BRANDON
Shark’s face scrunched up as the waitress brought us our breakfast. His plate of scrambled eggs had more liquid on it than the bowl of grits he ordered on the side. I shook my head and dug into my pancakes.
“What’s with you lately? Not getting enough tail?” I asked between bites.
He pushed the eggs out of the way and dug into his bacon. “Plenty. She never wants off this cock.” He grinned as a piece of bacon fell out of his mouth.
“Classy.” I shook my head.
“Nah. I think I’m gonna make her my old lady. Hell, I might even marry her, make an honest woman outta her.”
I tried not to choke on my coffee. “Marry?”
He eyed me for a minute and took a deep breath. “She’s pregnant.” A wide grin split his face and for a second, I thought he would burst.
“Fuck! Really?” I laughed. “A kid?” I grinned back at him. “That’s great.” I meant it, too. Just because we walked the tightrope of the law, didn’t mean we didn’t want the simpler pursuits of life. Too many times I caught myself daydreaming about having a woman, pregnant with my kid and having another rug rat climbing all over me. Dangerous dreams. I tried to keep that shit to a minimum. I didn’t have time for that, I told myself over and over again. Here Shark was, getting ready to be a dad and a husband, and damn if I didn’t feel a tinge of jealousy in my chest.
“Yeah,” he nodded. He tried to hide it, but I could see the excitement in his eyes. He’d wanted a family, a stable woman, kids, yard, everything he never had growing up after his pops ran off with some waitress.
“Great. It’ll be great.” I said again as I eyed a pixie-haired beauty enter the diner. Shark started talking. I watched Hannah enter the restaurant and head for the counter. She was back in her cotton sundress and white gym shoes. The woman looked like she belonged in a Sunday school job, not playing the whore for a bunch of dirty MC members. The Soldiers weren’t easy riders either, yet she didn’t look as though they’d worn her out. If the tightness of her pussy told me anything, it was that if she really were an MC whore she didn’t mess around too often.
The waitress with wild red hair spiked in every direction jotted down Hannah’s order and pointed to the stools at the counter for her to wait. She hadn’t noticed me yet, so I kept watching while Shark rambled on about how he was gonna to propose to his girl. When Hannah sat on the stool, she leaned on the counter, the short sleeve of her dress crept farther up her arm and that’s when I saw it. A dark purple bruise. My gut twisted, and I shoved away from our booth, ignoring Shark’s questions.
“What happened?” I demanded before she even saw me coming.
She jumped and looked at me with confusion. “Brandon. Hey.” She quickly scanned the restaurant before giving me a small smile.
“What happened?” I asked again, placing one hand on the counter and the other on the back of her stool, trapping her right in front of me.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your arm.” I yanked the sleeve farther up and saw the bruise went up her arm all the way to her shoulder. “This.”
Her face paled when she looked at the marking on her arm. Not because she hadn’t already seen it, but probably because of the anger she saw in my face at noticing it.
“Who did this to you?”
She yanked her arm away and looked around. “No one.” Pulling her sleeve back down, she shot me a glare. “An accident. I’m fine. Go back to your friend.”
“Who did that to you?” I asked again, moving my face closer to hers. I wouldn’t’ let her get away without an answer. Someone put hands on her, hurt her.
“Brandon. Please, you’re making a scene.” She looked around the restaurant, and I realized the other customers were probably looking at us.
“Sit with me then.” I didn’t give her a chance to deny me. I laced my fingers through hers and pulled her from her stool and half dragged her to the booth where Shark and I were sitting.
Shark saw us coming and scooted from his seat. “Hey,” he nodded to Hannah. “Uh. I’m gonna head back. Lacy just sent a text; she’s not having a good morning.”
“Coward.” Hannah shot at him.
He clapped me on the back and headed out, leaving me with the damn check. Again.
“Now tell me what happened. And no bullshit.”
“Or what? No orgasm from you?” She rolled her eyes.
“Hannah.” I tried to appeal to her sense. “Did Carter hurt you? Because if he did-”
“What? You’ll kick his ass? Start a war over the Soldiers’ whore?” She laughed and ran her fingers through her short hair, wincing at the pain the movement caused her arm.
I took a deep breath. She was right. If I went in fists blazing, a war would follow. “Okay. Just tell me what happened. Please.” I all but growled.
Her grin widened. “Now who’s begging?” She teased me, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Look, it’s not like you’re not rough.”
“What does that mean?”
“The other day, when I wouldn’t drop my pants for you. That was you, right, who bent me over and–well–” A soft blush covered her face. “You know what you did.” She looked away from me then; it was my turn to grin.
“Spanked you? Hell, yes. And I’d do it again if you defy me. Look I may be a bit more traditional when it comes to my women, but I don’t use them as a punching bag. A spanking for disobeying, that’s one thing. A punch to the arm, totally different.”
