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He arched a brow.
“I lost everything.”
Havoc stroked the stubble on his jaw. “Don’t you have an iCloud account?”
Um, yes. “I guess I didn’t lose it all.” I didn’t even think of that with everything going on. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, baby.” His gaze dipped to my lips and snapped back to my eyes. “Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got kissable lips?”
“Havoc.”
“What? Too much?”
“Yeah.” My gaze roamed the room. I didn’t see Slash or Gunner.
“They went for food,” he explained, sauntering closer before he sat on the mattress only a foot away from me. “You need anything?”
“Water.”
“That’s one of the things they went to purchase. The tap here is disgusting, and the machine is out. Only soda left.”
I’d wait, then.
Havoc leaned back on his elbows, flashing a grin. “Want me to help you with some of that tension you got goin’ on, baby? I’ve been told I have a wicked tongue.”
I blinked. “Does that usually work for you?”
He laughed. “Not at all, but since I’m tryin’ to take your mind off all the bad shit, I thought you’d be down with it.”
I couldn’t help smiling at his logic. “It’s a no.”
“I’ll try again later.” He winked again, and those full lips lifted into a sultry grin. “I should warn you, I’m persistent when I want something.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, princess. I wantyou.”
I never had a guy talk to me so boldly before. “I’m not that easy.”
“I know.” His grin widened. “That’s why I’m enjoyin’ it so much.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. It was hard not to like him. Havoc had that charismatic quality that drew people in. He was a jokester, flirtatious, and easygoing. Even though this was our first lengthy conversation, I could tell that about him.
I liked him.
He wasn’t hard on the eyes, either. Havoc’s sharp jaw was covered in dark shadow, just enough to give him a dangerous edge when combined with the scar that zipped through his upper lip on the left side.
He was built like an endurance athlete—lean and muscular—but in a sleeker, deadlier way. Slash’s big body could break down a wall, crashing through the structure like a wild beast. Havoc was more like the monster living in the shadows, ready to strike like a vicious viper. You wouldn’t see him coming, but when he sank his fangs into you, you’d know you should have been more cautious.
His leather vest spread open, and his white shirt stretched over his washboard abs. Havoc’s muscular arms showcased as much black ink as Slash’s but stretched up his neck and ended below his jawline. I saw a skull and a black widow but knew that a tombstone and reaper filled the space on the other side of his neck. He liked his ink. All three of the guys were covered in tattoos.
The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Keep checking me out, baby. It’s fuckin’ hot to see that lust in your eyes.”
God. There was something raw and sensual about Havoc. Sure, he was cocky. He cracked too many jokes, and his full lips constantly twitched as if he were holding back a laugh. But the way he stared at me like I was his new favorite sucker, and he needed a lick shot, heat straight to my core.
My fingers itched to touch the light stubble on his jaw, so irresistibly chiseled above the corded muscles of his neck.
A lean, muscled, lethal machine.
