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“It’s fitting.”
“How so?”
“Harleys are tough, ready for adventure, and full of beautiful curves.” He bit his tongue, wishing he could take back the last part, but it was too late. The words were already out there. “There’s no other like them.”
Harley’s teeth slid over her lip, toying with the plumpness. His eyes lingered as the image of her lips around his cock came to life in his mind. He swallowed, trying to ignore the desire rushing through him.
“You give me too much credit.” Her voice cut through the blood pounding through his ears.
“Not at all,” he managed.
“I’m not adventurous.”
“You moved across the country to work for me. I would call that very adventurous.”
“I did that because I was running. I might have stopped running, but I’m still hiding.”
“You have no reason to hide.” He stepped toward her before he could stop himself. His hand lifted, as if he was no longer in control of his own body, and brushed her hair behind her ear. “All those people can fuck off.” He left his hand there, not wanting to break the connection, wanting to hold on for as long as he could.
Her eyes glossed over, but she cleared her throat and swallowed them back. “Before I came here, I was so alone, and I know I’ve only been here for a short while, but it’s the most accepted I have felt in a very long time.”
“Didn’t you have a long list of clients and appointments?”
“I did, but those people didn’t care to know the real me. They loved my work, but they only loved me for who they wanted me to be to them. The person I pretended to be on social media. I played into it.”
“I’d like to get to know the real you.”
“You already are. I’ve only ever been myself with you.”
“I still feel like there’s a piece of you I’m missing. Something you’re holding back.”
Her chest rose and fell at his words. “My confidence,” she all but whispered. A tiny smirk passed over her lips. “My social media persona was all about being this tattooed sex symbol, and while it was all an act, I’m not one to sleep around, despite what they think. I did share that confidence. I was proud of my body. Proud of how I looked. But the trolls… they took that away from me. They managed to do what no diet or exercise could ever do for me. They made me small.”
“Then don’t let them win.”
“I wish it were that easy.”
“I know it’ll take time. But you, Harley Love, have every right to be confident.” Her gaze dropped down to her body, and he lifted her chin. “Not just for your body, which I have to admit you can stake your confidence on that alone, but you are so much more than that.”
Her smile was slight, but managed to light up the night. His head tilted toward her. The air electrified, invisible sparks erupting around them. His hand fell, and he stepped back. “We should go.”
She closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds. “Right.”
Disappointment streaked across her face, and he wondered if he should have just said fuck it and kissed the hell out of her. Or maybe he was looking too far into it. Maybe she was grateful he stopped himself before he made their employer and employee relationship awkward.
Fucking hell. He never overthought anything when it came to women. If a woman was willing, he’d welcome it, but Harley was different. She wasn’t only his employee, she was a woman who had been taken advantage of, humiliated, and he’d be damned if he’d make her feel an ounce of what that bastard made her feel.
He just needed to get his shit together. He grabbed his helmet and placed it on her head. His finger slid against her soft skin as he fastened the buckle. God, she looked sexy as hell with her black and purple hair brushed back beneath the helmet, her onyx eyes focused on him completely.
He jumped on the bike and smiled over his shoulder. “Hold on.”
Her fingers glided across his stomach, and his abs tightened at the contact. Every thought of how he could take her right there battled in his head, flashing from one erotic scene to the next.
Air. He needed air. He revved the engine and took off, only to realize there was no amount of air in the world that could cleanse his thoughts.
Chapter 6
Harley held onto Garrett, ignoring the hard muscles beneath her fingertips. Or at least trying to ignore. It was damn near impossible, and all she wanted to do was slip her hands beneath his shirt and feel every hard ridge. She wanted to blame the thought on the limoncello, but the truth was, she was having those thoughts way before alcohol entered the picture.
