Текст книги "Burning Ember"
Автор книги: Darby Briar
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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 33 страниц)
Misunderstandings are the work of creative minds riddled with fear.
MAVERICK
It’s nine o’clock and I’m done waiting. After checking the crash room and verifying Dozer is sprawled out on the bed there, I walk in, go through Dozer’s pants until I find his keys, and remove the one I need.
In no time, I’m back at his door and slip the key into the doorknob. The door doesn’t unlock. When I twist it the other way, it locks. Because it was never fucking locked to start with.
I remember what Taz told Dozer and me the other morning, about the door being open. That it looked to him like Pumpkin was expecting company. I didn’t give it a second thought then. But now . . .
Now I want some goddamn answers. Like is she leaving it open for Dozer because he plans to come back, or because she’s hoping he will?
I heard him leave her room last night, so I know nothing happened between them. But for all I know they could have planned to get together later, after everyone was out for the night.
I try to tamp down the flood of jealousy rolling through me. But the feeling brings back memories of Dana giving an appreciative glance to a few of my brothers and how much that riled me at the time.
When I saw Dana for the first time at the car show on the fourth of July, I’d instantly been drawn to her. Every day until the day she left, she was the only woman I wanted in my bed. It was different for her though. In the eight months we’d been together, I caught her sizing up Edge once or twice. She loved watching others get it on. Got a rise out of being in the middle of a party when the lounge room turned into a fucking orgy. She’d beg me to take her right then. When I did, her orgasms were always more intense.
Where I wanted to keep her to myself, she relished voyeurism, and being watched. I don’t doubt she would have been all over a threesome if I’d ever suggested it.
For some fucked up reason, I wonder if Doll is the same way. She already has eyes for Dozer and for me. That much I can tell. But how far does that go? Does she really want to be a clubpiece if given the opportunity?
I push open the door.
The room is immaculate. It holds both her flowery scent and the hint of Dozer’s after-shave. The window in the room is open and the blinds are drawn up. Doll’s lying on her side, in the middle of the bed. She’s so small she only takes up a third of the mattress. Her red hair’s fanned out over Dozer’s pillow.
For a brief moment, an image of Dana sprawled out on my bed flashes through my mind. When Dana first came to the clubhouse, I talked her into getting clean. She had a rough time at first, but I nursed her through the worst parts. I remember her sleeping a lot during those first few days.
A breathy sound escapes Doll and she rolls to her back. I think for a second that I’ve woke her, but her eyes remain closed and she continues to breathe deeply.
Her gray tank top has ridden up and reveals her flat stomach. She has a tiny innie belly button and freckled skin. A sheet covers the lower half of her, but it’s obvious she’s not wearing a bra as her nipples pebble against the cotton covering them.
I’m taken back to my office and to how her nipples hardened for me when I brushed my fingers over them.
Heat floods my limbs. A mixture of lust and anger.
Any of my brothers could have walked in to see her like this. Guaran-fucking-teed, they wouldn’t have walked away without touching her.
Directing my anger on the only thing I can, I kick the bed. Hard. She stirs again but doesn’t wake. I don’t relent though. I lean over and push on the mattress until it jars her awake, or at least until her eyes flicker open.
“Luce?” she asks on a breathy whisper. “What are you doin’ in here?”
I think she’s still half-asleep because her eyes are half closed. “Sorry to disappoint, Doll, but I’m not whoever that is.”
Her eyes blink a few times and she hurries to pull up the sheet. “What time is it?”
I cross my arms and stare down at her. “Nine o’clock.”
She just looks up at me vacantly.
“You got people waitin’ to be fed and jobs to do. You’re not on a fuckin’ vacation, Doll. Get up.”
“Okay. Let me just change and I’ll be down in a minute.”
Her voice is breathy, and from the reaction stirring in my body, you’d think she’d just breathed a hot breath directly over the head of my cock.
Fuck. I need to get the hell out of here before I do something stupid.
I turn and take a few steps toward the door. When I look back, her eyes are closed like she’s going to fall back asleep.
