me, probably searching for any truth to my words. His eyes are a startling grey colour that I never really paid much attention to until right now and on further inspection there is a perfect circle of deep blue around his irises. I get lost in them, but I’m still able to feel something pass between us. Something nameless but powerful.
I hastily remove my hand from his leg, and he breaks eye contact to look down at the spot it just occupied.
“Come on, I’ll buy you a pint. It’s the least I can do for making you put up with my driving and my teasing.”
In my haste to get out of the car, I catch my foot on the lip of the door, and it jars my leg painfully. I give out a yelp of pain but manage to right myself before I topple to the ground.
Harry is out of the car in seconds and rushing around to my side.
“Did you hurt yourself? Let me take a look at your leg.”
“No!”
My single word reply is delivered harshly and with panic.
He notices and hesitantly steps away.
I curse under my breath and shake my head slightly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bite your head off, I’m fine. I promise.”
I don’t want to him to find out yet.
I’m not ready for him to find out yet.
I like the way he looks at me; I’m not ready to lose that.
I reach back into the car for my bag and sling it over my shoulder, taking the few seconds breathing space to compose myself.
Why am I getting flustered about all this?
I’ve never hidden myself from anyone, never felt a reason to. Why do I want to now?
When I emerge from the car, I spin around with a blatantly fake smile on my face. “Let’s go and introduce you to Bear.”
Harry’s face instantly drops, and I can’t resist a little more teasing to lighten the mood. “Don’t be scared. He didn’t get his name because he bites; he’s more of a Grizzly Bear. I’m sure he’ll love you.”
I lower my voice and whisper conspiratorially, “Just don’t turn your back on him. It’s a sign of weakness within Riot.” I add a wink, more to conceal my smile than anything else.
Harry’s face is a picture; I can only imagine what the guys are going to do to him when he walks in there with me.
I grip his hand in mine, smiling sweetly and add, “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”
I think his reply is something like, “I’m too young to die for a Bunny, no matter how hot she is,” but it’s whispered under his breath, so I pretend I didn’t hear him.
Still my stomach flips at the very thought of him thinking that I’m hot.
After all the teasing, the snapping at him when my stupid leg nearly landed me on my arse and then bringing him into a biker den, he still thinks I’m hot.
That makes me never want to let him find out. I want to play this game of normal forever.
But I can’t.
This isn’t my normal, and I’m not a bloody washing machine setting anyway.
Fuck normal.
It’s overrated.
M y heart is beating like a fucking steel drum.
My chest feels like it has a Calypso band playing a cheery version of Bob Marley’s I Shot the Sheriff, only my version goes, ‘Bikers shot Harry, but they did not shoot the Bunny Girl.’
Between the crazy and frankly, death-defying driving, which, for the record, was also quite hot, and the snake pit of a biker’s den she’s brought me to, I’m not surprised. In fact, it’s a miracle I haven’t had a clutcher.
The thought makes me put my free hand over my heart, absentmindedly checking that it is indeed, still beating. My other hand holds hers tightly, and I’m aware of how perfect it fits. How perfectly we could fit.
Oh, bloody hell. I’m thinking like a girl.
Man up, H. You’re about to head to certain death, and your head is filled with how nicely this girl’s hand feels in yours.
Idiot.
We approach the entrance and Lilah gives my hand a slight squeeze, before leading me through the open door. A door that is framed by two hanging baskets filled to the brim with an array of brightly
I hastily remove my hand from his leg, and he breaks eye contact to look down at the spot it just occupied.
“Come on, I’ll buy you a pint. It’s the least I can do for making you put up with my driving and my teasing.”
In my haste to get out of the car, I catch my foot on the lip of the door, and it jars my leg painfully. I give out a yelp of pain but manage to right myself before I topple to the ground.
Harry is out of the car in seconds and rushing around to my side.
“Did you hurt yourself? Let me take a look at your leg.”
“No!”
My single word reply is delivered harshly and with panic.
He notices and hesitantly steps away.
I curse under my breath and shake my head slightly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bite your head off, I’m fine. I promise.”
I don’t want to him to find out yet.
I’m not ready for him to find out yet.
I like the way he looks at me; I’m not ready to lose that.
I reach back into the car for my bag and sling it over my shoulder, taking the few seconds breathing space to compose myself.
Why am I getting flustered about all this?
I’ve never hidden myself from anyone, never felt a reason to. Why do I want to now?
When I emerge from the car, I spin around with a blatantly fake smile on my face. “Let’s go and introduce you to Bear.”
Harry’s face instantly drops, and I can’t resist a little more teasing to lighten the mood. “Don’t be scared. He didn’t get his name because he bites; he’s more of a Grizzly Bear. I’m sure he’ll love you.”
I lower my voice and whisper conspiratorially, “Just don’t turn your back on him. It’s a sign of weakness within Riot.” I add a wink, more to conceal my smile than anything else.
Harry’s face is a picture; I can only imagine what the guys are going to do to him when he walks in there with me.
I grip his hand in mine, smiling sweetly and add, “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”
I think his reply is something like, “I’m too young to die for a Bunny, no matter how hot she is,” but it’s whispered under his breath, so I pretend I didn’t hear him.
Still my stomach flips at the very thought of him thinking that I’m hot.
After all the teasing, the snapping at him when my stupid leg nearly landed me on my arse and then bringing him into a biker den, he still thinks I’m hot.
That makes me never want to let him find out. I want to play this game of normal forever.
But I can’t.
This isn’t my normal, and I’m not a bloody washing machine setting anyway.
Fuck normal.
It’s overrated.
M y heart is beating like a fucking steel drum.
My chest feels like it has a Calypso band playing a cheery version of Bob Marley’s I Shot the Sheriff, only my version goes, ‘Bikers shot Harry, but they did not shoot the Bunny Girl.’
Between the crazy and frankly, death-defying driving, which, for the record, was also quite hot, and the snake pit of a biker’s den she’s brought me to, I’m not surprised. In fact, it’s a miracle I haven’t had a clutcher.
The thought makes me put my free hand over my heart, absentmindedly checking that it is indeed, still beating. My other hand holds hers tightly, and I’m aware of how perfect it fits. How perfectly we could fit.
Oh, bloody hell. I’m thinking like a girl.
Man up, H. You’re about to head to certain death, and your head is filled with how nicely this girl’s hand feels in yours.
Idiot.
We approach the entrance and Lilah gives my hand a slight squeeze, before leading me through the open door. A door that is framed by two hanging baskets filled to the brim with an array of brightly
Similar Books
The World Beneath
Janice Warman
The Second Empress
Michelle Moran
Giant
Edna Ferber
The Lost World
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
The Rules of Seduction
Madeline Hunter
The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women
Tristan Taormino
Prophet
Mike Resnick
The Key (Heartfire)
Celeste Davis
Intercourse
Andrea Dworkin
Extreme Bull
Catt Ford