“I got an idea who you are, but why don’t you tell me your name, babe?”
I smirk at his forward attitude. This guy has a thing or two he can stand to learn about Forsaken women.
“You first, handsome.” I purse my lips while I fold my arms across my chest.
“You see my patch?” His tone is bored, but his smile gives him away.
“I ain’t blind,” I say. “This is my house and my town, pal. Name please.” We’re flirting, so it makes all of this okay. If he were old or serious, I’d be heading for my dad to take care of this for me, but this guy seems safe to tease.
“Daniel,” he says with a shake of his head. The smile on his face never fades.
Giving him a sexy smile—at least I hope it’s coming across as sexy—I rake my eyes up and down his frame. He’s surely attractive, and I’ve no doubt that if I weren’t already crushing so bad on Jeremy I’d be hoping the end result of all this flirting would be heated kissing and some light petting. But I am crushing on Jeremy, and I doubt Daniel’s idea of a happy ending is light petting. The thought of a man who I’d bet has more experience than I can fathom having his way with me scares me a little and calms the urge to flirt shamelessly as I’ve been doing.
“Cheyenne,” I say and point to my chest. “I take it you’re here for my dad.”
He gives a low whistle. “Bloody Knuckles’s kid. Should have known. A babe like you learned to bust balls early in life, didn’t you?”
“You know it,” I say and head for the front door. Being busted by this guy makes it impossible to go sneak into the backyard now. Crap. I don’t know how I’m going to play this off. If it were six months ago, Dad wouldn’t give a shit what I was doing. But now? Everything is too dangerous, and I really, absolutely can’t handle another lecture from Aunt Ruby—because that’s who Dad sends in when he gives up—telling me how I’m going to get myself or someone else killed by wandering off all the time. I don’t care if this dude is charming and cute. I’m just no longer in the mood to be social now that I have to fabricate yet another freaking lie.
“This way.” I say lead him around the front of the house and toward the front door. He follows closely, almost too close, and when we’re less than twenty feet from the front porch, he wraps his hand around mine. I spin around in confusion and stare up at him.
Leaning in close, he says, “You got an old man?”
I suck in a deep breath, the motion causing his attention to redirect from my eyes to my mouth. Instinctively, my tongue darts out and wets my lips. The near-constant smile on his face darkens as he steps even closer. The cool leather of his cut grazes my thin cotton shirt. His warm, sour breath basks over my face, and despite how much I think I could like him in another time and another place, this doesn’t feel right.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he says and slides his hand up around the back of my neck as he guides my face toward his.
I’m not scared to tell him no. I just don’t know how. Grown men, especially Forsaken, don’t hit on me. Like ever. Dad makes sure they all know who I am so they can stay away. Before Alex stormed into town, I even had Ryan tell me that, no matter how cute I’ve gotten, he’ll never touch me because my dad is such a fucking asshole. We weren’t even talking. I was just sitting at a picnic table at the clubhouse and eating some fried chicken Aunt Ruby cooked up. He came up, plopped down, started eating, and then proceeded to tell me that I shouldn’t like Forsaken men because Dad’s gotten me blackballed.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he says, obviously noticing how tense I am. His lips barely touch mine, but he doesn’t press. “I’m not an asshole.” Then he pulls back and places his hand beneath my chin. “Don’t ever be afraid to tell me no. I’m not that kind of man. You’re safe with me.”
I nod my head, still trying to catch my breath from what could have been something incredibly hot or super intimidating. His words slip over me, providing little comfort. Everything just happened so fast. One moment we were walking, and the next, he was practically dry humping me in the driveway.
“Miss Priss is off limits,” Jeremy shouts as his footsteps rush toward us. I hadn’t even heard the front door open much less hear the guys. I glance behind me to find that not only is Jeremy charging toward us, but so are Dad, Uncle Wyatt, and Duke.
“She yours?” Daniel asks with raised eyebrows. Jeremy’s jaw locks in place as his nostrils flare. Daniel smirks. “You’re a prospect, boy. What’s yours is Forsaken’s.”
A wash of irritation wafts over me. What a freaking asshole.