“Doll, I’m not gonna tell you again. Get the fuck up.”
One of her eyes opens. “I’m awake, jeez. I was only—”
“What?”
“Nothing.” She watches me for a second. Then sighs, “Never mind.”
Then she swings back the sheet to reveal her nice thin legs and the little, white, cotton shorts.
“Jesus. What the fuck are those?”
She looks down at herself and shrugs. “Shorts. I had Dozer’s sweatpants on but it was too hot so I changed into these.”
Picturing her wearing Dozer’s clothing makes me want to stab something.
She stands and turns around, bends over the bed, and starts making it. My cock throbs behind my zipper. Mother of God. I curse some more under my breath and rub a hand down my face. I use my other hand to shift my erection into a more comfortable position. I find out quickly it’s not possible. The fucker is caged and wants out.
My control is slipping. I can feel it shredding to pieces. I’m seconds away from grabbing her hips and hauling her back into me so I can grind my growing erection into her perfect ass.
She stands after making the bed and finger combs her hair. It didn’t do her any good. It’s still wild and makes her look like she’s recently been well ridden. Her pouty lips beg to be kissed and her short as fuck shorts and tight tank are so thin I’m thinking I could rip them in two without any effort.
The things I could do with her fucking body.
Those legs. That ass. Fuck I want my face right . . .
“Fuck.”
I give myself a mental punch to the face.
“What?” she says as she looks up at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.
“Just get your ass downstairs.”
“Okay. Jeez. Can I at least use the restroom first?”
After staring her down for a second and meeting her glare for glare, I give a curt nod.
Then, as she goes to walk past me, I remember the unlocked door. Grabbing her upper arm, I ask, “Did you leave the door unlocked last night?”
Her eyes flit from my grip on her arm to my face. The blue in her eyes seems more dominant today. She tries to pull her arm from me but causes me to hold her tighter. “I did. But it’s not what—”
I growl. Yep . . . like a cave man. My fingers cinch even tighter around her arm.
Her eyebrows furrow as she wilts under my grip. “You’re hurting me.”
“Did I not make myself clear? They don’t touch you and you don’t touch them. That goes for Dozer too. Otherwise, what the fuck are you here for?”
She pushes her hair way from her face now and glowers. “You’ve got me all figured out, don’t you? There couldn’t possibly be another reason, could there? Like maybe . . . You know what?” That fake and innocent shell she was wearing when she came here is slipping. Falling away. The real Pumpkin, Doll, whoever she is . . . is coming out to play. And I’ll be damned if it doesn’t both piss me off and excite the hell out of me.
“What?”
“Things aren’t always so black and white.”
“They are in my world.”
My subconscious adds, until you came along.
“Then your world sucks,” she snaps.
Yeah, Doll. It does. But I don’t say that. Instead, I lean into her and point at her face. “This is the last fuckin’ time I’m gonna tell you to watch that fuckin’ mouth. Get changed and get the fuck downstairs.”
Sitting between Goose and Dozer, I eat breakfast. I’m still stewing over what went down in Dozer’s room.
“These pancakes? Or Frisbees?” Taz asks Bodie from two seats away.
“Don’t be an asshole,” Dozer hisses. To Pumpkin, he says, “They’re fine, babe.”
Taz picks up a pancake. “They smell like . . . turpentine.” He sniffs it and then spins it on the end of his fork for a second, before he flings it at Bodie.
Bodie jumps up from his chair. “The fuck?”
Whiz Kid, our newest prospect, busts a gut.
With a bewildered and dejected look, Pumpkin says, “I used the same mix . . .” Her eyes center on Taz.
“Don’t worry about it, babe.” Dozer reaches forward and pats her hand.
He’s lying. The pancakes taste like shit. Like someone thought it was a good idea to put vinegar in them. I’m guessing Taz did something, by the look on her face.
“Knock it the hell off. You guys are cleanin’ that shit up,” Dozer scolds Taz, Bodie, and Whiz, who just joined in.
