She sighed, tightening her jacket around her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Come on.”
He tugged his helmet off and stored both before strutting up to the open doorway of the main landing. He followed her up a set of steel stairs to the first door on the left. She jiggled a key and pushed open the front door; it looked about as solid as wicker.
“Your place isn’t so safe, darlin’.” He looked around the apartment as he shut the door. It didn’t even latch when he pushed on it. “It wouldn’t be hard to break in.”
“Yeah, I guess you’d know about stuff like that.” She dropped her backpack on a plain grey couch and went into the kitchen. She filled a teapot with water and turned on a burner. “You want some tea?”
“Sure.” He shrugged off his jacket, placing it on a hook by the door. His pants were soaked, and the chill was setting in. He’d gotten way more wet than he expected, and all thoughts of seduction aside, he was desperate for a hot shower. “How long you lived here?”
“Just over a month,” she said, peeling her hoodie off, hanging it over the back of a folding chair in the kitchen. Her place looked like she’d been here only days. Maybe she hadn’t come with much—or maybe she couldn’t afford much. “This was the first place I could find. I haven’t really unpacked because, well, I want to move already.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt but stopped, the fabric sitting uncomfortably against his damp skin. The sleeves were soaked too, probably had rained inside the cuffs of his jacket. “You mind if I take this off? It’s all soaked.”
She hesitated before speaking. “Sure, go ahead.”
He unbuttoned the vest first, holding her gaze. “It’d be nice to dry off before I leave. Maybe ride out the storm.” He cocked a grin, liking how her gaze didn’t waver while he unbuttoned the vest. “Only downside of having a Harley.”
“Yeah, well…I guess it beats walking home in the rain.” She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. Her breasts bunched nicely in the tight tank top and desire thrummed through him, hot and urgent. Dakota was all sorts of tempting and maybe the first girl in history to not fall over herself to give him what he wanted.
“I owed you, after what happened.”
She hefted with a laugh. “Well if we’re talking about payment, you owe me a little more than a ride for forcing me to witness murder.”
“When you say it like that, it sound so dramatic.”
“Well, it is dramatic.” Her voice was rimmed with tension. “But maybe this is normal for you.”
“It’s not normal, just unfortunate.” He laid his vest over the back of anther folding chair and got to work unbutton his shirt. The lone lightbulb in the kitchen hung from a wire above them, illuminating the room in harsh white light. Bo wasn’t an interior design guy, but even he knew this place needed some loving touches.
Dakota turned to the stove to watch the teapot. After a few moments, Bo said, “A watched kettle never boils.”
“Just giving you your space.”
He’d reached the last button and shrugged the shirt off. “Am I being indecent? I thought you’d already seen all this once today.”
She turned to look at him but yanked her head back to the teapot. Maybe she liked what she saw. He certainly worked to make his body a work of art. Hanging the shirt over the last free seat—she only had three chairs around her fold-up table—he sighed happily. Getting damp clothing off was a relief. Especially when in the company of a babe like Dakota.
His phone dinged and he fished it out of his pocket. A club brother, Turbo, had texted him: Hey man, just got word that those dudes were Demon Seed hires. They’re coming for you. Where R U? Lay low for now bro.
He sighed, pocketing the phone again. Fuck. He should have figured they were sent by Demon Seed. He’d ousted their president a few weeks ago in what had almost been a perfectly-hidden assassination, but something leaked somewhere along the way and word got back to their MC that it was a Burning Angels mission. His head was marked.
“What’s that sigh for? Another burnt angel?”
He furrowed a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She shrugged, reaching for two mugs in the cupboard. The insides were mostly bare, just a handful of mismatched cups and glasses in there. “I don’t know much about gangs like yours. But from what I’ve seen so far, it looks like a lot of drama and murder.”
“Well, yeah, then. More of that.” He gnawed at the inside of his lip, sliding onto a stool at the countertop facing into the kitchen. “Listen, I need to ask you a favor.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What’s that?”
“I need to stay here.”
“That’s not asking me a favor, that’s giving me a command.”
He tutted. “Fine. Can I please stay here?”
“Why?”
He smoothed his palms over the countertop. “I need to lay low. They found out those guys that attacked me were part of Demon Seed—“
“Who the fuck is Demon Seed?”
“It’s a rival club.” He paused when he caught her disbelieving glare. “I know, the name is…whatever. But we’ve had beef for a while. And they’re coming after me.”
“Oh, and so you want to take refuge here?” She scoffed, pointing to the door. “The place where you said anybody could break in?”
“They’ll never know I’m here,” Bo said. “I swear. You’re not on the radar. This is a safe zone.”
She looked at him like he’d just suggested she gnaw through her own leg. “Um, no. That’s ridiculous. You can wait here and dry off but you’re not spending the night.”
