“You’re thirty-seven?” she asks in astonishment.
“Yeah, Sweetness, I am,” I murmur. “What of it?”
“Sixteen,” she whispers.
“Sixteen what,” I ask.
“You're sixteen years older than me.” She seems to have zoned out as she answers.
Sighing, I lay on the bed next to her and draw her into my arms. Cupping her cheek, I make sure her attention is on me for this next part. “I know I’m older than you. Age is nothing but a number as long as you’re over the age of eighteen. So, I could care less if you’re fuckin’ two years or sixteen years younger,” I say. Leaning forward, planning on kissing her, I’m stopped by her placing a hand over her mouth. “What the hell, baby?”
“I’m not about to let you kiss me with the taste of puke still in my mouth,” she says behind her hand.
Shit, I should have thought about that. Then again, I wasn’t worried about it in the least. “I’ll let you up in a minute to get the taste out of your mouth, Sweetness. I just want to make sure you understand what I’ve said about where you and I are concerned. We’re happening and all the bullshit that’s happened already is gonna stay behind us,” I say.
Victoria seems to search my face for a hint of a lie before finally nodding her head. “Okay, Tracker, but one fuck up and I’m gone. I won’t be made a fool of,” she says sternly as she removes her hand from her mouth to point at my chest.
“Vi, if anything, I’d be making a fool of myself, and that shit ain’t happenin’. Now go brush your teeth while I go figure out breakfast. Then after we can go down to the beach or do something else of your choice, Sweetness,” I murmur as I lean into her to brush my mouth against hers. When I pull away, I give her a smile. “Can’t stay here forever baby. We need to head back tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to go back. It’s nice here in this little bubble. I’m not ready for it to be popped yet,” she mutters.
“I know, Sweetness, but we gotta get back. Bills don’t pay themselves and the boys are bitchin’ about you not bein’ at the club runnin’ shit.” I chuckle at the reminder from Ranger, Coyote, and Neo bitching about the fact all the cunts who work at DP have been slacking since Victoria left.
Goes to show most of the bitches for who they really are. Only reason they did like they were supposed to is because of Vi making sure they did their jobs. They might have talked shit behind her back and all that drama bullshit they do, but they’d done their jobs.
“Ugh, fine, I want to go soak up the sun some more before having to get back to working with hateful people who think they're better than me,” she sighs.
“Vi, none of them are better than you and for that matter they’ll do it too. ‘Cause from now on, when you go to Dolly’s Playhouse, you’ll be wearing something that says just that,” I declare.
“What’s that?” she asks, furrowing her brow.
“Your property cut,” I state.
“I’ve already told you, I’m not your property,” she snaps.
“Sweetness, you're funny, you know that. The cut means you’re my ol’ lady, Vi. Means you're protected and better than all those other bitches,” I say.
“Oh,” she murmurs as she seems to be thinking it over.
“Oh is right, baby. You’re mine and I want every fucker to know it. Maybe then I won’t feel the need to stab them in the face,” I mutter.
“You wouldn’t have.” The shock on her face is priceless.
“Damn right, I would have. You don’t know how many times I’ve had to hold myself back from beating the hell out of most of the customers who saw you dancing. Their only saving grace was the fact they never saw everything,” I growl.
“That’s no reason to hurt someone,” she states.
“Victoria, you are more than enough reason,” I say firmly. “Now, enough talking. I need to feed you and then I need to fuck you.” Standing, I pull her with me, letting her feel the stiffness of my cock as I hold her to me.
“Hmm, you could just fuck me first,” she says breathlessly as she runs her hands along my chest.
“Sounds like a plan, but you’ll need your energy for what I have planned.” I chuckle as I release her to do her thing while I go fix her breakfast.
By the time we leave here, she’ll be feeling me for days on end.
Chapter Thirteen
Victoria
I swear, by the end of this pregnancy, I’m going to pull my hair out if Tracker doesn’t quit with this overprotective bullshit. Since getting back from Australia a month ago, he’s barely let me out of his sight. When I’m at DP, he’s my shadow. At home, he’s constantly bugging me about food, telling me to eat this or that.
It’s as if he knows about me not eating. But things are different now. I know I need to eat for given reasons. If I weren’t sure, I probably wouldn’t be.
Things with the women at the club haven’t really changed other than Tracker ignoring them all. He seems to really want what we have to be real. Dixie and Gia are still skanky bitches who hate me, even more so since I got back. Maybe it’s because of the cut I wear each day, but I know it's most likely from the tongue-lashing Tracker gave them when they both tried kissing and rubbing up on him.
I laughed my ass off seeing the expressions on their faces. They do their jobs and leave me alone for the most part— well, besides the death glares. I dare not ask Gia for a glass of water or juice from the bar. But I wouldn’t even need to, thanks to Tracker. He made sure there was a supply of cranberry grape juice in the office.
My cravings have been getting nuts, from the cranberry grape juice to pickles dipped in chocolate, all of which Tracker indulges me without a peep. Well, maybe a lifted brow and shake of his head.
The only times he hasn’t been around me is when he has to go on a run. When that happens, he leaves Cane or Neo with me.
Such as today.
I have my first ultrasound and I’m not even sure he’ll be able to be with me. Some of the guys had to head out to their Tennessee Charter to help with a situation. I’d tried to ask but learned quick that club business isn’t something Tracker and I will ever talk about. Hence, the fight we had before he left which turned into explosive mind-blowing sex. Tracker explained to me his reasons, and while I may find them ridiculous, I’ll respect them.
With my appointment not being until later in the day, I decided to go to my office to get caught up on some paperwork. Whoever was doing my job while I was gone made a mess of things and I could strangle them. No one will answer when I ask them who was doing my job, not wanting to own up to the clusterfuck they’d made.
After I get ready for the day, I head out to my car that, thanks to Raven giving Tracker my spare key, had gotten back from the airport. God, Raven, she’s still pissed at me for doing something foolish, as she put it. Yet at the same time, she’d been more pissed at Tracker for being a dumbass.
I can’t help but think of the night we got home and found Raven sitting on the couch, patiently waiting in the dark. It was laughable the way Tracker pulled his gun out when he realized someone was in the house. Raven had simply stated, “Put your fuckin’ toy away and get out of the way so I can see my pain in the ass of a best friend.”