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What He Wants

What He Wants

By Tory Richards

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“Open the door.” I cringed at the harsh demand passing through my lips, and couldn’t blame her for slapping her hands onto her hips and refusing my request.

My gaze fell to the deep V that putting her hands on her hips had caused. Plenty of smooth, creamy flesh was revealed, but I wanted to see it all. My dick had a one-track mind when it came to Daisy and what he wanted, jerking strongly behind my zipper.

“Do you want to rephrase that?” she scowled.

F**k, I liked her fire. But I wasn’t about to turn all syrupy and say please. She should have known better. “Open the door, babe, or I’ll open it for you and I guarantee you won’t like how I go about it.”

She weighed my words, as if trying to decide if I’d follow up my threat. “Nice, Big John.” She reached up and turned the lock. “I told you to leave me alone. I don’t want you here.”

I yanked the door open and stepped inside. “I don’t care what you want.” My nostrils flared, taking in the enticing scent that trailed behind her as she moved away. I wanted to lick whatever the hell it was off her body. “You’re coming back to the club with me.”

She paused and turned back around to face me, disbelief on her face. “No. I’m not connected to you or the club in any way, so I’ll stay right here where I’m safe.”

I snorted. “Safe, babe? Do you know how easy I could have broken through that glass door? And I bet the back door to this place isn’t any better, unless you had it replaced when you moved in.” Her deflated expression revealed that she hadn’t. “Get dressed and pack some shit.”

She held her ground stubbornly. “Why? Because your club is on lockdown? That means nothing to me. You can’t come in here and tell me what to do. You’re nothing to me.”

Christ, that hurt. I forced myself not to move, not to reach out and just make her do what I wanted. I didn’t expect her to understand, our worlds were different. She was a civilian, lived by the rules and laws that society dictated. We did, too, in a way, but our rules and laws were dictated by the members of the MC. We voted on what worked for our club, we had each other’s backs and stood together as a team. We didn’t get the law involved in club trouble because we took care of shit on our own. It was the way most hardcore MC’s worked.

“You’re stubborn, woman,” I growled. “And I don’t have time for this shit.” I bent at the waist, caught her in the belly with my shoulder, and swept her off her feet. I heard her outraged humph as I continued to the back where I knew the stairs led to the second story.

“Put me down!” Daisy screamed, beating her little fists against my back as I easily carried her upstairs. “This is crazy, Big John! I’m not going with you and there’s nothing you can do about it!”

That’s what she thought. If I had to drag her ass back to the club the way she was dressed I would. I opened her door and plowed through the room, following the layout of her apartment until I reached her bedroom.

Put me down!” she demanded angrily, wiggling wildly against me.

I dropped her down onto her bed. She bounced a few times before coming to rest on her backside, robe parted and exposing a lot more of her tempting flesh. The sash was still around her waist, the material settling between her legs just enough to keep the sight of her sex from my eyes. In spite of that my mouth watered, visualizing what it would look like. Was it shaved bare, revealing how pink and plump it was? I had to get my mind back on the issue at hand.

“I hate you!” she hissed, breathing heavily.

“No, you don’t. You hate what I did to you.” We both knew that we were talking about the night of the Christmas party. “I did it for your own good.”
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