Turning my hand over, she runs her fingers over my busted middle knuckle. “Zella was always restless. Minton bowed to her family, but she wanted to leave. Except Uncle Clive would never let her go. Zella dulled her restless spirit with booze and drugs and fucking. I was happy to work at the family bar and hang out with my mom and Zella. I don’t need much. Just my people and a sense of belonging. Zella craved more, but she just ended up OD’ing in the rec room at our house.”
Though I wait for tears, Monroe only sighs softly. “I still remember the look on her face when I found her. She seemed so startled. Her eyes were wide open, and her mouth parted. She had vomit around her lips and down her shirt. I knew she was dead before I even got close. Her body was too stiff and awkward looking.”
“I’m sorry,” I say when she gets quiet.
Monroe looks at me and holds my gaze. “In the movies, people scream and freak out when they find someone dead. But I just stood there and felt how different the world was without Zella in it. She wasn’t a great person, but she made me laugh. When I first moved in, she would share her donuts with me and say how I would never be alone. Zella and my mom never missed any of my games, even though my cousin didn’t like sports. So, yeah, she was a rich girl who threw her life away by getting high. But she was also a sweet friend and my family.”
Monroe tightens her grip on my hand. “Yet, as I stood there looking at her blank eyes staring at me, I felt dread over what would happen next. Not the part where I grieved her. More about how Uncle Clive would react. He’s not a man accustomed to the world taking anything from him. I knew he would want someone to blame. The guy passed out with Zella that night was dead meat. I had no doubt he would disappear for good. Other people might need to die, too. But I also worried about Mom and me. Somehow, I sensed Zella’s death would be the end of us.”
“And he married off your mom?”
Eyes wary now, Monroe shuts down rather than sharing more. I decide to change the subject to offer her a chance to regain her earlier calm.
“Did you always want to be blonde?”
“No, but I thought I wouldn’t be so easy to spot with blonde hair. Uncle Clive might not care that I ran off, but I doubt it,” Monroe says and then lowers her gaze before continuing, “I took some of his cash to pay for my trip. Not a bunch, but I took some,” she mumbles, clearly feeling guilty for robbing her criminal uncle.
“Do you like having blonde hair?”
Monroe meets my gaze and nearly whispers, “I resemble my mom too much. Looking in the mirror hurts my heart.”
Sensing her mood going south, I change the subject again. “Your accent gave away how you were from the Dakotas. It’s faint, but I hear it occasionally. That’s why I watch ‘Fargo’ as a porno now.”
Monroe slugs me in the arm with enough force to make my dick hard. The fire in her eyes is such a turn-on. Yeah, I’m aware of how my thing for strong women is, no doubt, inspired by my tough mother. But the heart wants what it wants, and mine beats faster when Monroe’s temper awakens.
“Don’t be sensitive about your accent,” I tease while wrapping my arms around her shoulders. “Someone has to live in that shithole up north. Why not you?”
“I want to razz you, but I can’t think of anything.”
“I am truly a nearly perfect specimen.”
“Only nearly? Share those flaws with me, so I’ll have ammunition.”
“I’m too sexy. Like I turn myself on every time I pass a reflective surface. It’s very distracting.”
“I really like you,” she says, blushing when she hears the directness behind her words. “I’ve never gotten hung up over a man. It’s a little unnerving.”
Hugging her to me, I nuzzle her forehead as she studies me. “I’ve had so many girlfriends. Super slut stud right here,” I say, feeling her nails digging into my chest in protest. “But, yeah, I admit that I’ve never gotten worked up over them. Only you, sugar slit.”
“Umm, no.”
“Sweet lips?”
“These?” she asks, pursing her mouth. “Or the ones below?”
“Why not both?”
Monroe smiles. “I’m getting overly attached to you. I think we ought to play separately for the next hour to keep me focused.”
“No,” I say, attaching her to my body. “You shall become another one of my extremities. Like an extra set of arms and an additional mouth hole.”
When she attempts to free herself, our wrestling match nearly takes her to the ground. Monroe laughs as she finally scrambles away.
“Look at this freaking wise guy over here,” she says while I chase after her.
One of the employees looks ready to tell us to stop running but then probably remembers he barely makes more than minimum wage. Is that really enough money to challenge a big, tattooed man like myself?
Monroe ends up outside, where she notices the bumper cars. I know immediately how she’ll want to go on them. Technically, the course is closed during slow periods, but I slide that earlier employee a hundred to let us ride around.
As soon as Monroe slams her car into mine and lets out a fiendish laugh, I know I’ve found my honey. Any woman this excited to smash into shit will fit perfectly in my world.
MONROE
Conor is too sexy to be this silly, and he’s far too silly and sexy to be scary. Yet, somehow, he’s supposed to take over the Executioners Motorcycle Club. I don’t get it. Earlier, I felt how dangerous he was, but I’ve fallen harder since then.
After we crash our bumper cars together—and occasionally race—Conor wants to use up the rest of his tokens. Unfortunately, the big spender bought more than we’ll ever need. Rather than toss the tokens, he offers them to a mom struggling with her kids in the parking lot. The horny look she gives him nearly inspires me to sucker punch the twat. He’s mine!
“She wanted to make her sixth kid with me,” Conor murmurs after we leave the woman with her free tokens and stand at his Harley. His lips nibble at my ear. “She senses my balls are filled with fertile prowess.”
“Are you trying to make me horny?” I whisper as my lips brush against his. “Because this kind of sweet-talk isn’t doing it.”
Conor chuckles. “The key to successful flirting is to throw everything at the wall and hope something sticks.”
Kissing me, Conor gives my ass a light squeeze. My hands are more interested in exploring his chest. We fondle each other for a few minutes while the world ignores our horniness.
My vibrating phone is easy to ignore. Then, Conor’s starts ringing, too. I prefer to focus on his tongue rather than bad news. Still kissing me, he lifts his phone beside my head enough for him to glance at the text. Our fun ends when he pries his lips free, complete with a popping sound.
“Better check your phone,” he says despite hiding his face in my hair and feeling up my butt. “Our attention is in high demand.”
Looking at the message from Topanga, I frown at the wording. “I knew Lowell made handsome fellas, but he makes beautiful belles, too!”
My heart drops into my stomach. What the fuck is she saying? I show Conor the text. He leans over and kisses me softly.