He began walking me backward, moving me toward the dance floor. I couldn’t help but follow, my body going with the flow he was creating.

“I really can’t dance,” I called over the loud music and grinding bodies.

He stopped suddenly and used his hands to spin my body around so that my back was pressed against his chest. They quickly fell back on my hips and with his body now molded against mine, we began to move.

At first we just swayed—side to side, side to side. It was simple, slow and sensual.

He soon began to twist my hips. At first I resisted. I knew my dancing skills were less than stellar and in no way did I want to embarrass myself. He moved his mouth so it was by my ear, his breath tickling at my hair and sending chills down my spine. “Just let me in, let me take control.”

“Why are you asking for control?” I shot at him, smiling at the tenderness he was showing that I definitely wasn’t used to from being with the brothers.

Part of me wanted to smack him and say, just man up and take what you want. That’s what I knew, that’s what I’d always loved about Optimus. He always went after what he wanted and never sought validation. Deacon’s touch was sexy, it was soft and it made me float. But what it didn’t do was make my legs weak and my heart race. Another part of me thought it was nice, to be finally asked what I wanted. To be respected enough as a woman to be treated with a soft hand, something you just don’t get with rough and ready bikers.

He chuckled lightly, his chest shaking against my back. “I believe it’s called being a gentleman.”

“It’s called being a fucking pussy. Now get your hands off my property.”

I couldn’t stop my fists from clenching as I watched her body move. Chelsea had never been a dancer. It just wasn’t her foray, but it wasn’t mine either so I couldn’t care less how good her dancing skills were. What killed me were his hands on her, directing her, controlling her movements like she was his puppet.

Hell no.

Not one of my girls, and absolutely not fucking Chelsea.

She was mine.             

And I was about to remind her of that fact.

“I’ll get the friend,” Blizzard said as he stared toward the bathrooms. I could care less about her right now, but Blizzard has spent the last thirty minutes that we had been there, watching her.

I walked up behind them as she laughed. “Why are you asking for control?”

“I believe it’s called being a gentleman.”

I ground my teeth. “It’s called being a fucking pussy. Now get your hands off my property.”

Chelsea jumped and swiftly moved away from her new friend. Her eyes connected with mine, she didn’t look surprised, more apprehensive, but she kept her mouth closed.

Good.

She knew I was angry and that she shouldn’t stir the pot. She wouldn’t fucking like the consequences. I was pissed. No, I was beyond pissed, I was infuriated.

Chelsea knew what she was doing was wrong. She knew it was against the rules. I’m not sure what the hell was running through her pretty little head, but I was about to fucking find out.

“Chelsea,” I snapped.

She glared at me, anger sparkling in her eyes, but she moved to my side.

I kept my eyes on her little dancing partner and he never took his off me. “Property is something you own, like a car or a house, not a person,” he sneered.

I smirked and folded my arms across my chest. “For you, maybe. Me? I own shit that guys like you only dream of. Including her.” I walked behind Chelsea and wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her with me as we moved off the dance floor.

The idiot followed. His eyes drifted from me to her. The way he looked at me was full of hatred and contempt. I’m sure he must know who the club are, possibly what we do. But the stare he was giving me wasn’t just because he’d heard shitty things about the club.

It was like he knew us.

That it was more personal.

“You don’t have to go with him,” he gritted, his gaze finally falling back to her as he followed us.

“Deacon, it’s fine. Just leave it.” Chelsea tried to twist out of my arms, but I held on to her tighter.

“Sorry pretty boy, we aren’t accepting male club whores at the moment.” Blizzard grinned as he strolled up next to us, his hand grasped firmly around Chelsea’s friend’s wrist much to her dismay. “You’ll have to stay.” He continued to drag her past us and I managed to catch the odd curse word followed by his deep throaty laughter.

“Let’s go.” I gripped Chelsea’s hand in mine, but I didn’t miss the sympathetic look she threw over my shoulder at her new buddy, who had actually done the smart thing and not followed us.

“I’ll walk!”

“Like hell you’ll walk,” I heard Blizzard snap. “Get on the motherfucking bike.”

Chelsea sighed as we walked up beside them. “Rose, he’s just going to take you home. I promise you’ll be safe.”

“I’ve never been on a bike before! I don’t even have a jacket.”

Blizz growled deep in his throat before he whipped off his cut and the leather jacket that he had underneath it. I stared in awe as he forced the young girl’s arms through the sleeves of his jacket before shrugging his cut back on.

“There, now can we get the fuck out of here?”

Chelsea glared at him. “Don’t touch her.”

His head shot up and a small smile appeared. “I wouldn’t worry about what I’m going to be doing princess. You’re in enough trouble as it is.”

I saw her flinch.

That’s right, Blackbird.

“Rose, I’ll call you in the morning!” she called to her friend over the loud rumbling of Blizzard’s bike. The girl gave her a quick nod, her eyes darting around furiously before they took off into the night.

I threw my leg over my bike, tossing Chelsea my helmet. She quickly strapped it on and mounted behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist tightly.

As we pulled away from the curb, I caught sight of the guy from the club standing at the front doors watching. Ham had called to tell us that some guy had approached the girls, and at that I’d had enough. Blizzard and I had shown up not long after. The ride wasn’t long, since we’d been hanging out at a bar, a couple blocks over, opting to skip Friday night’s party at the clubhouse. The ride home was short. I could feel Chelsea was uneasy as she sat slightly back from me, instead of being plastered to my back as usual.

Good.

She was about to have a reality check, and this time I wouldn’t be holding anything back.

The clubhouse was still pumping as per usual for a Friday night. A couple of the strippers had come in and there were a few extra hang arounds filling the space. Since Harmony had left with Kit to head to Troy, we had also lost Dana, one of the other club girls. From what I gathered from Chelsea, the girl had become quite close to Shield before he’d died and losing him had sent her down a different path. We never stopped club girls from leaving, they weren’t signed into a contract to stay for a certain space of time. We only had girls here who wanted to be here. It was their choice.

Chelsea followed me through the clubhouse silently. I went straight to her room, opening the door and letting her walk through before I slammed it closed behind her. She flinched but steadied herself before taking a seat on the bed.

“Do we need to go over the rules?” I asked her, folding my arms across my chest.

“No.”

“Maybe we should because apparently you seem to have forgotten how things work around here,” I stirred.

She finally looked up at me, but instead of regret I saw a flicker of defiance. It was new. Chelsea wasn’t usually one to question or argue a point. Her and Harmony were two peas in a pod, and while we all knew how strong they both were, they knew where they stood in the club and what was expected of them.