My fingers slip into my pocket and curl around my knife before I fully register the movement. I flip it open, then close it, the soft click loud in the space between us as I stare at her.
How dare she say something so vile?
The audacity of this bitch.
See, this is what happens when Tomcat warms his wiener in random buns. He never knows when to keep it in his pants. I mean, look at how he acted at the diner just because I didn’t fall at his feet when he flirted with me.
Did he honestly expect me to be jealous over his usual antics? His spark plug was faulty, that’s all. How tragic for him.
He’s a ho, always has been, always will be. That’s just one more reason he’s in the friend zone.
Another notch in that belt, I will not be.
Oh, no.
Nope.
I’m aiming forforeverwith my pretty monster.
A choked sound pulls me back. The woman is staring at the knife now, eyes wide, feet already edging away.
“Oh. Ohhhh.” I giggle, genuinely amused. “No need to look so scared. It’s just protection.” I close the blade and slide it back in my pocket, all smiles. “See? No need to look at me like I’m going to cut your tongue out or something.”
She spins on her heel and hurries away, muttering under her breath.
I watch her go, head tilted.
Huh.
Was it something I said?
Chapter Five
Therumbleofpipesrattles the diner windows, the vibration skittering through the glass just as a single headlight coasts into the lot.
My heartbeat staggers and crashes, wild and unsteady against my ribs.
I glance at the clock above the door, a sly smile tugging at my lips.
Right on time.
Since I started here, Tomcat refuses to let me leave alone after dark. He hangs back as I close, circling like a watchful beast pretending he’s just there for company. Then I climb onto his bike, molding myself to his solid frame, arms locked tight as he carries me home. The ride is always over too soon. Just short enough to leave me aching, just long enough to spark a thousand shameless fantasies.
As far as I know, I’m the only woman who has ever ridden behind him. Maybe I should carve my name into the seat. You know. Just to be safe.
That wouldn’t be too much, would it?
Tomcat swings off his bike, his eyes finding mine through the hazy glow of the parking lot lights, stealing the breath from my lungs. A white t-shirt strains obscenely across his chest, clinging to those thick arms with shameless intent. His kutte drapes over his shoulders, blond hair tucked beneath a black cap.
My gaze devours him, slow and hungry, stopping where his jeans grip his thighs.
God. I’d give anything to feel those muscles flex bare under my palms.
Heat twists hot and thick in my belly. I bite down on my bottom lip, pulse roaring as my thoughts careen into the dirtiest territory I know.
When I finally drag my gaze up, his eyes collide with mine through the glass—starving, desperate, absolutely relentless.
My stomach somersaults as he reaches up, fingers curling around his hat, pulling it off with torturous slowness. My pulse roars as his fingers rake through his hair, then he spins the cap and settles it on his head.