“They’re not cleaning it up. Not their job,” I state.
“She’s not cleaning up after them when they’re acting like assholes.”
Taz shakes his hair and runs his hand over it dislodging food. He chuckles. “We’re fuckin’ bikers. We’re always assholes.”
I add, “If she can’t handle it, then there’s the door.”
“This is bullshit,” Dozer snarls.
Goose walks into the room alone. I can tell right away by the sour look on his face, he’s pissed. Most likely him and Lil’ had another row either last night or this morning. Those two are either really on or really off.
“Check out what Taz had me make, man.”
Every head turns to Whiz. He pulls out what looks to be a calendar.
“It’s a countdown,” Taz says.
Whiz explains, “You know like at Christmas, only this is a Pumpkin countdown.”
One by one, he flips through the pages. Each page has a picture of a girl. In a few she’s naked, in one she’s wearing lingerie, in another a bikini, and in the last photo she’s wearing a tight, ripped, black dress and straddling a Harley. Whiz loves that techy shit and it looks like he’s photo-shopped each image to have Doll’s face.
Griz mumbles something about not being able to have any pumpkin pie. And that he loves pie.
“You got to be fuckin’ kidding me.” Dozer stands and tries to grab the calendar but Taz keeps it out of his grasp.
The guys utter obscene comments about each photo.
Doll stands there and watches. There’s no emotion whatsoever on her face. Whiz Kid’s calendar and the comments ringing out are a manifestation of what she’s signed up for.
I can’t help but wonder how she’s taking it.
“Can I see it?” she asks tentatively.
The guys quiet down and Taz studies her.
“I’m not going to rip it up. I swear,” she says.
Taz cautiously hands it over. There’s a smirk on his face as she flips through the pages.
All the guys watch her.
Finally, she points at the one where she’s wearing a lacy, light blue bra and panties. “This is nice. Blue’s my best color and I like the garters. The yellow bikini’s not bad either though.”
My cock jumps like it’s in boot camp and got called to attention.
I’d give anything to see her in a yellow fuckin’ bikini. The visual has my jeans tightening to an unbearable degree.
Bodie hits Whiz. “Looks like we’re gonna be doin’ some fuckin’ shoppin’.”
I stand and walk the fuck out of the room, because if I don’t leave right now, everyone is going to see what this girl does to me. How I can’t think or function for one second while she’s around. How I get so fucking turned on by the mere sight of her. How I want to beat all of their fuckin’ faces in for even looking at sexy photo-shopped pictures of her.
My hand stalls on the doorknob when I hear Doll’s hushed voice behind the slightly opened door.
“That’s it. Keep going. It’s okay. Put it all in. It’ll fit.”
Clenching my jaw, I prepare to open the door and unleash hell on her and whoever’s in there with her.
“Okay, I think that’s all of it. Now what?” Lil’ Bird asks.
A laugh. Doll’s. “Now turn that knob, depending on the size of the load.”
“Um.”
“Well, I don’t think you could fit much more in there, so I’d say that’s a large load. If it’s only halfway full then choose medium, and if you’re washing only a couple of items then use small.”
A hear a few clicks. “There. Now what?”
“Now to start it, push that button there.” The sound of the washer starts up.
Lil’ Bird makes a surprised sound. “Is it supposed to do that?” Lil’ asks.
“Yeah,” Doll laughs. “Now add the soap. About a half cup, maybe a little more depending on the load. There’s a line right there. Yep, just like that. Dump it in but try to spread it around in a circle.”
“Like this?”
“Yeah, like that.”
I hear clapping and girlish giggles.
“Wow, look at how fast it’s filling up.” Another laugh, Doll’s. The sound runs through me and it’s soothing, like a nice cold beer on a hot day.
“Okay, now shut the lid and in about an hour we’ll come put everything in the dryer.”
I hear a huff, then . . .”Easy. I can’t breathe,” Doll says.
“Thank you so much. Goose is gonna shit a brick when he’s sees me doin’ this.”
