“You protect her. Understand?” Mavis says to the dog.
He pulls a treat from a bag beside the doghouse and tosses it to Mush. “Good boy.”
Turning to me, he smirks. “If anyone steps foot on this property while you’re here, Mush will tear them apart and place their body parts at your feet.”
I blink, stunned. “That’s… so sweet.”
What the hell is happening to me?
Ten minutes later, I’m browsing dresses and shoes for this so-called meeting. The rack is filled with options—some casual,some upscale—and I spot a few I’d wear if I wasn’t his captive. Brisa, Mavis’s stylist, knows her fashion. Even at this ungodly hour, she looks like she stepped out of a magazine—crisp yellow blouse, tailored white slacks that hug her ankles, and those killer red stilettos. Her French braid swings over one shoulder as she promises to bring more options later, she thinks I’d like. She seems genuinely excited about styling me.
I hold up a royal blue, three-quarter length dress against my body. “I hope it doesn’t draw too much attention.”
“It’ll do exactly what it’s meant to,” Brisa replies. A devious smirk lifts her tanned cheeks.
“I’ve styled Mavis for five years. This is the first time I’ve dressed a woman he’s seeing.”
I don’t bother correcting her. No point. I won’t be in his world much longer. After this weekend, I’ll find a way out of Mavis’s crazy life.
∞
Standing by the oversized window that overlooks a sprawling garden, I sip on peach iced tea. It’s surprisingly delicious. Sweet, cool, calming. Not at all what I expected from a biker’s kitchen.
Then I hear it—the sharp click of dress shoes on the stairs.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
I turn, and my breath hitches. Mavis is dressed in a royal blue suit with a blue shirt, matching tie, and polished black dress shoes. His blond hair is slicked back. His look gives CEO vibes. I place a hand over my chest because it feels like the walls are closing in. This man is a walking sin.
“You look breathtaking, Sophie.”
He notices everything—my hair in long ocean waves, the flawless makeup, the jewelry, even the matching purse. His eyes move over the form fitting dress that stops mid-calf. The nudestilettos accentuate my toned legs. I’d done my make up myself, like I always had for Toby’s events. Only this time, I looked like I belonged at the boardroom table.
“Thank you,” I murmur, then catch my breath. “You clean up nice.”
I set the tea down. “I’m ready.”
Mavis slides his arm around my waist, pulling me into him. His cologne is addictive and lingers too close to the parts of me that want to betray my common sense.
“Soon, I’ll tell your twisted ex you’re mine,” he murmurs.
Then he kisses me.
It’s hard. Possessive. His lips crash into mine and I should shove him away, but I don’t. I grab the lapels of his suit instead, sliding my tongue into his mouth, moaning like I need him just to breathe.
Sanity kicks in.
I break the kiss and step back. “Shit—my lipstick.”
He arches a brow. “That’s all you have to say?”
I glance at his lips. My lipstick didn’t smudge. Transfer proof lipstick. I’d never worn it before. Good to know it really works.
“Why’d you kiss me?” I ask.
He checks his Rolex and takes my hand. “We have to go.”
Mavis taps his phone, and I hear the front door lock as we approach the chauffeured cream-colored Maybach.
