Make Me (KPD Motorcycle Patrol 4)

Her father’s eyes narrowed.

“Why?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “We know exactly why.”

“I don’t want her working there,” he argued.

I took a seat and stared at her father.

“How’s it going to look when we start having kids, and you’re not in the picture?” I asked honestly. “Your dreams of politics won’t look quite as good when you openly hate your daughter.”

The sad thing was, Judge St. James was good for this city. He was good for the police department and the fire department. He was good for the community.

He just wasn’t good for his daughter.

And I wanted to know why.

“Why do you hate your daughter so much?” I asked. “What’s she ever done to you to warrant your treatment of her?”

The Judge didn’t beat around the bush.

“My daughter is the cause of my wife’s death,” he pointed out.

“Your wife died of a heart condition that wasn’t related to her pregnancy or the birth of Royal,” I countered. “Keep trying.”

“Why would I tell you?” he asked.

I leaned back.

“Because I asked to know,” I said. “Royal’s never asked, has she?”

The Judge grinned. “No, she hasn’t.”

“Why not?” I wondered.

“Because Royal doesn’t want to know.” He shrugged. “And if she never asked, I wasn’t going to bother telling her.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.

“You’re not going to leave if I don’t tell you?” he guessed, looking resigned.

“No,” I said. “I’m not.”

He sighed and leaned back in his own chair, mimicking my posture.

“Royal is the reason that I had to stay here, in this city, and not move up in the world,” he said pointedly. “There’s no good way to say that she ruined my life. I’m just sour that she forced me to clip my wings before I was ready.” He paused. “Every time I look at her, I see the reason I’m not where I want to be.”

That was it.

There was nothing life-changing.

Nothing huge that really impacted his life in the negative.

Just a child that needed her father, and that father having to put his dream on hold.

“I’m marrying your daughter,” I said. “I’m asking her to marry me when I get home.”

The Judge looked intrigued for a moment.

“I looked into you…” he started, but I talked over him.

“When we get married, you’re not invited to the wedding,” I said. “You will still pay for it, though.”

“Oh?” He looked like he found me amusing.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “And you’ll do it happily.”

“Will I?” he asked. “Why?”

I stood up and pulled out an article that I’d found while doing some digging into The Judge’s past.

“I found some interesting reading when I started digging into you,” I said. “Your daughter might like to know some of this.”

His daughter was going to know it anyway. But St. James didn’t need to know that.

The man’s face went utterly blank as he read over the article.

“Selling your sperm got you through college until you met Royal’s mother,” I said. “You sold everything but your body, from what I hear. Plasma, sperm, hell, I’m not even sure you didn’t sell your body. But, the funny thing is, you were poor as a street rat.”

St. James’ jaw clenched to such a degree that I heard it groan.

“Royal was always under the impression that your money was your money, and that you were the one responsible for leaving her that trust fund.” I grinned. “But it wasn’t you, was it? It was her mother. Seeing as you didn’t have two pennies to rub together.”

“You can marry her.” St. James looked disgusted. “And I won’t come to the wedding.”

I stood up and headed to the door.

“If you see us in town, ignore us,” I said. “And my lawyer will be contacting you about the business. It’s my wedding present to Royal.”

With that, I left, already typing away a text message to a buddy of mine that could take care of the paperwork for the business.

It’d put me in a mountain of debt, I was sure, but I wanted it.

For her.

For my soon-to-be wife.

As long as she said yes, that was.

***

“Royal?”

Royal, who was coming out of the dispatch offices, looked up at me with a smile.

Then she hurried in my direction.

“Hey, do you want to go get something to eat?” she asked sweetly. “To celebrate your being released?”

I gave her a look.

She snickered.

“Undoubtedly, I’m guessing we’re going home?” she teased.

Yeah. We were going fucking home.

Five minutes later we arrived at my house—soon to belong to the both of us—and I was shutting off the bike.

Two minutes after that, I had Royal pressed up against the bedroom door with my hands down her pants.

A minute after that, we were both naked, and I was laying her down onto the bed.

Then there was no more talking.

Only fucking.

Lots and lots of fucking.

When we were done, and she was panting breathlessly on the bed, I looked down at her with satisfaction on my face.