Frustration zipped through him. “Come on. If you send me back out there and they find me? My blood is on your hands.”
Her mouth was a thin line as she took in his words. “Ugh. Why do you have to put it like that?”
“Because it’s true.”
“You seriously don’t have anywhere else to go?”
“Darlin’, if I did, I’d be there. All my usual spots are marked. They know where I go.”
Her eyes fluttered shut as she brought her fingers to the point between her eyebrows. “Fine.”
He drummed his fingers on the countertop, gaze skating around the room. If he was gonna be here a while, then he might as well get comfortable. “Hey, would you mind if I took a shower?”
Something like shock slid over her face but she cleared her throat, snapping off the heat just as the kettle started to whistle. “Uh, sure. I don’t have any clothes for you.”
“It’s okay. I just wanna get under some warm water.” And possibly you, later.
She poured two steaming tea mugs and then offered him one, narrowing her eyes at him. The look in her eye told him she knew exactly what he’d been thinking. And if that was the case…they had a very interesting evening ahead of them.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dakota compulsively blew on her tea once Bo disappeared into the bathroom. Being so near to him ratcheted up her nerves in a way she couldn’t quite understand. Somewhere between anxiety and a high school crush. This guy was bad…badder than anyone she’d ever met. So why was it also so hot to see the holster of his gun peeking out of the back of his pants when he strutted into the bathroom? That should make her worry, not feel titillated.
Bo was bad. She’d do well to remember that too, especially now that he’d be here for an unexpected sleepover.
The bathroom door creaked open and she jumped. Bo poked his head out, grinning like a devil.
“Hey, can you help me turn the shower on?”
She arched a brow. “Seriously?”
He opened the door, revealing his glorious torso. He clutched the tiny guest towel around his waist, the slit of the towel revealing muscled thighs. Her breath evaporated and she walked to the bathroom, averting her gaze. Look away. Be strong.
“It’s a new shower,” he said, stepping aside so she could enter. “There’s a learning curve.” In the tiny square of space in t
he bathroom, his energy loomed potent and more powerful than ever. She almost wilted before him, under the heat of his gaze.
“It’s cute how you act dumb just so I’ll come help you,” she said, reaching into the shower to snap the water on. It really was a little confusing—maybe he’d been asking seriously. But it reeked of a ploy he had no problem playing up.
“Jeez,” he said, but the smirk betrayed his amusement. “Tough crowd.”
She tested the water, forcing her gaze from sliding back to the flat plane of his chest. “Do you like the water warm or hot?”
“Mmm,” he tilted his head as he thought. “Hot.”
She blushed, hoping he didn’t notice, and adjusted the center knob. “Okay. That should do it.”
“Thanks, Dakota.” His voice was silky smooth, setting her skin on fire. She steeled herself to meet his gaze and looked up at him, bowled over by the masculinity radiating off of him, the intense heat of him, the boyish edge to his grin.
“Well, enjoy your shower.”
“Oh, I will.” He grinned, and she couldn’t force herself to exit the bathroom. Like his eyes were magnet, and her body was pure ferrite. “Would you like to join?”
She tried to laugh but it sounded forced. I want to join more than anything else in the world. Her nipples hardened to two tight points and she was grateful for the extra padding of her bra to hide it from him. Surely he’d use that information to his advantage.
“I’ll wait until you’re done,” she said.
“What a shame.” The corner of his mouth turned up and then he dropped his towel. It crumpled around his feet and her heart raced as she forced herself to hold his gaze. Bo, you’re too good at this. How am I supposed to resist you? She forced a grin and turned to leave, but not before her gaze flitted southward, just for the quickest glance.
She hurried out of the bathroom and shut the door behind her, heart pounding in her ears. She held the knob for a few moments, half-expecting him to come out after her, but when he started humming she knew the danger had passed. He was in the shower, and she was safe against his insane sexual energy.
But for how long? The man was a god—there was no other way to put it. His body looked like he spent hours at the gym, with rolling hills for biceps and the tight squares of a six-pack. And between the legs, even limp, he had a cock that made her whimper. Tightly controlled scruff around the base, heavy balls that screamed manliness.
He made her drool, and made her want to see how those arms might feel squeezing tight around her. She’d already felt the hardness of his torso in her arms, and hell if that didn’t make her thighs clench around the seat like a vice grip.
Fuck, Bo. Her pussy pulsed just thinking about it and she shook her head, taking a sip of scorching hot tea. She swore, sitting the mug down, resorting to pacing the living room. Each second stretched past like an hour. Could she concoct some emergency need to take her into the bathroom? Going in there was a bad idea—it was the worst idea—but damnit, she wanted to. Especially since she was positive Bo would lead things exactly to that outcome she desperately wanted to indulge.