I open the door and see Lil’ Bird pull away from hugging Doll.
They both turn their heads toward me when they hear the door open. Upon seeing me, Doll’s smile fades.
What? Are her smiles only for Dozer? The jealously rioting through me makes me say stupid shit like, “I was going to do a load of my stuff, but since you’re already in here, I’ll just leave this with you.” I drop my hamper down beside the door, and add, “Make sure you bleach the whites, and let me know when they’re done. Oh and . . . fold them before they get wrinkled to shit.”
She bites her lip to stop herself from giving me a sassy retort. I can tell it’s killing her to do so because her little freckled nose twitches.
“You got somethin’ to say, Doll?”
This time she smiles as she places her hand on her hip. “I’ll get right on that.”
“That’s what I thought.” I back out of the room and grin like a fucking idiot. Sassy fuckin’ mouth. She just can’t help herself. And secretly, I love it.
It’s all fun and games until it’s not.
EMBER
I’m gagging, dry heaving every time I come across another clump of God only knows what on this nasty floor. It’s rancid and I’m not entirely sure I have enough cleaner left to get the job done.
Although I’ve thought more than once that it might be better if I was blissfully unaware of what it is I’m scrubbing off the floor.
Uh . . . My skin crawls when I think about the germs I have all over me.
I’m sweating like mad. I’d give anything to be done and be able to take a shower. But I decided to tackle this project next, now that I’m done with the kitchen, and I’m not one to leave anything half done. Though I’m regretting my decision to get the most disgusting and difficult task out of the way first, before moving on to the easy stuff.
I have rags wrapped around my knees and gloves on. I’m balancing on my left hand, while relentlessly scrubbing with my right.
Taz is watching me work. He’s my babysitter for today. I can tell he’s getting a kick out of my discomfort. Every so often, he’ll complain about the smell, and point out a spot on the floor that I’ve supposedly missed. I just bite the inside of my cheek and keep cleaning.
Bodie is sitting on one of the leather couches and he’s stuffing his face with popcorn. Which couch depends on which way my ass is facing. He’s been moving from couch to couch to get the best view, like my butt is a damn blockbuster movie. It makes me a little sick to my stomach to think he has a wife and kids at home waiting for him, and yet here he is, acting like he has nothing better to do than watch my butt wiggle with each movement I make.
Dozer’s at the gym. Has been all day. He owns it. Or well, the club does. The club owns a half-dozen or more businesses around town, including a tattoo shop, an auto body shop, a real estate office, and Goose runs the strip club, while Griz and Cap manage a small casino. Yeah, casino. But not the same one Lily and I passed on our way to the clubhouse, which was enormous. None of the guys really work full time. Most of them leave after lunch and are back around six or seven.
Lily is the club’s shopping guru. She’s the go-to person if anyone needs anything. Clothes. Groceries. Alcohol. Smokes. Condoms. She also helps Goose part time at the strip club, Wet Tips. He won’t let her on the stage anymore since she became his old lady, but he’ll let her work a few day shifts at the bar.
It’s where they met and why she started hanging around the club.
“Missed a spot.” I look up and see a half smile on Taz’s face. He’s pointing to a spot about a foot to my right.
“That’s a nick in the floor,” I grumble.
“You sure?”
“Yep.
I grind my teeth as he steps down from his stool, and leaves footprints everywhere I just cleaned. He bends down checks the spot, huffs and shrugs his shoulders. “Guess you’re right.”
I swear he does stuff like this on purpose to get to me. I’m sure he’s hoping I’ll crack and leave. It’s worse though when he catches me alone. His taunts turn sexual, and there’s always an underlining threat in his choice of words. So that I’m never quite sure of his meaning.
I exhale and keep working. Making my way over to clean up his footprints.
My hair keeps falling in my face. Most of it is tied back in a bun, but strands keep escaping from the tie. I use my forearm and sweep them back but they only fall forward again a moment later.
