that spiraled into a make-believe bubble you wrap around you for protection. Sico’s the selfish, asshole bastard he grew up to be for a reason. Practically no upbringing and what’s left of his family rotting in prison would do that to a guy. He’s never met his mother and I’m not even sure he knows who she is to begin with. Probably one of the women they kept around and when she popped him out, she dumped him in his father’s lap. That fucker was part of an MC that was filled with lowlife scum that had a chain of human trafficking. Sico was raised to take what suited him. To take what he liked, from women and anyone else for that matter. He just doesn’t care, and why should he? No one cared for him. In the end it doesn’t matter what your background is, it’s how you place your foot in front of the other in this fucked up world. The two of you do that every day. Difference is...Sico seems to have shifted some of his chips off his shoulder. You’re the reason he did that, he seems to think you’re worth a shot. And you? Are you going to let that asshole in?”

Placing my elbows on the kitchen table, I rub my temples. Shit. That was a lot to take in. No wonder Sico never opens up or even talks about himself. He’s living in the ‘now’ constantly and taking what life has to offer. Gonna let that asshole in? Calix’s question flows through my head again. Yet I have no answer.

This whole ol’lady thing didn’t give me much of a choice, though every time my mind tells me it’s perfect to hide behind. A safety net. But to truly open up and maybe have a shot of a future with this man? It’s not that I would have to worry about his family finding out about what happened in my past.

“Can we eat now?” I sigh, deflecting his question since I have no clue how to answer it and I’ve got a headache already building as it is.

Calix doesn’t say another word but fills his plate and starts eating. The way he’s eating? Like he’s in the fanciest restaurant ever instead of in my kitchen. Now that for me raises questions.

“What’s your story? I’ve heard you own a BDSM club, are a detective, a bartender, a biker...yet the way you eat makes me think you’re a king during a royal buffet. What’s up with that?” I question while I keep my gaze locked on him.

He doesn’t answer or make it known that he’s heard me, nope...he just finishes his plate and when he does, he grabs a napkin and touches his mouth before he sits back and stares at me. By this point I’m returning the favor, ignoring his ass while relishing the fact that this man can really cook. Damn, my belly is doing a happy dance with all that goodness I just devoured.

“Old money. That’s where I come from. What some might see as the perfect dream was in reality a daily struggle to live through. Meaning I had manners whipped into me from the first day I could walk. The elite demands everything to be done a certain way. Let’s just keep it to the fact that I was even taught how to breath correctly, so I don’t have to show you my back where the scars of a belt buckle are etched in there. Someone’s life might seem roses and sunshine but no one other than yourself gets to walk in your shoes. Appearances are just that, Everleigh...outer visual. It’s not what defines you nor are the people who judge and haunt you. The shit I endured growing up turned me into the fucker I am now. Except nothing defines me. I take what I want out of life and give what I think should be freely given. There’s a balance. My personal balance I’ve created inside my head that helps me cope with everything that involves living. It’s the reason I like to sit back and watch. Either from behind the bar, in my own club, a case that needs to be solved, I like ripping people...their personality or lives...apart. It’s what makes me tick. And I can tell you, Everleigh. Everybody’s got skeletons in their backyard, buried deep or burned to ash that’s dusting their life. But it’s all about the way people live their life and carry it with them. Hence the reason not one soul is alike in this fucked up world.”

“Are your parents still alive?” Yes, that’s my only reply, crap. I might sound like an idiot avoiding all the heavy stuff he threw out just now.

His rich chuckle rings out before he answers my question. “Yes. Very much. They’ve moved to London, retired and are living in their own high-status world where I am demanded to be present at least four times a year during one of their organized charity events. Being the heir and all, anything for outer appearances. Yet, I indulge them because that’s the only time I get to see my mother. She wasn’t all that bad.”

“Wow.” The corner of my mouth twitches. “I guess you’re right about everyone having their own skeletons...guess yours are dipped in gold, huh?”

I can tell he’s having a hard time trying not to laugh. “Something like that,” he replies and then he takes off the cufflinks again to roll up his sleeves.

“I don’t mind doing the dishes, you’ve cooked, I’ll clean up. And hey...you never wear jeans or just a shirt? Always the suit? Even when you ride? Doesn’t a biker need to wear his leather cut?”

“I have leathers and wear them.” That’s all he says as he gets up and leaves the kitchen.

That man is a loaded package. Seriously, with the stuff he just threw out...the little hint about his background? That’s barely scratching the surface. Talk about your millionaire, Dom, biker, hot detective, barman. That right there would freak me out, that’s just way too much for a woman to handle. I’ll take my asshole biker any day over that guy. Wait, what? Shit. I guess his little talk did make more of an impact than I thought. Shaking my head to clear it, I start with the dishes and enjoy the silence of this mundane task.

It’s late at night when Sico stumbles into my bedroom. The room is wrapped in darkness but I’m wide awake. Sico however looks like he’s drunk off his ass. He stumbles toward the bathroom and it takes everything in me not to burst out in laughter. The shirt he just pulled up is stuck over his head and is blocking his eyesight, making him run straight into the wall right next to the bathroom door.

His curses flow through the air as he lands on his ass. Groaning, he wiggles like a snake, still down on the floor while he undresses. That’s when I notice the bandages on both of his forearms. He’s got fresh ink. That’s why he went over to my brother? What the hell did he get? And why does my chest hurt with an unexpected emotion...why didn’t he ask me to ink him? I have my gear right here too. Asshole. I snuggle deeper into my pillow and close my eyes. Fuck him.