Chapter Eight
Axe wasn’t going to let Leanna see him squirm, but if he moved, at all, she’d notice, especially since she was staring straight at his groin.
And it was making him hot.
Dang.
His dick chose the exact wrong moment to make its move, swelling dangerously at the hot, flustered woman with the wild hair and full-bodied chest, heavily laden with an abundance of pillowy goodness. Having her plastered against his back on the rumbling motorcycle had him already revved to high gear. He could feel those wonderfully smushed breasts and imagine himself licking, sucking, and rolling those no doubt long nipples inside his hungry mouth.
Dang. How long was she going to stare at his groin?
But then, he didn’t care. Let her see his hard-on. He wasn’t ashamed of it.
At the same time, he couldn’t let her get an edge over him.
“You remember?” Her gaze burned skid marks over his body. “That was you with the Mexican food?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “You reneged on your end of the deal, and you know that’s dangerous.”
“How are you involved?”
“I know things.” He took the opportunity to clasp his hands and rest his elbows over his knees, effectively covering his tenting erection. “If you run off to Mexico, those who also know things will get suspicious. They’re supposed to think she was aborted.”
Leanna gasped, covering her mouth. She pushed herself from the couch and paced across the tiny room. “Why would they think otherwise? Unless you reported that I came out the front door?”
“I admit nothing. They watch you, and it’s in their nature to be suspicious. As long as you act normal, you’re safe.”
She whirled around, her luscious body jiggling like an enticing display of tropical fruit. The expression on her face was pure rage. “You watch me. You’re the dangerous one. Tell me, are you working for them?”
He pushed up from his crouch and put his hands on his hips, aggressively jutting his chin her direction. “I’ll tell you nothing, except you screwed up at the bakery this morning. Your mother should know better than to carry on like that.”
“She has no idea. She thinks I’m running off with a man I met online.”
He stood still, staring at her until she squirmed.
“What?” Her ruffled blouse fluttered, and her cheeks flushed with a deep blush. “Stop being a creep. All you do is stare and pose, like you’re some kind of badass cop. You grab me by the ass and haul me off on your loud and stinky motorcycle, and now you’re criticizing my mom? If you have nothing to add, get out of my life.”
She advanced on him. Steam hissed from between her teeth, and both of her hands whirled like egg whisks circling to scramble his brain.
He stood his ground, rather enjoying the display of hot, heaving Latina. Oh, yeah,chicahad a temper! Why, he’d even let her slap him around a bit and scratch his face, if it meant cutting out foreplay.
“No one told you to butt in.” She pounced so she was a mere inch from him. “No one told you to spy on me. Stalk me like some creep and act like you don’t know me when I’m with my friends. My life is none of your effing business. Standing there all judgmental, like you’re a high and mighty god. My mother can scream all she wants. You’re the one who tossed her to the ground and kidnapped her daughter. I ought to have you arrested. Actually, I’m going outside and calling 9-1-1.”
She stomped her boots, leaving dents in his pinewood floor. He was having too good a time watching her butt bounce back and forth to stop her as she headed for the kitchen and yanked the phone off the wall.
She stared at the handset, not recognizing how to use a rotary dial, then slammed it to the floor. Looking exactly like a bull pawing the ground and about to gore him, she pumped her fists and charged. “Take me back to the bakery. You’re fired. I don’t care if it’s Jazzy or Rex who hired you. I didn’t authorize it.”
He tossed her the keys to his Harley. “Go for it.”
Her lip curled, and she hissed as she caught them. “You think I don’t know how to ride? I’ll crash your mother-effing bike. I’ll sue you. I’ll take you to the cleaners.”
He whistled under his breath, and sure enough, Gio, the dog he’d rescued long ago, barged around the side yard and blocked the exit. He let out a volley of growls and barks, bristling and baring his teeth—exactly the way he was trained.
Leanna skidded to a halt so fast, she almost toppled over like an overburdened Christmas tree. “Bad dog. Bad dog!”
Axe swaggered to the screen door. “Is that any way to speak to Gio Batta? His feelings are hurt.”
“I don’t care if he’s the Pope. He needs to get out of the way. Let me out of here.” She stomped both feet and windmilled her arms, causing Gio to howl like the hound from hell he was.