“Why are you wearin’ such baggy clothes? Don’t you want us to get a good look at what we’ll be samplin’ soon?” Bodie asks.
“In,” Taz looks over at the calendar, “six more days.”
I meet Taz’s black gaze. He’s good looking, but in a Brad Pitt 12 Monkeys kind of way. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s got a few bolts missing upstairs. It’s not a far stretch of the imagination to picture him in a white straitjacket instead of his leather vest. Or an orange jumpsuit to go with those nice prison tats on his face.
Right now, he’s flipping a knife end over end—catching the blade, then the handle. He’s also sucking on a toothpick. Which I think is to cover up the slight lisp he has when he says certain words.
I shrug. “Honestly, I don’t care if you see what my body looks like.” I’m lying through my teeth, but I hope they can’t tell. With Taz, it’s all about not letting him get to me.
Bodie sits forward on the couch, hands going to his knees. Bodie and Taz share a look. I shake my head and go back to cleaning.
“That right? So you gonna strip for us then. Give us a little show, ginger?” Bodie asks. I pause and focus on his expectant face.
“How about it, little stray?” Taz quips. “If it’s no big deal and all.”
He’s testing me. He’s always pushing. Like Mav. They’re always watching, always pushing me to unleash my temper. They want me afraid. They want me to run.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Griz come in and take a seat at one of the low tables. His presence calms me. He’s been sweet to me since I came here. Him and Dozer.
I play it all off as a joke. See maybe if I can keep it lighthearted. And I have an idea of how to get them to leave me alone.
“Sure, does right now work for you?” I get up, stretch for a second. My back aches like someone took a bat to it. My knees throb but they’re also half-numb from me kneeling for so long. I twist my back and push my boobs out. “I’m dying for a shower. But I’ll need to get these clothes off. You want to help me out?”
Taz eyes me suspiciously. “What are you playin’ at?”
“I’m not playin’. I’m serious.”
“How about you, Bodie? You want me to run my hands all over your face? In your hair, maybe?” I say it all in a saucy sweet voice.
Bodie’s flirty smile changes as I raise my gloved hands toward him. He finally catches on and thrusts his hands out to ward me off. “Ah uh, fuck that. Don’t you come near me with those gloves on. Oh, shit!” He laughs and jumps off the couch, then over the coffee table in front of it. “You got jizz on you from fingertips to elbows. Who knows what kind of diseases you’ve picked up from that floor.”
Griz, along with some of the old bikers in the corner, burst out laughing. “Get him, sweetheart. Half that shit he’s talkin’ about is his leftovers.”
I’m smiling and following Bodie around the room. “Ah, baby. What’s wrong? Don’t want a piece of me now? And here I thought you were staring at my ass all day because you actually wanted to touch it.”
“I do, but not until you shower that shit off you!”
I mimic a male voice and say, “What’s wrong, baby? I’m clean. I’ve been tested, trust me.”
This causes a roar of laughter to break out from the guys in the room. Even Bodie is laughing as he darts to the side of me.
We dance around Rigor who’s shaking his head and chuckling quietly while trying not to move so I don’t accidently touch him.
“How about you, Taz? I thought you wanted me to strip. Aren’t you going to help a girl out?” I’m a bit nervous about playing around with him.
He pops off his stool though and smiles as he gestures for me to come at him. So I get closer.
“Better dance boxer boy,” Griz hollers.
Four feet away, I lunge for him.
Taz jumps back and starts bouncing on his feet. “Come on, little stray. You can do better than that. Let’s see whatcha got.”
I’m surprised. Who knew Taz had a fun side. I sure as hell didn’t.
He puts his hands up boxer style. When I try to touch him, he uses his hands and does some crazy wax on, wax off stuff as he bats my hands away.
“Watch out man, she might be small, but she’s fast,” Griz warns. “Maybe even as fast as you.”
“Not possible. Maybe he means you like it fast. Is that it, little stray?” Taz taunts.
I attempt to touch him, but he swivels and spins out of the way a second before my hand can make contact.
