No. No, no, no. I did not just do that! I did not just have sex in the back of my dad’s ice cream truck with Liam freaking Murphy!

 

My head is spinning with regrets as I try to trace back the point in our conversations where I thought it would be okay to give myself over to a guy who is clearly as deranged as he is dangerous.

 

And, I mean, that’s not to say it wasn’t good... Oh, my goodness was that good. I’ve needed a great, head over heels screwing for a while now. The last time was with my ex, and even that wasn’t exactly spectacular. After our first two or three times doing it, it was just routine. Me on top, him on the bottom, neither of us calling out the other’s name or holding on for support. You could call it good old vanilla ice cream.

 

Sex with Liam, however, was like mocha cream ice cream with a dash of sprinkles on top. He knew what he was doing, and he made that very clear to me. The burning sensation between my legs where his package and thighs brushed harsh up against my skin could give him a reference or two if it could talk.

 

And though I am pretty pissed about my little tryst back there and letting him have it on our first day of meeting, there is that small part of me that hopes I was just as surprisingly good. I’m not that experienced, nor am I that brave (hence all that vanilla screwing around I let my ex get away with…), but seeing that cock laid out for me was like putting the biggest temptation of all in front of me and telling me to not go for it. I had to have it. His salty, rich skin’s taste lingers in my mouth, reminding me of just how bold he made me feel in those moments.

 

I could go back for more. I really could. And by the way he’s staring at me with those green diamond eyes that flicker in the moonlight makes me think he’d be up for the challenge. That body standing before me was made for something other than just staring down at me. His muscles were machines, chiseled and sharp. The black ink covering their lines looked like ripples of veins. They traced up his neck and behind his head as vines on an older home. His hands are set down toward my sides as he breaks free from our embrace for air, and I wonder just how much damage they could do to someone’s body.

 

My eyes get heavy for the first time all night. I’m exhausted. I’ve always been one of those people who need to sleep for hours after sex to recharge my batteries. But it wasn’t like there were many places to lay down and cuddle in the back of an ice cream truck. And I seriously doubt that Liam Murphy is a man appreciative of cuddling. It was actually shocking to me that he is firm in his place. He hasn’t run for the hills yet. Who knows? Maybe there is more to him than I thought.

 

Still, I let out a dramatic yawn. My arms lift up and over my head, my naked breasts pulling upwards with the motion. Somehow, I’ve completely forgotten that he’s stripped me down like this… and furthermore, that he has a bird's eye view of every inch of my freckled, imperfect body. My narrow, curving hips, my giraffe-like neck, the way my hands seem to be even smaller than the rest of me -- I could do without him seeing this. My cheeks turn bright pink, and I can feel the splotches of embarrassment pop up around my neck and chest. Great. Now I actually do have to cover myself.

 

I reach down and grab a piece of clothing that has fallen over the side of the refrigerator. The smokey smell of his shirt fills my nostrils as I use it to wrap around my chest and hips. My hand dips down towards my lady parts, covering them demurely with the palm of my hand. The whole area is still warm and steamy, unlike dry Las Vegas. Liam reaches out and pulls my hands from the grasp of the shirt. He smiles as he says, “Whoa! Whoa! That’s my shirt, Alana. While you smell like a damn flower in June, I’d rather I not smell like your pussy all night long.”

 

My lip curls up slyly. I’d love if he could smell like me. I’m not one to mark my territory, but if I could claim him like that for my own selfish usages, I would. A guy like Liam could come in handy when a girl’s got needs she has to be fulfilled. I toss the shirt back his way and use my foot to fish at the pile of clothes on the ground for my tank top and bra. To my disappointment, Liam gets dressed too.

 

With my back turned, still not comfortable showing all of me to him, I ask, “What’s the clock say? I really want to be home or at least parked by about ten-thirty. I’ve got an exam in the morning that I really can’t miss or be tired for.”

 

“Yeah,” I hear him say as he slumps down in the driver’s seat up front. “That’s not going to happen tonight, Alana. We’ve still got business to do.” The sound of the keys jingle against one another and then turn with a crank. The old engine turns on before I can even protest. Liam has taken over once again.

 

With my pants still around my hips, I run towards the front and get in the passenger seat. He nods in my direction, still smiling as always, as I shout, “What the hell? Where are we going? What business do you possibly have to do this late at night? And why do I have to go with you in my dad’s ice cream truck?”

 

“I told you. It’s our business. You’re working for me now, and whenever I bring in a contractor, I have to get the okay approval from the guys. That’s how the club works. Plus, the guys have to get to know you, so they know how to protect you.”

 

Oh damn. Protection. I didn’t even think about that aspect. Here I was so focused on the money that I had completely forgotten about that whole stolen diamonds in the back of my truck thing. No doubt there were some bad dudes out there worked up over Liam robbing them blind. Was I really the best cover for keeping Liam out of the spotlight and making his sales under the radar? Ice cream trucks and motorcycle robberies really don’t go together, and I can only imagine the headlines that will pop up if we are found out and taken down by some mafia, criminal ring.

 

I shut up instead of fighting it. That protection was probably the only end of this bargain that I could really get behind. The money is nice and all. Hell, it was amazing. My dad needs it more than anything in this world if I’m going to get him the best care possible, but I know that it would be all for nothing if I don’t come out of this alive. Life first. Money second - that’s my new motto.

