“Then let’s keep it from the cops. I’ll call Quake Baker.”
The man had taken Emory under his protection. He ran a diner on the far side of town, a business legitimate, but I had no doubt he dabbled in less legal endeavors as president of a motorcycle club. I wasn’t going to ask about them, but I’d learned from Gray he’d taken care of the asshole who’d broken into Emory’s house. Quake was a good ally to have, especially with situations like this. He had the same thoughts as me and Gray—no one fucked with anyone’s woman.
“Good.”
“Want back in the ring?” he asked as we walked toward Wiley.
I glanced to Gray, grinned. My roiling anger was obvious, and there was one way to burn some of it off. With my fists, just as I wanted. Wiley would be good competition. “Definitely.”
14
HARPER
Reed: Do you like Thai food?
Me: Yes. Why?
Reed: I want to know what you like for when we go out.
Me: I never said yes.
Reed: Say yes.
Me: To Thai food?
Reed: To me.
Me: About what?
Reed: I told you before. Everything.
Me: I told you no to phone sex.
Reed: OK. How about texting sex?
Me: I have no idea how to do that.
Reed: What are you wearing?
Me: It’s midnight.
Reed: I didn’t ask what time it was.
Me: A T-shirt and underwear.
Reed: Underwear? Like boxers?
Me: Panties. Like lace.
Reed: Shit. Slip your hand inside those hot-as-fuck lace panties and play with your clit.
Me: I can’t do this.
Reed: What? Come? You came for me before.
Me: No, I can’t do texting sex.
Reed: Why not? It’s more fun than I thought. Touch yourself, princess.