Man of the House: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

“Come on,” Ford said, grinning, “we know you, man. We’ve seen you two flirting over the years. You mean to say you didn’t touch her at all?”


The memory of Janine pressing herself against me, kissing me hard in the parking lot came back. She tasted incredible, amazing.

I shook my head. “Nothing,” I said.

“Well,” Dow said, “missed your chance, I guess. Jetter will be marrying her any time now.”

“Fucking Jetter,” Ford said. “That piece of shit. I can’t believe we’re really patching them over.”

“Makes sense for the war,” Dow said. “I hate Jetter as much as the next guy, but right now I hate the Snakes more.”

“Shit, never thought I’d say it, but I agree. Right now, the Snakes are worse than the Rebels.”

Dow nodded. “Soon, the Rebels will be Demons anyway.”

Ford looked at me. “What do you think, Clutch? What’s Janine saying?”

I shook my head slowly. “Won’t lie to you, boys. I think this marriage thing is bullshit.”

“Why?” Dow asked. “Not like we haven’t used marriage before.”

Ford grinned. “Yeah. I’ve been there, done that.”

“Worked out for you,” I said. “But Janine, she doesn’t like Jetter any more than we do. And he’s a fucking scumbag.”

“So?” Dow asked. “It’s not like it’ll be real.”

“It’ll be real enough, at least to him,” I said. “She’s a part of this club, even if she’s not a member. Seems wrong to pawn her off for our own gains.”

Ford nodded slowly. “I hear you, brother.”

“What’s she saying about it?” Dow pushed.

“Not much honestly,” I admitted. “You know how she is. She loves the club, will do anything for it.”

“Yeah,” Dow said. “Not a shock there.”

“It’ll work out, brother,” Ford said to me. “Always does. Don’t stress it.”

“Not stressing it,” I said. “Whatever the club wants, it gets.”

The two of them heard the darkness in my voice, but neither of them said anything about it.

We’d all been pissed at the club for some reason or other over the years. We never agreed with everything that happened. But they knew and I knew that no matter what, we did what the club needed done, because it was the club over everything else.

“Clutch.” I looked up and saw Janine looking at me. “You busy?”

I shook my head.

“Hey, Janine,” Ford said.

“Hi, Ford, Dow.”

Dow nodded at her, smiling.

“Clutch, take me home?”

Normally that would make the boys laugh and make comments, but neither of them bothered.

I stood up. “That’s my job,” I said.

She didn’t respond to that, just left the clubhouse.

“Later, boys,” I said to Dow and Ford. They nodded as I left.

Janine was standing next to my bike when I got outside. “How’d it go?” I asked her.

“Fine,” she said. “You were gone for a while.”

“Went for a ride.”

She chewed her lip. “Look, Clutch—”

“It’s fine,” I said. “You made your choice. I’m just your bodyguard.”

She stared at me and then nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Where to?” I asked

I got onto the bike and she climbed on the back. “Take me home.”

I pulled out and rode off into traffic.

We headed back toward her place. It was still early in the day, so I wasn’t sure what I was going to have to be dealing with, but that was fine. The club wanted me to stick close to Janine, and I wanted to make sure she stayed safe.

I couldn’t help but think about her arms around my body as we headed back toward her apartment. I knew it was fucking stupid to think about her body or to think about her hands on mine, but every time she was around me I felt my cock getting hard, my blood pounding through my veins.

We made it back to her apartment after a fast ride. We got off the bike and went up to her place in silence. I stopped her at the top of the landing.

“Let me,” I said, taking her key.

“I can open my own door, Clutch,” she said.

“You’re going to be in more danger now,” I said. “I need to start checking.”

She shook her head. “There’s no need. It hasn’t happened yet.”

“Janine,” I said, and she sighed, giving in. I unlocked her door, moving inside first.

The place was empty and normal.

“See,” she said, walking in. “No problem.”

“Better safe,” I said, and she just rolled her eyes.

She busied herself in the kitchen, making some lunch, as I sat down on the couch again. I was becoming intimately acquainted with this couch. Me and this couch were becoming bros.

“Tell me,” I said to her. “Why are you really marrying this guy?”

She paused what she was doing. “Seriously, just going to casually start this conversation?”

“I’m wondering, so I asked.”

“Not much subtlety.”

“You know me, princess,” I said. “I just take and do what I want.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Do you really care?”

“I know you think you owe the club. I want to know if it’s more than that.”

B. B. Hamel's books