Page 20 of Diary of a Biker Queen

It wasn’t.

Luca stumbled out of a bedroom a couple of doors down from mine, a pair of sweatpants so low on his hips it showed off the V-lines either side of his abs. His hair was sleep tousled, and he rubbed at his face, like he’d literally rolled straight out of bed and was barely even awake before he’d found himself in the hallway.

I stood there like a chump, paste foaming around my lips, and trying not to choke on the drool that formed over Luca Guerra walking around in gray sweatpants like my own living, breathing book boyfriend come to life.

I wasn’t big on reading. Had a bit too much energy for sitting still for long periods of time. But Violet loved smut, and she’d told me all about the “guys in gray sweatpants” fantasy.

I didn’t need to imagine. Luca was it. I’d gotten so used to seeing him in suits and ties that it literally stopped me in my tracks to see him dressed like a normal person.

Like he could feel me watching him, his gaze met mine.

For an instant, the chemistry always there between us flared so hot it felt like it was searing me alive. Melting me to the spot so I couldn’t move.

Then Luca smirked at me with that arrogant smile he’d had permanently etched into his face, back before he’d taken his father’s punishment for me and I’d realized he was actually a decent human being.

He stopped in front of me. “Washing Dax’s cum out of your mouth, princess?”

I practically choked on my toothbrush.

But then a red-hot anger flushed through me, and I stuck my head back into the bathroom and spat out the white foam. It pissed me off that I had to rinse my mouth before I could give Luca a serving of his own sarcastic wit.

By the time I looked up, he was in the bathroom doorway, all tanned skin and dark-eyed gaze running over every inch of me, from my bare legs to the toothpaste I probably still had at the corners of my mouth.

He kicked the door shut behind him and turned on the shower.

My brain short-circuited so long over the muscles moving across his back, rippling beneath his skin, that he had pulled the drawstring on his sweatpants and dropped them around his ankles before I could react.

I clapped a hand over my eyes. “What the hell are you doing!” I hissed at him. “Put your pants back on!”

He did no such thing. In fact, he stepped out of them, which I knew because even with my hand over my eyes, I was one-hundred-percent peeping.

“Hard to have a shower with pants on.” He stepped beneath the spray.

And fuck me, my hand dropped away from my eyes entirely, like it had a mind of its own. I gave up any sense of resistance and stared at his back and ass and the toned muscles of his thighs that were only better for having water sluicing down them.

He ducked his head beneath the water, wetting his hair, and then turned around.

I was still watching him.

He had no shame, and he knew full well what he was doing. His gaze met mine again, and I realized the anger and hurt I’d seen in him last night was being masked by the arrogance he shielded himself with.

I owed this man an apology. More than one. I owed him groveling and falling at his feet to beg his forgiveness. He’d saved me in more ways than one, and all I’d done was betray him. He had every right to hate me. Every right to make me pay for the sins and the guilt I now had to live with.

“Luca,” I started, voice soft.

He cut me off with harsh words. “You should be happy. You got everything you wanted, right?”

I knew what he meant. I was wearing Dax’s shirt. Everyone in the clubhouse had probably heard us last night. Everyone including Luca.

But he was wrong. I didn’t have everything I wanted.

Because a very big part of me wanted him. I let myself openly stare as he lathered his body up with soap, his fingers running over his arms and his chest, washing away the dirt and sweat and grime of the last twenty-four hours.

“Not everything,” I said quietly.

Surprise flared in his eyes, but it was gone just as quickly. He shook his head, his lip pulling up into a sneer. “What more do you want, princess? You got your man. You’ve got his baby. You no longer have to marry my dad or pretend you want me.” He stared at me; his eyes hard. “What more do you fucking want?”

I heard the pain in his voice. He couldn’t hide it, even though he clearly wanted to.