Abby
“What am I doing?” I mumble to myself, staring into the bathroom mirror as if my reflection might have the answers.
I run my hands under the faucet and pat them against my face. I’ve done this four times now, and it isn’t helping the blush on my cheeks to decrease at all.
It isn’t helping because I’m not hot. The rosy tint to my cheeks is all because of one very sexy, tatted biker who is currently perched on a barstool.
Sexy doesn’t even seem like an appropriate word to describe him. He is sinfully gorgeous.
From his messy light-brown hair and full beard to his full sleeve of tattoos running down his left arm, I want to rub myself over every inch of him. I’ve never, and I mean never, been this attracted to a man before.
Fuck. Get it together, Abs.
I groan, looking at myself in desperation in the mirror. “Help,” my eyes seem to plead. I haven’t gotten laid in far too long if this is how I react to the first attractive man I come across.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I instantly shoot it down. I’m not just drawn to Kane because he’s hot as hell—it has also been unnervingly easy to talk to him.
Based on his appearance alone, I never would have guessed he was this sweet.
Don’t ask me how I can already tell all of this about the man after spending only an hour with him, but I feel like I’ve known him for far longer.
I take a deep breath and grab a paper towel to pat my face dry. He doesn’t need to think I was sweating to death in here or something.
Speaking of which… I need to get back out there or him thinking I was sweating in here for this long will be the least of my worries. He’s far too hot to be contemplating my bathroom activities.
I smile, finding him sitting in the same spot where I left him. As if sensing me, he peeks over his shoulder. The slight tilt of his lips melts a piece of my heart.
I have a feeling he doesn’t give his smiles away freely, so being on the receiving end of one feels special.
“You stayed,” I say, sitting beside him. There’s a hint of surprise in my voice. I guess I half expected him to disappear while I was gone.
“I’m right where I want to be right now.” His eyes stay trained on me while he drains the rest of the whiskey in his glass.
It lands with a clink against the bar top when he sets it down.
“I am too.” My teeth drag across my bottom lip.
His eyes zero in on my mouth, heat blazing in his eyes. He visibly swallows before dragging his eyes up to meet mine. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and I can tell he’s contemplating something.
His voice is quieter than before when he finally speaks with a note of vulnerability in his words. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
It’s my turn to swallow through the tightness in my throat. There’s a softness in his eyes that makes me want to wrap my arms around him and hold him tight in hopes of shoving all his demons away.
He might be twice my size, but the urge to protect him burns inside of me.
“I don’t either.” I reach over, sliding my hand over his. “Come home with me?”
He blinks at me a few times, like he’s shocked I just asked him that. I have a brief moment of panic, thinking I said the wrong thing, before he gives a small nod.
“I want that more than pretty much anything.”
I give his hand a squeeze. “Then, let’s go.”
He pulls out some bills from his wallet and hands them to Benny before I can even attempt to pay for my drinks.
“Thank you.”
He just nods.
Benny grabs one of the disposable coasters and jots something across the back. He hands it over to Kane. “In case you ever need to talk again. I’m a pretty good listener.”
Kane’s eyes dart between the coaster and Benny a few times. “You are.” He slides the cardboard into the back pocket of his jeans. “Thanks, Benny. It was nice to meet you.”
“You too,” Benny says with a knowing look in his eyes.
I don’t know exactly what he knows, but it appears to be something. With that, he turns to make a drink for someone on the far end of the bar.
The cold air smacks me in the face when we step outside. It’s a good thing my house is only a few blocks away.
“We can walk to my place.” I point in the direction we need to go.
He nods, walking beside me. Without missing a step, he drapes his leather coat over my shoulders. “Why aren’t you wearing a fucking coat?” he asks.
That’s a good fucking question. I live in a town where winter lasts most of the year—owning plenty of coats shouldn’t be surprising.
Actually wearing one, though? That’s another story. Sometimes I have places to be, and a coat just doesn’t make the list.
I always make sure Maverick has one, but not so much for myself.
“I might be kind of bad at wearing coats.”
“But you have them.”
“Yes.”
“You just don’t wear them?” He really does sound confused. It’s kind of adorable.
“Yup.”
He shakes his head, but with the glow of the streetlights, I can see the smile on his face. I pick up my pace, wanting to get him out of the cold quicker, since he isn’t wearing a coat now.
