What the fuck is going on? How have I let him in my house? A stranger and a biker! A biker who I’m far too attracted to and am losing all sensible thought around.
I swung my legs down, jumping off the counter, preparing to grab the phone or maybe a weapon of some sort. I was not prepared for the blinding pain in my heel, the pressure I was putting on it pushing the glass further in.
“Ouch,” I hissed.
“Whoa there, sweetheart.”
Cade’s hands circled my waist, lifting me back up into my previous position. I ignored the tingle where his hands met my skin.
“Probably not the best idea, trying to walk with glass embedded in your foot.”
“Well, I think it’s probably a worse idea having a biker, whom I don’t know, in my house in the middle of the night, so I was going for the lesser of two evils,” I hissed.
“Now, baby, I ain’t evil, well not at the moment anyway.” His eyes flared. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he told me firmly and moved to the end of the counter to look at my foot, bending down to get a closer look.
His hand gently touched the injured area and I flinched away from his touch.
Gray eyes met mine.
“I told you I’m not going to hurt you. I’m gonna get you fixed up.”
For some strange reason, maybe the wine, or more likely blood loss, I believed him, relaxing into his touch.
“That’s it, baby.” He watched me for a second then went back to inspecting my foot. “Yup, that’s in there pretty good,” he muttered while grabbing some tweezers and antibacterial wipes out of the kit. “This is going to hurt.”
“I think I can handle it.”
“It’s in pretty deep and I’ll have to use antibacterial spray, that stuff hurts like a bitch,” he said while studying my first aid kit.
“Yes, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of experience in disinfecting, with stab wounds and bullet holes.” I scowled at the top of his head.
“Oh, yeah, baby, you can only imagine what I have to deal with. I just don’t want to hurt you.”
His rugged face was surprisingly tender, inspecting my face while cradling my foot in his two giant hands. You know what they say about big hands…wait, Gwen, focus!
“I’ve had worse,” I snipped, failing to hide the slight shudder in my voice from the closeness of this male who was having such a disturbing effect on me. I focused on my foot, which hurt like a bitch, but I suffered through it and tried to take my mind off it by interrogating Cade.
“What in hell are you doing outside my house in the middle of the fricking night anyway?” I asked, crossing my arms, mentally congratulating myself for bringing up such a sensible topic.
“Just doing my part for the neighborhood watch, baby,” he replied without looking up.
“Yeah and pigs might fly. Seriously, why are you skulking outside my house? For the second time in twenty-four hours.” Even as I relayed this information, I realized I should have been peeing myself right now, this was like stalker behavior 101. “And don’t call me baby,” I commanded as an afterthought.
“My buddy lives across the road, well for one more night at least. I was picking something up tonight, happened to see you on the porch,” he explained, sounding far too reasonable.
“I think my stalker theory is more believable.”
He didn’t reply, I stared intently at the top of his head, his midnight black hair falling around his face and to his shoulders. I didn’t normally like any kind of long hair on a guy, but man, he worked it. His broad shoulders and muscles strained his shirt, thick veins almost pulsing out of his arms. The tattoos covering his arms captivated me for a moment. I thought about those arms wrapped around me, of feeling his electric touch all over my body, and the wetness between my legs came back.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Until now, the thought of any man touching me was repulsive and scared the shit out of me. But it was like my body was finally waking up — with a vengeance.
The irony was not lost on me that it was yet another dangerous man wearing a leather cut who turned me on. I had a serious problem. Why couldn’t I be attracted to a nice accountant with a paunch and a bald spot, someone whose worst crime would be to fashion?
During my mental turmoil, Cade had finished nursing me and had began stroking my ankle, the animal look back on his face. I realized I was sitting on a counter, in a slinky kimono with an even slinkier nightie underneath. Damn my addiction to seductive nightwear.
“Gwen,” Cade growled, the primal tone of his voice sent shivers down my spine. He straightened, and I swung by legs back down as he moved to stand in front of me, stopping between my legs, his crotch dangerously close to mine. Gulp. He kept staring at me as his hand cupped my cheek.
“You are fucking beautiful,” he whispered.
I stared back at him dumbly, unable to think of anything to say. Work brain!
“So goddamned beautiful I want to kill whoever put all that fear behind those eyes,” he declared fiercely.
I jumped, his words waking me from my mental coma. How could he say this? He doesn’t know me, we haven’t even had a proper conversation.
“You need to leave. Like, now,” I ordered coldly.
“Baby—”
“I told you, don’t call me that,” I snapped. “Now, I thank you for helping me with my foot, even though it was your fault I cut it in the first place. I would appreciate it if you would get out of my house and do not come by here again.” I was rather proud at how even and authoritative my voice sounded.
“I’m sorry about your foot, baby, I really am, but I’m not sorry that it meant I got to touch your skin, or get close enough to know how fucking good you smell.” Shivers ran down my spine yet again. He didn’t miss my reaction — he tugged my head towards him, his mouth inches away from mine.
“And fuck if I am going to taste you, Gwen, every inch of you. But not tonight, you need to get some sleep and rest your foot. I will be round here again, not in your kitchen but in your bed.” His voice was firm, he was obviously someone who was used to getting what he wanted.
I yanked my head away from his, fighting both fear and arousal. “I am not some biker groupie who will drop her panties at your say so. I have something that you’re probably not familiar with women, you fuck, something called self-respect. So don’t flatter yourself into thinking I’m attracted to you, and I don’t get how you think it’s appropriate to say something that vulgar to a woman you barely know, but trust me, it’s not.”
Cade gave an attractive chuckle. “We both know that isn’t true. I can bet your panties are dripping right now, ‘cause I can’t be the only one feeling this.” He gestured between us.
“I assure you any attraction you feel is one-sided,” I lied. My nose was going to be as big as Pinocchio’s at this rate. “Now please leave.”
“This ain’t one-sided and you know it,” Cade murmured roughly. “You are going to be mine, on my bike, and in my bed.”
Without another word, just another intense stare, he turned to leave.
“Don’t hold your breath…oh no, wait, please do,” I called sweetly to him.
He stopped, fixating on the alarm panel beside the door. “I want the door locked, and this armed after I leave.”