“Or maybe you like it hard. Hard and rough and fast. Bet you like to be dominated, don’t ‘cha?” The game suddenly loses its lightheartedness. At least it does for me.
I drop my hands. My jaw tightens.
No, Em. This is what he wants. Don’t let him get to you.
I turn away from him and say, “I guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” The words are hollow and I can hear how shaky my voice sounds.
I hear footsteps behind me a split second before thick arms circle my waist and suddenly I’m lifted off the floor. I scream. Everyone laughs. But my heart’s in my throat and all I can think about is Warner, and me being thrown on the bed, forced down against my will, my face to the mattress, my ass in the air. And him forcing himself on me, while I screamed like the damned for him to stop.
Bodie’s laughing like this is the funniest thing as I struggle against him. I know it’s not Warner, but the memories are right there, beating at the door of my mind and I’m doing everything to push them back. They don’t belong here.
“Don’t!” I plead and squirm in Bodie’s arms. “Please . . . put me down!”
I hate being man handled. I hate that my pleas and rebuffs have no effect. That I’m powerless. Again. But at least people can hear me. In that basement, no one could hear me. No one could help me. I could have died down there and no one would have known.
“Please, stop!”
Don’t freak out. I’m freaking out. I try to sound incredulous not panicked.
“Grab her arms!”
Ice skates down my spine. “No. Don’t!”
“What in the fuck’s going on?” Mav shouts from the doorway.
Instantly, Bodie drops me and steps away with his hands up. “Just playin’ the fuck around, man.”
Mav’s amber eyes shoot over to my face. There seems to be a question he’s asking, but not with words. His forehead’s wrinkled with concern and anger.
I hear it before I see it.
I turn just in time to watch Taz step away from the spilled bucket of mucky water. Spilled at just the right angle. So it floods the part of floor I recently finished.
“Fuck! You can’t leave that shit in the middle of the room,” Taz shouts as he jumps to a dry spot on the floor.
Heat floods into my face and ears. My chest burns. I open my mouth to tell them all to fuck off and to rot in hell. And I’ve never in all my years had the urge to tell someone that, so I know I’m close to losing it. But somehow I manage to hold it in.
Taz barks out, “What? It was a fuckin’ accident.”
I breathe heavily through my nose, knowing I need to pull myself together. I walk from the room, into the kitchen, and straight out the back door. Once outside I fall back against the building and stare up at the clear sky. Breathe, Em. Breathe.
No crying over spilled . . . ummm, yeah, not going there.
I take deep breaths and the fresh air helps. I revel in it for about ten minutes before I know I need to clean up the mess and let Taz know that he’s going to have to try harder.
After I’ve scrounged up a handful of towels, I go back into the main room.
I notice right away that Taz and Mav are having a heated discussion down the hallway. After a minute, Taz storms past me, sending me a deadly glare as he does so. Mav comes back into the room.
Griz walks up to me and grabs a towel. Then he lays it over some of the mess. My heart warms at the simple gesture. Rigor follows his example. Bodie watches both and then decides to help too. I give him a tentative smile and he gives me a kiss on the cheek in return.
A growl comes from the hallway and both Bodie and I peer up to see Mav scowling.
Bodie holds up his hands. “I forgot. Shit. Won’t happen again.”
“People better stop forgettin’ shit around here, or we’re gonna have problems.” His eyes dart to mine and then back to Bodie. “See that it doesn’t happen again,” Mav mutters before he goes in his office and slams the door.
Bodie looks over at me and the corner of his mouth lifts up, revealing his sexy dimples. He winks and then walks off to lay the towel over the mess on the floor. Together the four of us clean up the spilled water . . . and whatever other things it contains.
The garbage is overflowing. I pull it out and knot the top of the bag. It’s heavy enough I need two hands to carry it. Using the back door, I exit the clubhouse. I’m just outside the door when I hear Mav’s voice and stop in my tracks.