“You’d spank your girlfriend?”
“If she defied me? Hell yes. Not just in bed, either. That shit’s hot in there, but in the real world, if I say she needs to do something, there’s a reason and if she doesn’t listen, then yes, I’d bend her over my knee and spank her good.”
Her jaw dropped and she stared at me as though I had just admitted to murdering her cat. “I can’t believe you just admitted that.” She whispered as though it were something to hide.
“Why? I wouldn’t ever be with a woman who didn’t understand that going into it. And my old lady would be on the same page as me about who gave orders and who took them.” I watched her expression, looking for the repulsion I’d seen in other girls I expressed my views to.
She looked at me with more curiosity. “So the spanking the other day–”
“Really a cake walk compared to real discipline.” I placed my hand over hers; she was tearing a napkin to shreds onto the table without even realizing it. “Hannah. Who did this to you?”
“I appreciate your concern, really, but there’s nothing you can do about it.” I couldn’t ignore the defeat in her voice, the sound grating against my skin.
“Like hell, I can’t.” The waitress showed up with Hannah’s order all wrapped up and placed it on the table with the check. I plucked the bill from her before she could get to it, and pretended I didn’t see the sour glare she shot my way.
“I don’t see you as the relationship type.” The change in topic threw me for a second and I had to think about what she was talking about. “I mean you talk like you’d like one, but I can’t see you bothering with it.”
“Bothering with it?”
“Yeah. I mean a relationship takes effort. Feelings. I don’t see you as the type to have either of those qualities.” If she was trying to piss me off, she was doing a pretty good job. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you definitely like the physical stuff with a girl, but the real stuff, I don’t see it. You talk a big game–spanking, ha! Like a woman would ever let you do that.”
Hadn’t I told myself that time and time again? I had no time for a woman. No time for a relationship. Yet here I was talking as though I’d planned it all out. “Maybe I just haven’t met the right girl.” I tried to sound casual, not stare too deeply into her eyes when I said it–because the idea that there was a right girl out there left me feeling unsettled. “And, Hannah, you liked that spanking I gave you the other night.” Her jaw dropped. “And you’d like being under my control all the time, too. A discipline spanking is a small price to pay in comparison to the rewards of being a good girl.” The hot flush that erupted on her cheeks and the dilation of her pupils told me everything I needed to know about her response.
“Fuck off.”
I laughed. The woman had no idea how easy she could be read. Tossing the bills on the table to pay her tab and my own, I picked up her food. “I’ll walk you to your car.” I nodded toward the front door. Thankfully she didn’t give me any crap about it and slid out of the booth, heading to the exit. I watched her ass sway while she walked, the skirt of her dress moving along with her steps, and it took more strength than I thought I had not to grab her at that moment and drag her to the back room.
She led me to a compact rundown car that looked like it crawled to the diner. “You drove this thing?” I couldn't stop the disgust from appearing in my voice.
“Yeah. It’s my car.” She put a hand on her hip and glared at me. Those beautiful eyes narrowed in the sunlight, but I could see the smile on her lips just fine. “It’s a bit old, but it gets me where I’m going.”
I shook my head and pulled the driver's door open half expecting it to fall off, there was so much rust. “Why don’t you ask Carter to get this fixed up?” I prodded. I’d seen enough of her expressions when he was mentioned to know she didn’t hold him in the kindest light.
She huffed. “Right.” Taking her food from my hands, she put it in the car then looked up at me, shielding her eyes from the sunlight with her hand.
“Is Carter the one who put his hands on you?” I blocked her exit from the car and held the door so she couldn't shut it if she decided to retreat inside. “I won’t let you go without an answer.”
“You said yourself you’d–”
“I said I’d spank her, and only if she had agreed to that.” I shoved my hand through my hair; this woman made me lose my patience so damn easily. How the hell did I let her keep coming back to that topic? “I would never do this.” I gripped her arm where the bruise was and waited until she winced before for I let go. “Now, who the fuck did it?”
The revving of an engine distracted her. I caught a glimpse of the bike driving down the street, slowing down as it approached us. One of the Soldiers. Not giving a shit, I looked back to her, ready to demand an answer again. Those sweet soft brown eyes were wide. Her face had paled and it looked like she was holding her breath.
“Hannah.” I cupped her chin and brought her gaze back to me, but her eyes darted down the road.
“I have to go. Please, Brandon. I have to go.” She yanked away from me and jumped into her car. I stepped out of the way so she closed the door and looked down the street to see the same asshole sitting at the stop sign ahead.
“I’ll be by tomorrow.” I promised.
She looked behind her and pulled out of her space in into the street without looking back at me. I’d bet anything Carter hurt her. And fuck if I was gonna let that slide.