Chapter 12

I swallow hard,my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth like glue. A nervous flutter dances in the pit of my stomach. I"ve never had these types of feelings before when taking someone out. Iggie brings it out of me. He makes me feel things I can't recall feeling before. Sure, I've had obsessions, but eventually, after some forceful intervention, I moved on. Bre and Alisha are a thing of the past. I hardly remember what caused my obsession with them.

But Iggie. He makes obsession feel like child's play. He consumes me in ways that I didn"t think were possible. I"m determined to prove to him that he is mine, no matter what.

I park in front of his house and walk to his front door. Like one of those douches in a movie, I straighten the black polo shirt under my cut and knock on the door. It opens and my breath gets caught in my throat, causing me to choke. His ashy blond hair is messily slicked back, and his glasses are perfectly perched on his nose. I stop myself from reaching up and cupping his jaw, which is masked in the slightest five o'clock shadow.

I knew the outfit I sent would look good on him, but picturing him in it and seeing the real thing doesn"t compare. I want to drop to my knees and worship his body once more. Again, something I'm not used to feeling. Sex for me is usually all about my gratification. I get in, come and get out. This man, though, has me wanting to give him all the pleasure.

"You ready?" I hold my elbow out like Kiki told me to while I wait for his answer.

"Yeah," he replies softly. He hooks his arm in the crook of mine and I escort him to my cage. Once he's inside, I reach around him, buckling his seatbelt, and shut the door. Strolling around to the driver's side, I climb in.

"Where are all the gifts?" Iggie asks while looking in the backseat.

"The old ladies wrapped them with some help. We loaded them into our van and one of the guys drove it over so they'd get there safely."

"Smart," he responds, staring out the passenger window as we pull out onto the road.

"So how has work been? You likin' the new position?" I ask.

"Yeah. I love it. Limited time made the start of my week challenging, as I wanted to do something for Christmas."

"I'm sure you figured somethin' out. You're smart."

"Your faith in me means a lot." He chuckles. "I figured something out, the company is sponsoring a family through the Goodwill program. We will provide a fully decorated tree, Christmas dinner, and gifts galore."

"See. I didn't doubt you were about to tell me something amazin'. Your passion and problem-solvin" abilities are clear."

"It's the glasses, huh? They give the impression I'm super smart and nerdy, but I promise you I'm not. I had a solid 3.0 GPA all of college and high school." He pushes his glasses up his nose.

"The way you talked at dinner about your passions told me you're smart. The glasses give you a librarian look with a sexy twist. It's an image I very much can't get out of my head and has starred in every filthy, depraved thought I've had since we met." I look at him out of the corner of my eye. He rubs his hands down his thighs, the bulge in his pants very noticeable.

For the rest of the ride, we talk about the week and what shows we like. Stupid first date shit that we didn't cover at dinner because I was too busy stuffing his cock down my throat.

"We're here," I tell him, stopping the truck in the banquet hall parking lot.

I jump out and hold his door open for him, grabbing his hand and escorting him to the entrance of the building. Once I help Iggie out of his coat, I hang it up, and we head into the dining room, where I can hear the crowd chatting loudly. I spot Pistol and the guys right away and lead Iggie to their table with two empty chairs waiting for us.

A round of whistles greets us as we step up to the table and I pull Iggie's chair out. "Knock it off, you bunch of assholes. You'll scare him off."

"I think you did a fine job of that yourself in the alley that day," Viper teases.

"Fuck you," I spit at him. Then turn and look at Iggie. "Don't listen to them. They're a bunch of barbarians who don't know how to act."

He says nothing, just gives me a small smile. "Let me introduce you, though. Guys, this is Ignatius. Some of ya met him at Howards. Iggie, this is Viper, Pistol, Rubble, Trucker, and Zero," I tell him, pointing to each brother as I go clockwise around the table.

"Nice to meet you all. I hope to remember all your names," Iggie tells them. "They're a bit out there, so I think it'll be easy enough." His eyes widen and his mouth gapes as he slaps a hand over it.

His embarrassment over what he just said and the bright red taking over his cheeks are cute.

"Ha! I like this one, Prez. He's not scared to say things. I vote you keep him." Viper laughs.

"I like him too, and trust me, I plan on keepin' him." I reach over and lay a hand on Iggie's thigh, squeezing it. "If he'll let me."

The head of the Angel Tree organization, Tina, clears her throat and we all turn her way, seeing her standing on stage, microphone in hand. "Welcome everyone to the annual Angel Tree dinner. Tonight will be filled with joy, good food, and hefty checkbooks. So without giving a long-drawn-out speech, I declare that dinner be served!"

