Always Someone’s Monster (Battle Crows MC 1)

My lips twitched as I realized what I’d done, and what kind of reaction I’d gotten out of him.

So, instead of turning and facing him as I scooted into the small gap that was there for me to sit in the chair, I faced away from him and rubbed my ass against his arm.

I heard him inhale deeply and knew what I had to do.

“Sorry,” I said. “How the hell did you get out, Shine?”

“I just walk, and those bitches move,” Shine said distractedly as he went back to talking to Boston about something to do with a lawn care business.

I planted my ass on my chair and then ‘accidentally’ dropped my purse.

Bending forward, I tried in vain to reach the purse that’d fallen between my legs, knowing either I would have to lean down and get it, or Haggard would have to get it for me.

One would have him between my legs, and the other would have my face practically plastered to his lap.

Both worked for me.

He swallowed hard, and I knew he’d realized the situation we were in would put us in a ‘precarious’ position either way it went.

“Oh, poo,” I grumbled. “I’ll just…”

I started to bend over to retrieve it, my hand going to his thigh, but he stopped me with a gruff, “I got it.”

It took everything I had not to allow the smile to overtake my face.

Instead of smiling, I bit my lip and tried to count to ten as he leaned over and tried to reach the purse without doing much bending.

Let me tell you something.

It didn’t work.

I kicked the purse just a little bit farther under the table because I knew he was about to reach for it.

He didn’t disappoint.

He was forced to bend farther. And farther. And farther.

Eventually he cursed and went all the way down, had practically laid himself in my lap to get it, and I felt my heart rate spike through the roof.

“Might’ve been easier to just leave it down there,” Shine observed from his position across the table.

“I would say yes, but my head hurts pretty bad. I need some headache medicine or I’m going to perish,” I teased lightly.

Shine rolled his eyes and went back to talking to Boston about buying a new mower that you could stand on instead of sit on.

It was at this point that Haggard came back up with my purse, bringing it up between my thighs, and dragging it along all kinds of sensitive areas as he did.

The back of his hand brushed the inside of my thigh, too, causing my voice to escape me in a small squeak.

I turned to look at Haggard just as he righted himself, and I knew he was aware of where he’d touched me.

My nipples pebbled in reaction to his stare, and I could see his eyes calculating.

Haggard was a smart man.

Even worse, he was used to girls throwing themselves at him.

I…

“What the fuck was that?”

I blinked at the sharpness to a woman’s voice that sounded very familiar.

I looked up to find Trista standing behind Boston’s chair.

Oh, boy.

CHAPTER 11

This ‘kill them with kindness’ thing is taking longer than I expected.

-Sophia to Clem

SOPHIA

“What was what?” Boston asked, turning and looking at his mother with confusion. “What are you doing here?”

And, as if it wasn’t bad enough to have Trista there, the person with her only added fuel to the already blazing fire.

Blakely.

The woman that was well and truly good at making my day fuckin’ awful.

And the reason I had a damn headache to begin with.

I reached into my purse and extracted the headache medicine that I carried around with me at all times—having headaches regularly sucked.

“That thing with your dad practically lying in Sophia’s lap,” Trista asked suspiciously.

Shine and Boston both turned to look at me.

I held up the purse that was in my lap.

“I can’t back my chair up,” I pointed out, lying through my pretty white teeth. “And there are two very large men on either side of me. I needed my purse so I could get some meds. I had a bad day at work.”

My glare landed on Blakely, who smiled obnoxiously.

God, I couldn’t freakin’ stand her.

In fact, if I could choose one person to no longer be on this planet anymore, it’d be her.

Which was bad, because I could’ve chosen a serial killer or something, yet I’d choose her.

Because she was the one person who could make me absolutely hate living.

Which was impressive because I usually had a pretty strong constitution.

But there was just something about her…

“Oh,” Trista hesitated, as if my explanation now made perfect sense to her.

Blakeley, on the other hand, wasn’t buying it.

She was narrowing her eyes, and I knew that the moment they left, they’d be staring over here like hawks to see if they could read anything out of what I did or didn’t do around my best friend’s dad.