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I roll my eyes and subconsciously shake away my anxiety. It’s okay. Those guys aren’t going to hurt me…yet. Xander may protect me now, but what about in a day, a week, or a month from now when I’m sent back to that house? He doesn’t rule that club. From what I’ve gathered, Browning does and he’s an emotionless prick.
* * *
Xander leadsme into a nearly empty apartment, smelling of weed and cigarettes, and I take in my surroundings. The place is silent, other than the sound of Xander hanging up his vest in the closet by the front door, so I know we’re alone.
Relatively speaking, everything looks new and nearly untouched. It’s not dirty or unkept, but the black futon and red toolbox being used as a coffee table are the only things in the living room. No lamp or pictures. No TV either.
Who lives like this? Xander apparently. What the hell does he do to keep himself busy when he’s not with the club?
I gulp hard at the thought. My mouth dries and I have to lick my lips to get some moisture. I’m too nervous to even ask, but I have a feeling that I already know the answer to that question.
I wander down the hall and find a bedroom, a full-sized bed with crumpled green sheets sits alone in the room, but I see no sign that anyone other than Xander has been in here. This room isn’t as clean as the living room though. Clothes litter almost every inch of the floor and I find the bathroom door wide open. The mess continues but it’s towels within the small bathroom on the floor. Other than the dirty laundry everywhere, it’s clean so maybe it’s just time to get it all washed. Where the hell is the laundry basket? Why isn’t he using it?
I have so many questions regarding his cleanliness.
Xander comes in behind me and places my bags on the bed before his hazel eyes meet mine, curiosity lingering in his gaze. Does he see the questions in mine or is it something else he detects?
“Get settled in. Feel free to use the tub. I’m going to make some food,” he grumbles out the words, like having to say them at all is an irritation.
“Is there another bedroom or bathroom?” I ask when he turns to leave and I notice the way he stiffens. It’s not that I’m against using his bathroom, but it feels like I’m invading his space and that my presence here is a nuisance. It stings, but I just want to stay out of his way if he really is against me being here with him.
“It’s a one-bedroom apartment, darling, and there aren’t any other bathrooms.” He leaves the room without sparing me another glance.
“Thank you,” I whisper to the empty room, feeling utterly deflated. First, Dell broke up with me. Now, I’m not a sex slave for any of those misogynistic bikers to rape on a whim, but I seem to have somehow alienated my only ally since he protected me from those mongrels.
My life is a truly sad existence.
* * *
Freshly showeredand dressed in one of my pink sundresses, I emerge from the bathroom. Honestly, I never wanted to leave. The water pressure and temperature was much better than my apartment and his body wash smelled so much like him. It made it so easy to work off this strange tension in my body. How is it that the masculine, distinct scent of this man lights such a fire in my belly?
I must resist temptation though. Xander is the only person protecting me. What if I do or say something stupid that makes him angry with me? I’d be an idiot to take that risk. Plus, Dell broke up with me forty-eight hours ago. I’m not looking for a rebound and I need to focus on staying alive.
Stepping out into the kitchen, I nearly swallow my tongue and a strange noise escapes my throat at the sight of Xander popping bagels out of the toaster, shirtless.
God, he’s more ripped than any other man I’ve ever met. His muscles have muscles. Not a single inch of his chest and arms isn’t covered in tattoos, stopping at the shell of his throat.
I’ve never liked tattoos, beards, or cared much for muscles, but I could appreciate Xander for the specimen he is. Hot hunk of man-meat as Gilly would say.
How can someone so tortured be so damn tempting and handsome?
“I have no cooking skills,” he says with a sheepish expression that doesn’t belong on his rugged face.
I crack a small smile as he reaches on the counter for a paper plate but I grab his hand to stall him. His eyes snap to mine and my breath catches. The tension crackles in the air like fireworks burning up the oxygen all the way to my lungs. My heart tenses and my belly aches as he leans into me, holding me captive in his gaze.
We just officially met earlier at my apartment. How can there be this much undeniable attraction between us? It was never like this with Dell, but I have no idea if Xander is feeling this thing between us like I do. One part of me wants to grab him and kiss him until I forget whose air I’m breathing, but the rest of me is completely petrified of this feeling.
His hand grips my jaw as he leans into me, closer and closer, and I wonder if he plans to kiss me, something that is too soon, too much.
Then, I speak. “I…can cook,” I say, my chest heaving with the breaths my mind swears I’m not getting in.
His eyes darken and his jaw tightens, some intent emotion spinning in his eyes.
“Okay,” he says, moving to release me, but then he moves in closer, trailing his fingers to the valley between my breasts. My breath heaves like I’ve run a marathon at the seductive touch, but I don’t say anything. “Don’t dress like this again,” he warns.
“Why not?” I whimper, hoping he’ll push past my boundaries, but I don’t address it.
“Because you’re testing my restraint. If I get close to you again and you’re dressed like this, I’ll rip off your dress and fuck you senseless.”