The crowd claps and cheers while the doors to the dining room open and wait staff flood the room holding trays of food. Bartenders walk around taking drink orders and when they get to our table, we order a round of Busch Lights except for Iggie, who asks for a Strawberry Moscow Mule.

They set our plates in front of us while another waiter dishes our portions onto them. Upon completion, they place the remaining trays on a buffet table at the front of the room. I look down at my food and hear my stomach rumble. Filet mignon, crispy potatoes with gravy, green beans, and a salad. My mouth waters as I pick up my fork and dig in.

We eat and chat like old friends. The guys are keeping Iggie entertained with their endless stories and banter. He's holding his own with them, though, which surprises me. He's it for me, and this is just more proof.

As we finish, the servers clear our plates away before setting a plate of strawberry cheesecake in their place.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it seems we are starting dessert, which means it's time to reveal this year's auction items. You all know the drill. My assistant will hold up the item and, after a brief description, we'll start the bidding. The one with the highest bid takes it home." Tina steps away from the microphone as the auctioneer steps forward. "Oh! I almost forgot. We have a few last-minute gifts that need to be brought in. So if you have any, let's do that now."

I nod to Pistol, who glances down into his lap momentarily before giving me a thumbs up. The doors open and the prospects file in with wagon after wagon full of our gifts. Ten thousand five hundred seventy-one dollars and thirty-two cents' worth, to be exact.

Once they"re all inside and I"ve made my point to these pompous assholes, Tina smiles with a wink and retakes her place on stage. "The Hell's Mayhem MC made this huge donation and we thank you deeply for it."

Her assistant steps forward and holds up the first item while the auctioneer describes it. It's some fancy wine tasting and not anything we'd be interested in. The bidding begins, and the thing sells for almost ten grand. Iggie chokes on his drink and I smack him on the back.

The night continues in the same manner. Stuck-up dicks flashing their money around trying to prove to each other who's the richest. It's ridiculous, but it's for a good cause, so who am I to judge?

The last item of the night is a trip to Las Vegas for a long weekend. It's an all-inclusive stay at the Bellagio minus spending money while you're there. I see Iggie perk up when the bidding starts.

"We'll start the bid at one thousand dollars. Do I have one thousand?" the auctioneer calls.

Iggie raises his hand, and I smile. "You wanna go on a vacation?" I chuckle. "Didn't you just get a promotion?"

"I've never been to Vegas. It's on my bucket list," he murmurs.

"I'd be interested to know what else is on that bucket list," I flirt.

"Two thousand! Who'll give me two thousand?"

My man's hand inches up again.

"Two thousand! Going once. Going twice." Iggie is practically bouncing in his seat. He's so excited he's about to win this trip. "So?—"

"Five thousand," someone calls from the crowd.

Iggie immediately deflates. "No worries, babe. Bid again," I assure him.

"I can't afford to," he whispers as his cheeks flush and he plays with his collar.

"Six thousand," I call and Iggie's eyes snap to mine. "What? I like Vegas. I could go back."

"Seven," the asshole calls again.

"Eight," I bark.

"Nine," he volleys instantly.

"Fifteen thousand dollars," I reply, unwilling to back down. I see Iggie in my peripheral and he has tears in his eyes as his head shakes in denial. Not sure why he's so surprised, he wanted this trip and if I can give it to him I'm going to.

"Do I hear sixteen? Going once. Going twice. Sold!" The auctioneer bangs his gavel on the podium. "That ends our auction for the night and we end on the night's high. Congratulations to all of those who won tonight and thank you to everyone who donated."

"Let's go." I grab Iggie's hand and pull him away from the table. Dragging him from the room, I pay my auction bill, grab Iggie's coat, and head to the cage.

When we're back on the road, I look at Iggie and squeeze his hand.

Iggie sits in the passenger seat, his fingers tapping lightly on his knee as he glances out of the window. He turns with a grateful smile, his eyes bright with excitement.

"Thank you for buying that vacation for me."

I grin, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction at his appreciation. "It was my pleasure," I reply, my tone laced with sincerity. "And maybe we could go together," I add, giving him a playful wink.

Iggie"s cheeks flush a rosy hue, and he looks away, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I"d like that," he says softly, his gaze meeting mine again with a hint of anticipation.

Not wanting to push the issue further just yet, I change the subject.

"Do you want me to take you home? If not, I'd like to invite you back to the clubhouse. And I'm hopin' you say yes."

"Umm, sure. We can go to your clubhouse." He smiles.

"You don't have to. I just want you to see and understand everything that I am, so you can decide if you're in or out. I don't want you disappearin' on me again."

"Okay. Show me your club," he breathes.

"Good. You're mine, Ignatius, and I plan on showin' you just how good being mine can be."