“No. You do what you got to do. I’ll take care of him. I get that you need to do this.” After a few seconds, he speaks again, “I’ll pick him up first thing tomorrow. Come on now, I always treat him like he’s my own.”
He gives a dismissive snort. “No, I won’t let these assholes do anything stupid to him.”
There’s silence for another few seconds and then, Mav lets out a laugh. A real laugh. It’s masculine and beautiful, and, God, I’d give anything to see his face right now. I bet it’s a sight to see. My stomach does a little flip, and I press my free hand there scolding it to settle down.
“You what?” he laughs again. “He okay? No, I’m not pullin’ them, Nick. At least not both of them. Pick one and keep him with you. And I mean like you’re fuckin’ connected at the hip. No bullshit. That’s the best I can do. No, not until we know who hit Cap and make sure they’re not comin’ back to finish the job.” He exhales. “And keep your piece with you at all times. Yeah, yeah. Call me when you get to Cali and check in every day. I gotta know you’re safe, even if it’s through Dozer.”
I hear him curse under his breath. “Yeah, there is. You heard about her, huh?” There’s a pause. “Lil’ Bird’s doin’. Surprise for Edge. She’s not stayin. It’s only a temporary deal.”
I hear the click of a lighter.
“Yeah, she definitely knows her way around a kitchen, so most of the guys have takin’ a likin’ to her.” Silence. He lets out a long breath. “Well, she’s not tough on the eyes if that’s what you askin’. Nope. Not goin’ there.”
Not tough on the eyes?
I bite my lip. I want to step closer. But I don’t want to give myself away. I shouldn’t be eavesdropping. I can’t help myself though. He sounds so at ease. Not angry, which he is every time he talks to me.
Another laugh, “Yeah, Bodie’s gonna be in the thick of it with Blaire if he doesn’t start showin’ up at home for meals and shit. She’ll come lookin’ for him, and we all know how that’s gonna end.”
“Fuck . . . don’t ask me. He’s pissin’ me off. I don’t know what’s goin’ on with him. Cap thought it was because of Bethany, but now he’s all over Do—Pumpkin. Maybe he’s just sick of waitin’ for her to come around.”
He’s silent for a long while and then says, “Hey, listen . . . I gotta run. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I jump into action and quietly back up so I can open and roughly slam the back door, acting as though I barely walked outside. I look up in time to see him coming around the corner cigarette dangling from his lips.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing him. It’s always a shock to my system. A sucker punch of sorts. Almost as if I forget, during the times when he’s not around, how gorgeous he is.
I’m unexplainably drawn to him like two compatible sides of a magnet. My lips part as my eyes hungrily run over him.
His jeans are light today. He’s wearing a gray T-shirt that hugs his chest and biceps and no leather jacket. His facial hair is growing longer and longer each day and I keep expecting him to trim it, because it’s starting to look like a beard, but each day it’s still there.
His eyes draw up to my face when he sees me. His steps falter, leaving us facing each other with three feet of space between us. Too much space and yet too little.
Something fills the space quickly though. Chemistry? Sexual tension? Anger? I’m not certain, but it’s there, coiling in the air. His irises are lighter than usual as they roam over me. Although that could be from the way the sunlight’s hitting his face. The breeze causes the smoke from his cigarette to waft toward me and I wave it away. I’m not a fan of the smell. And definitely don’t want it on my clothes. Reminds me too much of my mother.
He pulls the cigarette from his mouth and holds it away from me.
I’m caught completely off guard by the gesture. Then shocked stupid when he reaches toward the bag I’m holding and says, “Want a hand with that?”
I blink. What? Is he messing with me? I raise an eyebrow and pull the bag closer to me. “Uh . . . is that a trick question?”
His eyebrows pull together and his mouth quirks. “No, why would it be?”
“Right. Mmmm. Maybe because you get off on making me do disgusting things.” Oh my God. Did that really just come out of my mouth? As the words roll through my mind a second time, humor lights up his eyes. A knowing and naughty smile appears, and I can tell he’s trying and failing to stifle his reaction to my words and what they insinuate.
