Page 64 of Ruthless Obsession

“Some men struggle with connection,” I say.

“So he’s the same way with you and you just deal with it?” she inquires.

I won’t go into detail. She seems a little fragile.

“He kisses me.”

The big brooding man loves to kiss me and cuddle. And loves eating my pussy. I instinctively squeeze my legs together at the thought of how good that man eats my pussy.

Jennifer’s eyes briefly fall on my thighs then back to my eyes.

“So you deal with his short comings instead of pushing him to give more of himself.”

She shakes her head. “That’s where I went wrong.”

I meet her gaze. “I’m sure there are some good bikers here who’d love to make you their OL’ Lady.”

What a lie I told. She gives off creepy vibes like she might stalk the next guy.

I grab her arm. “Listen, you’re beautiful. Figure out which guy you have your eye on, and I can give advice on how to become more than…”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Jennifer, I would.”

She grins from ear to ear this time. “Thanks. I’ll get back to you.”

Jennifer darts off to the game room.

“That bitch is crazy. I know for a fact she’s obsessed with Ruthless,” Karla mutters, wiping down the bar with a white cloth.

I shoot her a glare. “And you’re not? Your lip was trembling when you found out I was his OL’ Lady.”

“So what if I wanted to be his OL’ Lady?” she snaps.

“Almost every club fox and club slut wanted him.”

“Right. You all fell for the tortured soul, thinking you could fix him.” I shake my head. “But he doesn’t need fixing—he needed someone who’d ride with him,” I reply shaking my head.

Karla twists her lips, and stalks off to the other end of the bar to help a customer.

Fifteen minutes pass before I feel someone take the seat to my right. A man with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes flashes a charming smile.

“Yellow looks good on you,” he says.

“Thanks.” I grin.

“Wanna dance after you finish eating?” he offers. His skin’s tanned like he works outside. He’s wearing a clean black tee with a pro team logo, crisp jeans, and black biker boots. Does he ride a motorcycle?

“No, I’m just catching up on game highlights. White Sox are playing tonight,” I reply, taking a bite of my burger.

“I hear you,” he says.

“Have you been here long?” I ask because if he has and knows I’m with Ruthless, this guy has a death wish.

“I just arrived with my buddy Cato.” He stretches his hand out for mine. “My names Darran.”

I place my hand in his. “I’m Sophie.”