Page 117 of Dirty Salvation
Two and two and his Zara was adding it up to a fat one fuckingguiltyfifty.
Rider watched her eyes narrow, her lips tighten, he could practically see the color drain to white.
Without a word, she turned on her heel, hurrying back from where she'd come from.
Fucks sake.Really? Jealous? He covered the floor with easy-long strides, this was one conversation she was not running her cute butt from.
******
Tits in his face. Some woman had tits in Rider’s face! Zara saw red until her short nails dug into her palms. Fury and jealousy so slick it greased her stomach sloshing like a rain storm. She banged the bedroom door hard behind her and stood in the middle of the floor fuming.
Tits inhisface! All heaving and wanting like lusting mammary orbs! Oh, now she wanted to punch someone and she suspected it would be Rider who didn’t seem bothered some woman had her business up against him.
In her experience, it was noticeable to her Rider wasn't one of those men who needed a basic inducement to his ego to favor him towards anything. Rider was straight talking, if you wanted something from him it was just best to come out and ask. Over the weeks, from her standpoint of observer as she blended into the paintwork and the bricks of every wall, becoming one with the silence so as not to call much attention to herself she amassed the lay of her temporary haven, it afforded Zara the front row seat to some of the tricks the groupies used to call on Rider's focus. They'd all crashed and burned because a man like Rider didn't need his ego stroked, he was not lacking in any self-confidence, if anything the president had too much confidence in her opinion, with an ego the size of a football field and some left over for snowy days.
The cocky man knew what effect he had on her with every sly wink he sent her way.
Cocksure.
Still utterly gorgeous. And heknewit. But never played to it with anyone but her as far as she knew. It was as though Rider knew what aesthetics he was playing with and couldn't give a fuck. He carried himself tall, fearless, with a grace of bold self-assurance in every hard stomp of his feet. But she'd never caught a whisper of him messing with anyone else.
Still, she seethed with new jealousy.
She wondered why then the groupies, ranging in age from mid-twenties to their early forties as far as she could gauge, used every lame trick of getting him to notice them.
Conversations worked fine.Hi. How are ya? Instead of boobs out to there and skirts so short it left nothing to the imagination what they had eaten for breakfast that day.
But then, she was jealous of any boobs bigger than a dollar coin since she barely had any of her own, so the groupies could have that, she’d probably poke her own breasts out if they were nice and big, too.
She glared down at her two flat eggs.Thanks for that, mom.
She’d been in a mood all day after the shit she’d been forced to listen to. And now this.
Then so excited, so relieved with her clean bill of health that she couldn’t wait a second longer for Rider to get back from the airport, she’d scrubbed their room until it sparkled, the bedding was fresh, she’d showered and changed clothes, all in anticipation of his return because she was going to pounce. Ugh. stupid woman with her tits in his face and Rider let her!
He strode into his room as though he hadn’t just this second had a woman grinding against his crotch. He even smiled that rogue smile, a stretch of gorgeous lips behind his beard.
Zara glared folding her arms.
"What were you doin’ runnin’ off like that? You see your man with a woman and you take off like your ass is on fire. Don't like that, Icy." Rider's smile had dropped when he approached. He'd brought the scent of outside with him, she caught the smell as he grew nearer standing tall, his neck arched down so he could look at her.
She avoided his eyes. Bristling.
"I see my old lady with a guy, you think I'm gonna storm off, Zara? No. I'm gonna beat ten levels of Hell outer him for putting hands on what's mine." He said.
Zara, feeling her temper boil into her furious eyes was about to erupt for the first time in years when he caught her around the waist and crushed her to him.
Her insides melted.
Air popped out of her mouth at the sudden new position, his hands cradled her hips, his head came down until he was almost touching her nose with his.
That vivid blueness trained on her. So beautiful she let go of some of her anger.
"My girl got good news, and I wanted to celebrate with her. Not watch her accusin’ eyes all over a situation that was less than nothin’."
"It was nothing?" she asked suspiciously.
"Yeah. Nothin’. Shandi is nothin’ to me and I told her."
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