Throne of Scars (Lost Kings MC 20)

I will not let that woman make me cry.

Face done, I check all my angles, snap a few selfies, then start on my hair. I didn’t have room for my curling iron, so I do what I can with my round brush and the blow dryer I found under the bathroom sink.

There’s a soft knock from the hallway. I cock my head. Is it our door? I slip into the bathrobe and hurry to answer it.

Lilly’s on the other side, absolutely stunning in a deep blue sapphire velvet dress that clings to all of her generous curves. Jesus, I’d kill for her cleavage.

“Hey, Grinder and Z are out back, so I just wanted to check on you.” She holds up a bunch of shiny objects. “See if you needed to borrow anything since the rooms aren’t really stocked with lots of girly items.”

I focus on the hair straightener and curling wand she’s holding out to me.

“Oh my God. Thank you. Yes, I was just lamenting that I didn’t bring my curling iron.” I open the door wider. “Come in.”

“No, no. I have a few other stops to make.”

I reach for the hair tools. “Do you mind if I borrow both?”

“Not at all. Leave them in the drawer in the bathroom when you’re done, if you want. I’ll probably try to keep this room blocked off for just you guys.” Her nose wrinkles. “So you don’t have to worry about God knows what happening in your bed when you’re not here.”

“I hadn’t thought about that.” I tap my lip. “But now I won’t be able to stop thinking about it.”

She laughs softly. “See you in a bit.”

Feeling slightly better about the evening ahead, I return to the bathroom and plug in the curling wand.

While it’s heating up, I section off my hair. I work quickly, only wanting to add a few loose waves. The dress I’m planning to wear is dramatic enough. I pull a few sections away from my face, pinning them at the back of my head with a black and gold bow. Finally, I run the flat iron over a few wispy, wayward strands of hair framing my face.

“Dress time,” I mutter to myself. I slip into the slick black boy shorts I plan to wear under the dress, then tape my boobs into a special bra, so they’ll stay put. There’s nothing simple about the little black dress I chose. It’s a thick, shiny wet-look material. Almost like leather with a sheen of golden sparkle woven into the stretchy fabric. A classy-ish sort of slutty dress. Or what might be considered classy at a motorcycle clubhouse. A large ruffle frames the dramatic V of the dress and wraps around my shoulders. The skintight material hugs my hips and ends mid-thigh. It’s no more revealing than what Lilly was wearing, so it shouldn’t be too much. I step into a pair of black heels and stand in front of the mirror.

“Not bad,” I whisper, turning to the side. No baby bump yet. “What’cha doin’ in there, lil’ peanut?” I rub my hand over my stomach. “Hmm?”

I grab my phone, toss up a peace sign and snap a few selfies, making sure nothing too revealing is in the background. I add it to my Instagram with a “date night” caption.

The door beeps and pushes open.

Gray steps inside. His gaze lands on me and he stops.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, I stand there watching him take me in.

“Is this dress okay?” I glance down at the low V, noticing how much of my sternum is exposed. “It shows more than I thought.”

Gray’s still busy staring at my legs but his gaze slowly travels to my chest. One corner of his mouth slides up. “You are absolutely stunning.” He closes the door behind him.

I back away a few steps. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”

He frowns. “You could never embarrass me. I’m standing here thinking Karma got confused because there is no way I’ve done anything good enough in this life to deserve having you on my arm.”

The sweet affection tied up in his words slides over me like warm honey. “That’s not true.” I step closer and loop my arms around his neck. “You’re good to me.”

“You make it easy.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Thank you for coming with me. I know it wasn’t your first choice of weekend getaway.”

I won’t bother denying it, so I nod. “I’m just…anxious about who might be here or whatever,” I mumble the last part, losing my nerve.

“Hey.” He tightens his arm around my waist, jerking me closer to grab my attention. “If anyone—I don’t care who—says anything disrespectful to you, tell me right away.”

“Gray—”

“I’m serious. Tonight, I want to set the stage for how I expect you to be treated, so there’s no confusion. You’re my ol’ lady. Period. I won’t tolerate bullshit from anyone—male or female. So tell me.”