Page 46 of Dirty Salvation

The best offense was a better offense, as her father would say.

He was a better lawyer than he'd been a dad.

"You know, if you're here looking to get laid, you have a clubhouse full of whores eager to bend over for you with their asses in the air, Prez. Is that why you won’t give me my own room? I didn't realize my refuge came with a price. Just let me know when and where and I'll pay my debts if I must, but I don’t guarantee a porn star performance like your bitches give you, I’m not a good actress."

Voice shaking but devoid of emotion, she knew this game well.Just open your legs, bitch, and I’ll bring you a sandwich later, you want to eat don’t you, just open ‘em, ya dig?That’s the way, bitch, ya know how to do it.

At least now she could figure Rider’s motives for bringing her back to his club. Help came with terms and conditions and no one ever read those.

Please. Not Rider.

Not him. Anyone but him.

When she glanced at him finally, the flare of thunder took her back, literally back a step, her legs connecting with a low bench.

He took more stomped steps towards her. His hips rolling in a menacing gait, smooth enough to give her a mini cardiac arrest.

Damn. Mister president was pissed. The blueness of his eyes blazing.

“Did you just fuckin’ say that to me?" he gritted. "To fuckin’me, Zara? God fuckin’ dammit, you are stubborn and fuckin’ stupid as you are pretty if that’s what you think.”

Deathly quiet tone emitted from that massive chest. Never moving a muscle, he was statue still now, gauging her from eyes that bore not just coldness but from within she could see disappointment and that stung more than anything, worse, she felt shame and the chill rolling off him.

Zara shivered, instantly regretting every word.

Accustomed to fighting for her life, having her body taken against her will, she only had words to use as weapons, she could only fight with the venom on her tongue.

Zara grieved saying them to Rider. After everything he’d done for her, he didn’t deserve her lashing.

She sighed.

She supposed she could blame it on temporary insanity, it wouldn’t be far wrong. Her head went in so many different directions all the time, it was a wonder she had an intelligent thought at all.

He prowled, dragging her thoughts from the madness to the present, Zara's eyes widened expecting the worse and getting...nothing. He stopped a foot away, arms folded over the great span of his chest.

He really was so astonishingly big all over.

She admired his size, intimidating, but there was something darker about it.

Calming.

He'd never physically harm her, she discerned.

No matter how bitchy she got, whatever nasty words she spat at him, and for a girl like Zara, it was safety.

Her contemplation must have shown on her face; she was horrible at hiding emotions. It came with the blonde hair and pale complexion, everything was there to read.

Zara’s brows furrowed in the middle. Insanity was a real thing, she surmised.

The biker and her own mind were making her fucking crazy.

“Pickin’ a fight with me ain’t gonna help any, you’ll still be hidin’. So, here’s what’s gonna happen, baby.”

Again, with the baby. Did he even realize what it implied?

He’d called her baby when she’d slept with him. It didn't help that she had first-hand experience on the way Rider had sex or how he sounded when her lips closed around his dick. It made seeing him, reliving that night, difficult. She'd never given anyone oral pleasure until him. He'd chuckled and instructed her on what to do, then cursed the air blue when she appeared to be doing it exactly how he liked. Afterward, he'd told ZaraYou're the fucking best, baby...now lemme feel your lips again.

It was a dark depressing truth that he’d been her first but not the last. She’d only enjoyed it the once, however. So, there was that.