 

But what would it be like to walk into a room with guys like the ones I met earlier today? I could tell that those bastards weren’t like Liam. Something was going on there. A girl like me who prides herself on observing others knew when there was hidden drama going down, and there was some shady stuff happening under or near Liam’s nose. Maybe walking into this meeting was just as risky as it was storming out to my truck in The Emerald Pub’s parking lot demanding my form of revenge.

 

I gulp as I turn to Liam and ask seriously, “What do I have do? Do I need to say a secret passcode or something? I don’t know how this works.”

 

He doesn’t take his eyes off of the road as he licks the top of his lip for a second before responding, “You do nothing. You say nothing. Guys like this don’t exactly appreciate girls coming in and running some part of the show. If you were your dad, this wouldn’t be a problem. But they’re going to take issue with you.”

 

I can’t hold it back. I blurt out, “So basically, you’re saying that I’m basically screwed. This is how I am going to end up dead tonight?”

 

Liam turns his head and stares me down. He’s trying to feel out if I’m serious or not. Unfortunately, I am. Being with him is terrifying. Walking into his clubhouse or whatever was an utter nightmare come true. If I am being driven to my execution, I at least want a heads up.

 

The tone of his voice completely changes from that satisfied, self-pleased Liam to something I haven’t heard before. Maybe concern? “Listen, Alana. You already know too much and have seen too much. But I swear to you that I am not going to let anything hurt you while you’re working for me. As long as you shut your mouth and just let me do the talking for you, there’s no reason why you’re not getting home for at least a few hours of sleep before your paper tomorrow.”

 

I sit back in the seat, my eyes closed as we pull back onto the freeway. “It’s a test,” I remind him. “I have a test tomorrow.”

 

“Good. Even more reason for you to just shut up and let me take over. We’re going to be there in a few so I’d appreciate the silence.” He then turns on the radio as I try not to laugh. Some old rock song off an oldies station blasts rhythmic guitar the rest of the ride over. We pass through factories and run-down hotels. It’s the old part of Vegas tourists never see. My dad picks up a lot of his supplies in this district. He never wants me to come with, and looking around at the bums picking at the trash and the few men walking up and down the streets without purpose, I can tell why. It wasn’t safe for anyone to be in these parts, let alone a girl like me.

 

As Liam slows down, I start to see more and more people gathered around one of the oldest buildings, a sandblasted white, three-story building. There are a few lights on in the windows with an outline of men standing or posing with their shadows. They hold bottles and boxes. Some smoke out of the open glass. None seem to pay any attention until Liam pulls in the truck towards the parking lot tucked behind a large black fence. A few rows of motorcycles appear huddled in the back, and he puts the car in park directly in the center.

 

The few men lingering outside instantly walk towards us with unseen objects in their hands -- maybe baseball bats or switchblades. In the dark, it’s hard to see anything but their scrunched up, curious faces and their heaving shoulders hunched over as they lurk towards us. I sink down in my seat, trying to keep my face out of view, praying that this would be over faster than a bullet. Liam nudges me out of my place and tilts his head before opening the door and shouting loudly towards the small crowd, “Yo! It’s me. I’ve got a guest here. Let her pass.”

 

“Boss?” One of the guys asks as he places a hand on his forehead to see over the few spotlights of parking lights. “Is that you? What the fuck are you doing driving around an ice cream truck with some bitch? We would have killed you!”

 

“Not if you wanted some ice cream.” Liam ducks his head back into the truck and smiles at me before screaming out again, “Come get some!” The men look back and forth at one another before shrugging their shoulders and running excitedly towards the back of the truck. Liam is already there opening the shop. I hear the fridge open as he tosses down some of the pre-made snacks I’ve got wrapped up.

 

The men grumble to themselves in their excited ways, some trade with the others for the better treats. The rest just laugh and shake their heads. This was really not what I was expecting, but my dad did always say that ice cream makes the biggest man the littlest child. I could certainly prove that theory tonight.

 

More men come walking curiously out of the building with their half-drunk beer bottles and their weapons in hands. One by one, they line up for their snack, each taking a turn to shake hands with Liam while I am frozen in the front seat too afraid to move or say anything. What really could be said at a time like this? If they were happy, it meant fewer chances for me getting killed.

 

The last guy is a burly man. He looks to be twice the age of Liam, but I can tell by the way he tips his head towards him that there’s some mutual admiration going on. He lowers his voice as he says to Liam, “Hey, boss. The room’s ready for you. Top guys there only. I don’t think anyone saw them coming in together. The ice cream is one damn good distraction.” He then looks up towards me peeking back at him through the rearview mirror. “Who the fuck is she?”

 

Liam comes round front towards the driver’s side and slips out the door, opening mine along the way. I have no choice but to unbuckle my seatbelt and join him outside. “Jason, this is Alana. She owns this truck, and she’s going to be doing some business for us.” There’s a long, deafening pause where I can feel some sort of horrible tension build between the two. The older man’s brown eyes fire up like coal shooting flames. They dart between Liam and me as if he was missing something more important.

 

Finally, he breaks, “Get her in fast before the rest of these assholes start asking questions.” Already, I can feel at least twenty eyes on me as Liam quickly locks the door and then presses his large palm to the small of my back. He urges me forward, leading from behind. I try not to look at anything but the black tar gravel underneath me, and the occasional boot I almost run into. Liam and Jason talk in hushed whispers so low that I can’t even make it out. All I know is that I am definitely not wanted here.

 

The doors open to the building and I take a deep breath. All I can do now is pray that I see my dad’s ice cream truck again.