He didn’t answer, so I continued—handing Aiden whatever clever thing I could find from a knife to a drill—until that seemed to change his mind and he finally said something.
By the end, we found out the Order was a group of rich men who loved to help each other, that Anderson was a member, and that he really wasn’t anything more than a messenger—none of the other members trusted him with more than a few tasks here and there.
We even had a name for the man who seemed to run the show.
Frank Patterson.
Which I could only assume was the same Patterson, F. that I had come across before.
By the time Hero and Mason were dragging the body out, I was satisfied with what we had learned, but my mind was far away from any worries or work or answers I was after.
My attention was fully on the man in front of me.
Sweat glistened on his tattooed chest, his jeans hanging off his hips low enough to show how far down his muscle went. He stood up straight, rolling his shoulders as his dark expression turned to me.
It barely took the one look before heat flooded my body. It felt like every cell was on fire, begging for him to put it out.
But Aiden already knew. He knew the second he looked over at me.
Because Aiden knew me, and even if it was a new thing between us, he knew exactly what I wanted right now.
“Come on,” he said, nodding toward the front of Maverick Moto, now closed.
“What do you want?”
“I need help. Come on.”
It was our normal banter, the hint of anger making no one think twice as I stomped after him.
The door slammed shut behind us, but he didn’t say a word.
Before I could say anything, my back slammed against the wall, Aiden lifting me until my feet were off the ground.
“You like ordering me around,” he said, his voice low and rough.
“Yes. It’s even more fun when it’s violent.”
He bit my lip, his arm wrapped around my back, forcing me to arch into him harder.
“Little psycho girl likes to boss people around,” he whispered. “Such a little angel who loves people spilling blood for her.”
“Am I an angel or a psycho, Aiden? Get your names straight.”
“You’re a sweet, beautiful angel who is going to sink those nails in and drag me right to hell like a psycho.”
His free hand caressed my side before he positioned his thigh between my legs.
I ground down, needing some sort of friction before I screamed.
“Please, Aiden.”
“Please what? You’re doing perfect, Angel. Get off on me. Show me how bad you want my cock and I’ll give it to you later.”
“I don’t think you get to be the one making demands,” I said, my teeth grinding together.
“I think I do when you’re humping my leg to get off.”
My cheeks burned in embarrassment. My hands flew to his chest, trying to push him away.
