Page 6 of Street

“Tuck in your shirt and let Inky ride next to your skin. Wildcats are notorious for panicking on bikes,” Street said.

“Are you okay to drive?” she asked as she followed his instructions, thankful he’d come up with a plan to keep Inky close. “I could…”

Street interrupted, “I’m good. Climb on.”

She grinned as she stepped over the bike. Somehow Rosa suspected she was the first person other than Street to operate his bike… and that he would need some time to get over needing a driver.

Chapter 3

Street drove in the middle of the pack as they returned to Inferno and the compound. Several times, someone let out a yip that carried through the wind blowing past them to signal that a bike had appeared. The Ravagers had spotted them once they hit the city limits.

The rival MC didn’t attempt to grab Rosa or Street. They simply set out scouts to track them along their path. Wraith led the Devil Daddies through a warren of side streets, losing the other group several times. Street guessed he wasn’t trying to escape the observers completely. Wraith was enjoying making them scramble.

When they turned a corner and spotted two Ravagers driving toward them, Rosa tightened her arms around Street’s waist. Hell, no. They weren’t going to get their hands on his girl. Relying on Wraith’s instinct to avoid the Ravagers, Street waited to signal she was safe until the Devil Daddies swerved through a fast-food parking lot to maintain their distance. As soon as the Devil Daddies lost them again, Street wrapped his hand around her thigh and squeezed to reassure her. Inside, he celebrated that she hadn’t panicked but had trusted him.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Little girl,” Street called over his shoulder. She nodded against him before pressing her helmet firmly to his spine. He suspected she’d hidden her face, unable to look. Street tried to ignore the feel of her petite curves glued to his back.

Her baggy clothing had hidden her small, high breasts and whipcord muscles. He guessed she’d worked hard for a long time to survive, taking jobs that required endurance and physical labor. She hadn’t served as a bartender at the dive bar where she’d warned him but had lugged immense buckets of ice and cases of alcohol to restock the bar. Street hated that she’d had a tough life. What was her backstory?

Razor caught his eye. The MC’s doctor was concerned by her withdrawn posture. Street gave him an upward nod to let the doctor know she was fine. Razor acknowledged him with a thumbs-up. Street appreciated him more than ever before for being worried about his Little.

His Little. Had he already claimed her before he actually heard her confirm she was Little? Certainty flooded his mind. She was Little. He didn’t have any doubts. Rosa was tough and defensive. Convincing her to let her guard down would require time and consistency.

The group turned and drove past Inferno. Those on the front porch waiting to get in and the MC members milling around to supervise waved and hollered as their bikes rolled past. The roar of approval washed over him.

Rosa’s helmet moved from the center of his back. Street guessed she was peeking out. “I’m their favorite,” he quipped.

Those around them laughed. “In your dreams, Street. All those ladies are in love with me,” Toxin said.

“They’re infatuated with Diablo. Everyone wants the leader,” Scythe suggested. “He’s the baddest biker of the bunch.”

Diablo gunned his engine, underlining that statement before joining the banter. “Don’t you forget it.”

Street chuckled. Lucien wasn’t amused or light-hearted often. Street had recently moved up from a prospect to a full member of the Devil Daddies MC. He might be relatively new to the group, but he’d shown up consistently and pursued greater involvement and responsibilities with every group interaction. The others treated him as if he’d hung with them for years.

Present for so many of the skirmishes that had united his MC brothers with their Littles, Street had hoped to be as lucky. As soon as he’d figured out all the members were Daddies, Street understood what had drawn him to the group. They were wired just like he was.

Feeling Rosa squirm as their speed decreased, Street squeezed Rosa’s leg. “We’re almost there.” He tried to ignore the allure of her body moving against his. He definitely didn’t want to step off his bike with an obvious erection.

“You’re okay with me staying with you?” she asked quietly when they stopped to wait their turn to go through the gate into the compound. Pirate waved his brothers through and welcomed them home.

“You can live here as long as you’d like,” he answered truthfully, hoping he could convince her to remain with him way past the point where she was safe again.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

When he rolled up to Pirate, Street said, “This is Rosa. She’ll be with me for a while.”

“ID?” Pirate asked, and Rosa stiffened behind him.

“Unavailable,” Street answered for her.

“Last name?” Pirate asked.

“Why do you need to know?” Rosa challenged him.

“Because that’s my job as the ruler of the guard shack,” Pirate told her.

“He’s joking, Rosa. Pirate has a wicked sense of humor. Give him your name for his list of approved visitors and let him take a picture. He’s not going to call the cops on you or inform anyone where you are,” Street reassured her.