My eyes widen as he pulls out a hunting knife. Then widen more as he strips off his boots, his belt, and starts cutting through his jeans. I can’t look away.
“I have a weird feeling this prank’s gonna backfire on you,” Ria whispers at my side.
“Tiny lady, let’s go inside,” Tank mutters, trying to grab Ria’s arm, but she dodges him fast.
“Shut up, Tank,” she hisses. “If I want to watch the show, I’ll watch the damn show. You can leave.”
“Shit,” Mindfuck wheezes as he steps out of the clubhouse and joins us. “It worked. I can’t believe it worked. He stayed on his bike all day?”
“Yeah,” I breathe, still watching Ghost cut through his pants. “Parked in front of Ria’s coffee shop the whole time.” I frown. “Ria fed him.” I glance at her. “Ria, uh… the food was edible, right?”
She huffs, pretending to be offended. “Not everything I serve is poisoned, Princess. Besides, Ghostberry has a freaky sixth sense about that shit. He wouldn’t have eaten it if I’d messed with it.”
“I had a stomach ache after that muffin you gave me,” Tank mutters to himself, tone suspicious.
“Not my fault,” Ria says flatly.
I suck in a breath when Ghost gets off his bike. Pantsless. Fuck! He was going commando. His thigh muscles flex and instantly, goosebumps ripple across my skin. He grabs his boots but doesn’t bother putting them on. He starts walking.
Domino whistles low and cheeky. Ghost freezes.
“Take my bike to Joker,” he barks, eyes narrowing at Domino. “Then come to my office.”
“Got it, boss,” Domino chuckles, already moving, but Ghost is done with him.
His gaze is back on me. Laser-focused. Intense. He starts walking again, each step slow, deliberate. I suddenly feel like a small, innocent rabbit. And he’s the big, bad wolf, ready to sink his fangs into my furry little tail.
He stops so close I have to tilt my head back to look up at him.
“Do you have a Band-Aid, adorable? I just scraped my ass falling for you even deeper,” he murmurs, voice dark and smooth.
My hackles instantly rise. “Did you really just say that to me?” I bite out, completely outraged.
An infuriating smirk plays at the corner of his lips.
“I sure did,” he says, tone laced with an unspoken dare.
“Ria, hold my cat,” I order, handing little Gary to her without breaking eye contact with the jerkface in front of me.
Gary meows, and when Ria takes him, I hear her whisper-yell “Ow!”. She’ll be fine. I’ve got shit to do.
I plunge my hand into my messenger bag and — luckily — land right on what I need. I pull out the Coke I forgot to drink earlier and, still locked on Ghost’s eyes, I start shaking it.
His smirk widens into a full-blown smile. He doesn’t move. I glare. Such a cocky bastard.
I take a step back and pop the can open, right in his face. It explodes. Catches me too, but the bulk hits him. Mindfuck, Tank, and Ria jump away just in time.
Ghost starts chuckling as he wipes his face, dragging a hand down his jaw. Then he leans forward, eyes narrowed.
“Next time you want to see my cock, adorable, just ask. No need to glue me to my bike.” With those final words, he walks away. Blue, half-naked, and soaked in soda. Cock swinging proudly.
I’m ashamed to admit it — I peek. At his ass, too.
“What the fuck just happened?” Mindfuck says a few seconds later, blinking fast. “I’m both confused and horny. That Band-Aid pickup line… what kind of bullshit was that?”
“It was the first thing he ever said to me,” I whisper.
“He learned it from me. I taught him all my pickup lines when I was prospecting,” Tank declares proudly.