The water snapped off after an excruciatingly long time. Oh, to be the bar of soap in her shower. Tripping over the ridges of those abs…exploring the fascinating arcs of his ass and arms…
She jumped when the door creaked open. She hurried back to the mug, trying to look natural. “Everything okay in there?”
“Oh yeah. It just got a little steamy in here.” He laughed. “Thinking about you.”
She bit at her palm, trying to squelch the girlish squeal that threatened to escape. Motherfucker knew how to press buttons and get what he wanted. This had to be a sport for him.
“Too bad for you those will only be fantasies.” Hotness aside, Bo wasn’t the type of guy to get involved with. Not even for a more-than-likely incredibly satisfying one night stand. “I’m sure you have plenty of women in line to service you in whatever way you need, so…contact one of them.”
“Yeah, but none of them are you.”
The door opened and he strutted out of the bathroom, towel around his waist. The curve of his calves yanked at her attention, forcing her to set the mug down. One time couldn’t hurt. It had been so lonely getting acclimated to a new place—she deserved a hot night of passion. Stop it, Dakota. “Too bad.”
He grinned, running a hand through his damp hair. It stuck up at funny angles and she smirked. She could almost, almost imagine him as just a regular guy. Not the half-cocked hellion gang member he’d proven himself to be over the past couple of hours. And part of her was intensely curious to know more about him, even though everything in her told her to stay away.
“You should put clothes on,” she said, sipping at her tea.
“Why, are you tired of ogling me already?”
She laughed. “It would be a shame if you spilled your tea and burnt yourself.” She paused, waiting for the right timing. “Don’t want another burnt angel today.”
He snagged her gaze, the smile on his face making her knees go weak. “All right. Your house, your rules.” He sauntered back into the bathroom and came out a moment later in his pants. He came to the countertop again, foregoing the shirt.
“It’s still drying,” he said, cupping the mug. Like he could hear her thoughts.
“Right.” She acknowledged her own discomfort in damp clothes, and craved a shower too, but what if he somehow conned himself into the bathroom with her? She might not be able to stop her fingers from dragging over the divine arcs and dips of his body. From tracing the fascinating lines of his art. From smoothing over the damnably tempting tuft of hair leading down from his belly button.
“So. What should we do for the sleepover? Got any ideas?”
A few. Most involving sweaty friction and screams of pleasure. “Eh, I was thinking I could paint your nails. Do your hair. Put in some braids right around here.” She motioned toward the longer part of his hair in front, where it was drying into waves. “Get that rock-solid biker look going.”
He cracked a grin. “I’d let you.”
She arched brow. “Really?”
“For a price.” He shrugged, sipping at the tea. “Maybe you can guess what that is.”
A long sigh escaped her. “Yes, Bo, I’m sure it has something to do with sex. So no, if that’s the price, we won’t be painting your nails.”
He looked pleased with himself. “I’m just saying, we can if you want to.”
She rolled her eyes, heading to the couch. She settled into the corner and reached for the remote. “Want to watch some TV?”
He came to the couch as well, sitting on the far edge, like showing her how he could be a normal human being. Or maybe that was just her wishful thinking. “Whatever. It’s your place, darlin’.”
“Yours now too, apparently.” She scrolled through the guide channel, flipping over all the useless sports channels and paid movie options. Her phone dinged quietly on the arm rest of the couch—Red had been sending messages, asking if she was all right, begging her to please reconsider quitting. She wouldn’t be answering those texts—not past the perfunctory “I’m home” message she’d sent. She needed time to figure out how she felt about Ink Works. Besides, Bo was enough of a distraction right now. He snorted as she scrolled through the porn section.
“Busty Biker Babes Volume 18,” he said, sipping at the tea like a goddamn mirage at the end of her couch. He’d literally killed a man only hours before, and now he was shirtless in her apartment drinking rooibos. Something had gone seriously awry with the planets if this was now her reality.
“I bet you have experience with busty biker babes,” she mused, paging up to find the normal channels. “Aren’t you surrounded by pussy all the time?”
“If I wanna be, yeah.” His voice held a sexy edge to it, one that made her heart race. “Some girls like the biker thing. Can’t hold it against them.”
“Not all of them,” she said, glancing over at him.
“Yeah, the
ones that aren’t into it are my favorite.” He grinned, the square of his jaw snagging her gaze. “I’ve always been partial to tatted ladies…pin-up girls…that kind.”
So exactly her. “Ah.” She struggled to measure the space between words, so he didn’t catch that she was flustered. “You certainly weren’t a fan of them earlier today when you found out Tony was gone.”
“Yeah, but that was different.” He reached out to touch her ankle, where her feet were tucked off to the side. The brush of his fingers against her skin made her inhale sharply. Bad sign. “I was pissed about something else. I wasn’t thinkin’ right.”
Wild & Free: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Burning Angels MC) (No Saints in Biker Hell Book 1) Page 4