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“What the fuck are you doing here?” I scrub my greasy, sweaty palms down the outsides of my coveralls to dry them off, hoping he’s not a mind reader and doesn’t know how often I’ve been thinking about him.
Reaching behind his back, he pulls out a shiny object. A gun.Mygun.
“Oh shit,” Jordan mutters while diving in front of the Buick.
“I thought you might want your gun back,” Thane says with a smirk.
“Jesus, RJ. You lost your gunandyour wallet?” Jordan asks me as he slowly rises again, no longer scared he’s about to get shot.
And since I don’t want to answer his questions and don’t have to, I tell him, “I think I hear the phone ringing in the office, prospect.”
“I don’t hear anything,” he replies.
“Well, you should go check to be sure.”
Jordan looks from me to Thane, then back to me. “Ohhh, you just want to get rid of me. Gotcha,” he says before he heads for the office door. He’s staring at the Devil Hound so closely that I’m surprised he doesn’t miss and hit the doorframe face-first.
When he’s gone, Thane holds up my gun again. “You want this or not? I was gonna keep it, but then I’d have to buy a clip for it.”
“Shut up,” I tell him. Annoyed at the reminder of my stupidity, I walk over to grab it from him.
And of course, the jackass pulls it back, holding it out of my reach at the last second unless I want to jump.
“Your brother is on my shit list,” he says, which isn’t what I was expecting.
“Why is that?” I ask, my palm still waiting between us for him to give me my gun. The sudden change of topic from my gun to my brother makes my brain work even slower than normal. I don’t even know which brother he’s referring to.
“Barrett shot out my bike’s tires, could’ve fucking shot me or Lyla, and the fucker got me in hot water with Isaac. If I hadn’t been fucking around with you during the reception, I would’ve seen Lyla sneaking out, and her father wouldn’t be a breath away from murdering someone.”
“Barrett wouldn’t do any of that,” I say confidently.
“He did,” he interrupts.
“No, he didn’t. And it was messed up for Isaac to ruin those three bikes at the bar! None of them were Barrett’s.”
“Was one of them yours?”
“One of what?” I huff, my fists now clenched by my sides since I’m tired of holding out my hand.
“Was one of the crushed bikes yours?”
“No. They were two of my older brothers’ and the bar owner’s bikes. Now, give me my goddamn gun.”
“Good.”
“Good?” I repeat in confusion. Is he saying he’s glad my bike wasn’t ruined? Why does he care?
“If we had crushedyourbike, then it would make it even harder for me to get you on your knees.”
Oh, wow, he’s insane. Guess those fantasies of mine weren’t one-sided. Too bad his isn’t going to make it on my bucket list. Or fuck-it list. “That’s never gonna fucking happen,” I assure him.
“How about a sixty-nine, then?”
“What?” I ask before I realize what he’s referring to, making my cheeks flush because it took me so long.
His eyes lower to stare right at the crotch of my coveralls when he says, “Fine. I’ll suck you off first, but then you’ll owe me one.”
He’ll suck me off first?I absolutely should not be picturing him on his knees with my dick sliding in and out of his mouth. Nope. That would be so fucked-up. Jordan could walk in on us.
