Yes.
Did I think that giving him that piece of me would also be giving him everything else?
Hell yes.
This was my last defense against him.
If I give him that, then . . . I’m done for.
Sighing, I lift my mouth to his, initiating a kiss for the first time. He allows me to take control of the kiss, groaning when our tongues meet.
“So sweet,” he moans, lifting me up and pushing me back on the bed, then reclaiming my lips. Threading my fingers through his loose hair, I pull gently on the ends, urging him on. His lips trail down my neck, sucking on a spot, making my toes curl.
“Tracker,” I rasp.
He lifts his head and looks down at me. “We should stop.”
I lick my lips and stare him in the eye. Then I remember that I’m here for a reason. “Fuck,” I almost yell, sitting up. “Faye hasn’t left yet, has she? I’m the worst nanny ever.”
He chuckles, taking my arm and pulling me off the bed. I stand up and practically run to the door, Tracker’s laughter chasing behind me. When I enter the kitchen I see Clover sitting there with Anna.
“I’m so sorry!” I exclaim. Anna looks amused as hell.
She covers Clover’s ears with her hands. “Is he that quick? I was thinking he’d be another hour at least.”
“Anna,” Tracker frowns, coming to stand behind me. “Those are fighting words.”
She smirks. “I better get to work.”
Anna worked part-time at the zoo. She used to work at Knox’s Tavern, a popular local bar, but Arrow kept coming in and starting fights, so Reid Knox fired her. We all give her shit about that.
“Say hi to the tortoise for me,” I say, referring to Anna’s favorite animal.
“Will do,” she says, slapping my ass as she walks past me.
“Hey that’s my a—,” he stops himself, careful not to swear in front of Clover. “Ah, my bottom. Mine.”
She just smiles at him. “You wish.”
“I do,” he grumbles, walking to the fridge. “Want me to cook for you again, Lana?”
“No!” I almost yell, then soften my tone. “I mean, no, thanks. I want to cook for you instead.”
“Okay,” he beams, sitting down next to Clover and asking her what she wanted to do today, making me feel as though I’d just been played.
I fry some bacon with scrambled eggs and sautéed mushrooms. Clover has a little, calling it her second breakfast for the day.
“I can hang out with you guys for a few hours, then I have to go to work,” Tracker says after he helps clean up the kitchen.
“Sounds good, what do you want to do?”
“Ladies’ choice,” he says, looking to Clover. “What do you want to do today, princess?”
“I want to ride a motorcycle,” she announces, looking proud.
I glance at Tracker, amused. “Good luck with that.”
He looks thoughtful. “I think you should ask your dad that, Clover.”
She nods. “Okay. We could go to the movies.”
“What do you want to watch?”
“Something about princesses.”
Tracker sighs unhappily.
I grin, amused.
We get ready to take Clover to see a movie about a princess.
* * *
I look at my reflection in the mirror, turning to each side, taking in my outfit. I’m wearing tight white jeans, a white tank top, layers and layers of silver chains, and red pumps. I don’t know if I’ll fit in with what others will wear, but I don’t care. I feel good, and comfortable with my choice. Spraying a little perfume, I press together my red lips and touch up my hair. Black locks fall down my shoulders and back in waves. I leave on my glasses. Jumping when I hear a knock at the door, I rush to open it. Tracker stands there looking delicious. I lift my hand up to brush his stubbled cheek.
“You look . . . fuck, Lana,” he grits out, checking me out from head to toe. Taking my hand from his cheek, he lowers it to his groin. “Feel how hard I am. That’s how amazing you look. Fuck. I’m gonna have to beat the shit out of one of my brothers tonight, I know it.”
I blush, touching his hardness, then removing my hand. “You look good too, Tracker. Sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”
He groans and takes my mouth in a punishing kiss, his hands gripping my ass cheeks and squeezing. “Love this ass,” he growls as he pulls back. “In fact I’ve yet to find anything I don’t like about you, Lana.”
“There’s still time,” I reply shakily, his kiss leaving me breathless.
“Give me a second to calm down, then we’ll go,” he says, eyes on my chest. “Fuck. You can wear my leather jacket so you’re not cold.”
He takes off his jacket, leaving him in a black T-shirt.
“You smell good.”
“So do you,” he replies, pressing his nose against my neck. “So fuckin’ good.”
As he helps me into his jacket, I’m aware of the tension between us. His fingers brush my neck, and I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin. His touch is electric. I want him, badly. Who am I kidding? In my mind, I’m already his. If he breaks my heart . . . that’s a chance I’m going to have to take.
“Tracker,” I whisper, looking up at him. He’s tall, around six foot two, so I have to lift my chin.
“Yes,” he replies, just as soft.
“Tonight,” I say.