Daddies Underground MC Club
It's still crowded, though the music has shifted to something more mellow, something that allows conversations to rise and fall in the air around us.
He doesn’t let go of me, not once, even as he steers us toward one of the couches near the bar. When he sits down, he tugs me gently by the hips, guiding me onto his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My arms loop around his neck instinctively, and he rests one hand on my waist while the other presses low on my thigh.
It doesn’t feel possessive, at least not in a suffocating way. It feels grounding, like he wants me there, close, so there’s no room for misunderstanding.
Bab Populer