“No,” I say quickly. “I just don’t want you to go out there and punch his face in.”
“The things I do for you,” he says, capturing my lips in a quick, punishing kiss. “You want to go back out? I’d rather just fuck you, because if I go back out there you know what’s going to happen.”
I slide my dress down, and it falls to the floor. “Is this answer enough?”
He licks his bottom lip. “So many things I want to do with you. Hmmmmm.”
I shiver at the husky tone of his voice. “Where shall we start?”
“At the top,” he says, staring at my mouth. “Then we will work our way to the bottom.” He stares at my lace panties. “I’m suddenly feeling a little hungry.”
I swallow.
“Then I’m going to bend you over and fuck you until you pass out.”
How I love his dirty mouth.
“So are you going to just talk or are you going to fuck me?” I taunt, feeling bold.
“Baby.” He grins. “You should know better.”
In a flash, he has me on the bed, panties down, face buried.
Every woman needs a Tracker.
* * *
“What the hell is this?” I growl two days later, slamming the magazine down on the table.
Tracker glances at it innocently and sips his coffee. “A gossip magazine.”
“It says Quinn Rhodes got beaten up outside his apartment. They suspect a random act of violence, since nothing was stolen.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read.”
I point. “There’s a picture of him with a black eye.”
“Lana, are you going somewhere with this?” he asks, then takes another sip.
I growl in frustration. “Did you or did you not beat the shit out him?”
“I can honestly say that I didn’t. Babe, I told you I wouldn’t.”
My eyes narrow. “Did you get someone else to?”
“I can’t talk about club business,” he says with a serious expression on his face.
I throw my hands up in the air. “You’re unbelievable, Tracker.”
He slides his mug away and pulls me down to sit on his lap. “And you’re unbelievably beautiful.”
He kisses my neck.
I pinch his biceps.
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you, and you reacted just how I suspected. You get angry when I don’t open up and keep things to myself, but then you don’t listen to what I tell you. I said I didn’t want you to touch him, Tracker.”
He stills. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I couldn’t just let him get away with hurting you. Lana, he doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you, okay? He knew he deserved what he got. We went easy on him. I’ll try to be good when you ask something of me like this, but fuck! How can I sit back and do nothing when someone who hurt the woman I love is right in front of me?”
“Well, crap.” I deflate, my anger lessening. “Just listen to my wishes next time, Tracker. Or don’t blame me when I don’t want to tell you everything.”
“Okay,” he says instantly, kissing my lips.
“I really dislike you right now,” I say, trying not to melt into him but failing.
“Can you dislike me later? You have class soon and I have to get to Rift.”
Anna walks in, Arrow next to her. “Lana, do you want to get something to eat before you start class?”
I nod. “Sushi?”
She beams. “And this is why you’re my best friend.”
I kiss Tracker. “I’ll see you later.”
“Let Blade drive the two of you,” he suggests, glancing at Arrow, who nods.
Anna glances at me. “We don’t need Blade. We’re fine.”
“We weren’t asking,” Arrow says, heading to the fridge.
“Fine,” I say, not wanting to be late. “Blade can take us. Come on, Anna.”
She says ’bye to her man, and then asks Blade to drop us off at the Japanese place near my school.
We order, then Anna starts in on the questions. “Quinn Rhodes is your dad? Why did you never say anything?”
“I never told anyone,” I admit. “Mom told me not to. We didn’t want people to know, for the media to find me, et cetera. Plus I was embarrassed, to be honest. My dad was famous and we could hardly make ends meet.”
“You had no reason to be embarrassed,” she growls. “He’s the bastard; you guys did nothing wrong.”
“Does the whole club know now?” I grumble, crumpling a napkin in my hand. “He’s more of a sperm donor. Yes, I know he’s my father, but he’s never been in my life. He didn’t even recognize me when he saw me. I don’t know if he just doesn’t care or what.”
Anna’s face hardens. “Your dad is a famous, rich musician, and you and your mom struggled to make ends meet your whole lives? I remember when you had to waitress to help pay the bills. What an asshole. I’m glad he got his face smashed in.”
“So bloodthirsty,” I quip.
She flashes me a sheepish smile. “I spend all my time with Arrow, what do you expect?”
I laugh at that. “Rubbing off on you, is he?”
“Why does that sound dirty?”
“Because you’re dirty,” I retort.
“So are you,” she says, smirking. “Like we can’t hear your screams echoing through the clubhouse.”