“If you weren’t going to fuck me tonight, then what was your play?” she asks. Her question has me hating myself more. What was I doing in the first place? I’m not gonna lie. Seeing her pick up the asshole was not a fucking easy pill to swallow, but it’s not like I have a claim on her. I’m not even sure I want to claim her, but my body reacted differently. It was as though it was on autopilot. Before I knew it, she was on the back of my bike and I was taking her home—again. I turn to face her, ready to lie and tell her it’s club business and I had to bring her home, but when I see her standing there, all sex and sass, and the biggest fucking temptation ever, something changes. I see something I haven’t seen in such a long time. A small glimmer of light.

The air around us becomes thick with tension and anger, lust and sexual need, but we’re both stuck in a stare-off.

“What happened to you?” she asks so gently it nearly breaks me. I don’t know how to respond. I’m lost in the question, and the silence of the moment as something passes between us. I don’t want her to know what I hide. I don’t want to talk about it, but I still take a step forward, my body disobeying my brain. This is going to be a mistake. I can already feel it, but if this woman wants to play, I’ll fucking play.

CHAPTER FOUR

Holly

“Sy?” I ask, confused by his sudden change. I step back again as he takes another step closer. “What are you doing?” My voice shakes as he steps past the threshold of my small apartment, kicking the door shut with a booted foot.

The tension in the room is building as we face one another. I’m confused. One minute, he’s looking so torn I had to ask the question, and the next, something snapped in him. My chest rises and falls as the anticipation of having him builds every second he stands inside my home. I don’t know if he’s teasing me, or what this is, but the look in his eyes is telling me he’s just as turned on as I am. Ever since the night at the shop last week I knew he was bad news, with an equally bad attitude; but as he stood in front of me in the hallway, fighting whatever he was fighting, I knew no matter how hard I tried to condemn him for it, I couldn’t. Now that I’m about to get what I want, what I’ve craved since I walked into Ink Me, I’m not so sure of myself.

He takes yet another step towards me.

“Wait,” I say, holding my hands up for no reason other than to get my breathing under control. The man is dangerous. He has me wanting him with just one look and he’ll probably have me coming apart with his touch. He steps closer as I step back, his eyes narrow at each one of my retreats. One step forward, one step back. Him the predator, me his prey.

“Sunshine,” I warn, feeling like I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. It was fun teasing him. Now as I retreat, I second-guess my play. My back reaches the wall, halting me in my escape. His grave face drops for a moment when he sees I have nowhere else to run, and then his hard, warm body presses up against me, pushing me further into the wall.

Getting on his bike tonight, I knew this was going to happen, but when he let me close the door, I was shocked. In one moment he looks at me like he could eat me, and the next it’s like he can’t get away quick enough.

“I’m going to ask this once, and once only.” His gravelly voice whispers precariously, and I’m beginning to worry I’ve messed with the wrong person. “You want this?” he asks, running his nose along my jaw, breathing me in. His short stubble rubs along my skin—the sensation mixing the right amount of pleasure with roughness. I nod as a tremor runs through me. I know I crave him. I know I need to have him more than anything.

“Fuck, I can smell how much you want it,” he declares, and then his mouth is on me in a brutal attack. I latch on while his hands come to my hair, snapping my head back in a sharp pull. I don’t know how far he’s going to let this go, but that doesn’t stop my leg from coming up and anchoring him to me, or grinding against him. The growl rolling from his mouth tells me he’s just as desperate as I am and for a brief second I think about pulling back, putting an end to what can only spell trouble for me. But his tongue dominates my mouth, connecting us on a level which unravels me. Holy shit, the angry man can kiss.

His hands loosen their grip from my hair and move slowly down my body to the hem of my dress. I know he’s about to break the kiss, know he has to if he wants me out of my dress, but even though I know it’s about to happen, I can’t stop the sigh of frustration when our connection is broken.

“Fuck, Holly,” he pants, pulling back from me. My lips feel bruised, but before I get a chance to touch them, he rips my dress up over my head, exposing me completely to him. My hands go to his cut, ready to strip him of his clothes, but his command stops me.

“No,” he says, shaking his head.

“What do you mean, no?” I question him, suddenly feeling vulnerable standing in my white matching panties and bra while he stands fully clothed.

“No, means no,” he repeats, taking my panties and ripping them between his fingers.

Fuck me. I don’t even care if he has destroyed my favorite panties with his bare hands. My need to have him inside me grows at his total act of dominance.

My hands go to my bra, unhooking the back and letting it fall from me. He steps back, shaking his head and taking in my naked body.

“It would help if you undressed,” I say, eager to know just how much of his body is tattooed. I want to feel it under my hands.