I know it won’t do much to keep him warm, but I can’t help myself. I slide my hand against his, twining our fingers together.
His steps falter for half a beat while he turns to look at me. He sucks in a lungful of cool air before continuing on the sidewalk laid out before us.
Neither of us says anything for the rest of the walk, but his strong hand wrapped around mine is comforting.
“This is me,” I say, pointing to my small cottage-style house. I’d love something a little bigger for Mav and me someday, but for now, this is home. And it’s kind of perfect.
He doesn’t let go of my hand when we reach the door, so I maneuver it open with my free one.
The warmth from inside hits me as soon as I step into the living room. It’s almost painful against my chilled skin.
He closes the door behind us, clicking the deadbolt into place. His presence suddenly feels bigger than it did before.
The silence surrounding us does nothing to dull the man standing before me. If anything, it only amplifies it.
I don’t think I’ve ever held eye contact with anyone for this long, but I don’t ever want to look away. His blue eyes are holding me in chains I might beg to never be released from.
His thumb traces back and forth along the side of my hand, and I’m suddenly hyperaware of that spot.
I move to slide his coat off, but he stops me with a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Don’t.” It’s said only slightly louder than a whisper, but in the silent bubble we’re trapped in, it rings through my ears. “You look like mine.”
My tongue slides out, wetting my lips. “And that’s what you want?” I ask.
His hand slides from my shoulder to cup the back of my neck. Shivers race down my spine. “For tonight.”
There’s a brief flash of something in his eyes, like maybe he’s keeping himself from saying something else, but I can’t really tell.
He steps forward until my back hits the wall. His muscular body presses against mine, but I don’t feel caged. I feel free.
That really doesn’t make sense given how I’m literally trapped between him and the wall, but what can I say? My brain is a little loopy at the moment with all the lusty hormones racing around inside of me.
“Will you be mine tonight, sweetheart?” he asks, tilting his head until his forehead is a breath away from mine.
I quietly breathe out a “yes” when I really want to scream it from the rooftops.
“Good.” The words come out in a half growl, half whisper. Then his lips are on mine.
The kiss is gentle but all-consuming. His lips caress and tease against mine in a slow, sensual dance that makes my legs go a little shaky.
He finally releases my hand. It slides up the side of my body. I realize my own hands are just hanging limply at my sides.
I need to touch him.
My hands eagerly slide over his abs and chest. He lets out a sharp breath between kisses at the first contact. I might not be able to see his muscles, but I can sure as shit feel them.
His lips trail away from my mouth and across my jaw. He rests his forehead on mine as we both catch our breath.
I’ve never been kissed like that. Never. I can’t even formulate complete thoughts through the blissed-out fog he just lulled me into.
He opens his mouth to speak, and I think he’s going to say something about going to my bedroom. But he shocks me with, “Do you want to watch a movie?”
I would’ve jerked my head back in surprise if it weren’t already pressed to the wall. A small laugh escapes me as I ask, “A movie?”
He pulls back just enough for me to see his face. Even in the dim light, I catch the way it falls, ever so slightly.
“A movie is fine. I just thought…” My words trail off because I don’t know how to finish.
“I want that, too.” He pauses for a second, swallowing heavy. “I just want to hold you for a while.”
It’s a good thing I have a rib cage to support my vital organs because I’m pretty sure my heart just melted inside my chest. I run a hand over his face, stroking over his beard. “That’s more than okay.”
He leans down, pressing another kiss to my lips. As he pulls away, he nips at my bottom lip. “You can still be mine when we’re cuddling.”
“Counting on it,” I say, smirking up at him.
His smile is the sweetest victory. It makes my own smile grow even wider.
“You’re nothing like I expected,” I tell him.
“I think you’re exactly what I expected after that chaotic entrance at the bar.”
I huff out a laugh because he isn’t wrong. My parents always said I was a chaos monster growing up, and I might not have outgrown all of that.
I glance down at my scrubs. “I’ll go change.” I point out where the remote is on the coffee table, then dart into my room.
I spend a full three minutes debating what to wear that will be sexy but not look like I’m trying too hard. Eventually, I decide to just be myself. He’s seemed to like the real me so far, so who gives a flying fuck?