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Laughter burst from my chest, but my humor burned up with a surge of lust when I saw her staring at me with a bit of awe in her amber pools and her perfect lips forming a little O. I was suddenly dying to see those sexy lips wrapped around my cock.
I couldn’t just toss her over my shoulder like a caveman and fuck her on the nearest flat surface. I’d scare the fuck out of her and send her running. Her life had just swerved in another direction, and I needed to ease her into it.
“I’m impressed, beautiful. Mrs. Acker knows how to pick ’em. She mentioned that she liked you. She’s going to be pissed as fuck that I did exactly what she told me not to.”
“What…?” Brynn trailed off, looking confused.
“She expressly forbade me from scaring you away,” I told her with a self-deprecating smile.
“You’re…um”—she gulped and took a deep breath before starting over—“you’re my boss?”
I canted my head and thought for a second. “Well, not directly. You have a supervisor who answers to—”
“He called you Dash!” she gasped, and I frowned at the edge in her tone. “You own Dirt Dashers?!”
“Yes.”
“My boss…who cleans up after murders.”
I shrugged. “We do the normal stuff, too. If you’re worried you’ll be on one of the teams that work on the seedier cleans, that won’t happen.”
“Yes, but-but dang it! I need this job, but I don’t know if I can work for someone who—”
“Relax, beautiful,” I urged, rubbing up and down her thighs in a soothing motion. That time, I was sure about the shiver because I felt it beneath my palms. I wanted to smile, but her next words wiped away my amusement.
“Maybe I could do it. I just—”
“Not fucking happening,” I told her in a firm voice that made it clear I wouldn’t budge on the matter. “You won’t be cleaning anything for Dirt Dashers.”
Her face crumpled, and tears welled in her eyes, making panic tighten my chest. Why had that made her cry? I was going to take care of her so she didn’t have to work or help her find a better job. Did she really want to work for me so badly? That didn’t fit with how she’d been acting.
“Okay, well. I promise not to tell anyone anything. I’ll go…”—she cringed—“home now.”
“Yes, you will,” I stated before standing up and taking hold of her arm to help her to her feet. “I’m going to take you home. Let’s go.”
I picked up my helmet from where I’d dropped it on the table earlier, then guided her out back to where my bike was parked. My leather jacket was in one of my saddlebags. I took it out and held it up in front of her. Her eyes had gone wide as she realized what I was doing.
“I can’t put that on. How would I return it?”
“Didn’t you hear me when I said I was taking you home?”
She gasped and stared at my hog like it might bite her. I almost told her that nothing and no one would be biting her but me. “I can’t ride on that.”
“Yes, you can.” I shook the jacket a little as I held it up in front of her, indicating again that I wanted her to put it on.
“I’ve never…”
I grinned and didn’t wait any longer. I began putting the jacket on for her. “Another cherry I’ll be popping,” I murmured.
“What?”
I put my mouth to her ear and whispered, “You heard me, beautiful.” Then I dropped my helmet on her head and secured it.
I quickly explained what to do while we were on the road, and she nodded when I asked if she understood. She still looked scared, but there was also a spark of interest in her amber eyes that had me biting back a smile.
After straddling my bike, I helped her climb up behind me and brought her arms around my torso. “Hold tight, beautiful,” I warned her, holding in a groan when she scooted forward and plastered her body against mine while she wound her arms around as much of me as she could reach.
I kicked up the stand and guided the bike to the exit onto the main highway. While we were stopped to check traffic, she yelled, “I live that way,” and pointed in the opposite direction of the clubhouse.
