My breath hitched.
I’d grown up around men in suits, and after everything I went through, men in suits look like pompous assholes to me. But not Havoc. Havoc looked delicious. His suit was top-notch. No department store suit for this sexy biker. The lines were clean, the fabric was thick and high quality, and it fit like a glove. It had to be custom tailored. No way did stores stock his size, so either he had it hanging in his closet, or he forked over some serious dough to get it done so quickly. And this sexy biker was taking me—a screwed up woman whom he didn’t even know—to a wedding full of complete strangers where he’d stick out like a sore thumb.
He really was a good guy. His selflessness made my eyeballs burn.
Blinking back tears, I called out, “He’s here!” to Justine and opened the door.
“You kids have fun,” she replied. “Make good choices.”
It was something I said whenever her boyfriend picked her up, and it made me smile. Especially since Havoc had frozen and was staring at me with ravenous eyes that made me want to make bad choices. The funnest kind of horrible choices.
We stared at each other for a couple of seconds, his gaze roaming up and down my body appreciatively as mine did the same. The lines of the suit highlighted his broad shoulders, muscular arms, and incredible legs. It made him seem bigger, more threatening, larger than life.
So hot.
“Damn,” he said, finally. Approaching, he circled me, his heated gaze burning through my dress and warming me in a way no sweater could. “Thisis what you’re wearing to the wedding?”
I smiled at him over my shoulder. “I sent you a picture.”
He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, meeting my gaze. “Sure as hell didn’t look like this on the hanger. Your ass is definitely going to need protection.”
My smile widened. “That’s why you’re here, right?” Although we both knew it was the country club that needed protection.
He swallowed and let his gaze drift back down my body. “Yeah, but who’s gonna protect you from me?”
The dark, lust-filled look in his eyes made my pulse race and my knees weak. I’d never felt more desirable in my life. If I said the word, Havoc would no doubt take me up to my apartment and ravage me. And oh my god, I could use a good ravaging.
But our presence was required at the impending wedding of awkwardness, so any ravaging would have to wait.
“We should get going,” I breathed, making myself step toward the truck.
Havoc nodded and hurried to open the door. “Here, let me help you,” he said, holding out his arm. “I haven’t got the nerf bars mounted yet, and that dress looks hellah tight. Wouldn’t want you to rip it.”
His expression said differently, making me feel like my dress was in danger of getting ripped off, but not accidentally. And if he kept looking at me like that, I’d probably let him shred it. Hell, I’d welcome it. Averting my eyes to tamp down on the temptation, I asked, “Nerf bars?”
“Side steps.”
Looking down, I saw what he was talking about. With nothing between the ground and the bottom of the truck, I’d have to hike my leg up almost to my knee to get in. Which was saying a lot, because I stood close to five-foot-ten without the three-inch strappy heels I currently had on. Wondering how I was going to manage this in a tight dress—even with the help of Havoc’s arm—I looked from him to the truck, and then back to him. He cracked a smile, grabbed me around the waist, and hoisted me up like I weighed nothing at all.
When he released me, one of his warm, giant hands brushed against the bare skin of my back, sending goosebumps over my entire body. His gaze locked with mine and he leaned in, until our faces were inches away. Then his gaze drifted down to the slit between my breasts. Havoc was obviously a boob man. Good to know. He sucked in a deep breath and bent to tuck the train of my dress safely inside the cab. Then he closed my door and circled around to the driver’s side.
My chest heaved as I sucked in air, trying to calm my racing heart. The guy was too intense, too sexual, too much. Last time we’d been together he’d been chastising me for trying to play him and calling me a druggie. But now he was like a walking, breathing, buff, hot platter of sex, and I was cold and starving. Wondering how I’d survive the fifteen-minute drive, not to mention the thirty-five-minute ferry ride, without trying to devour him, I kept my gaze locked straight ahead and tried not to notice the way his arms flexed as he got behind the wheel.
I failed.
He turned over the ignition and the truck came to life with a manly roar. I tried to picture Wesley driving a vehicle like this, but couldn’t. It was too virile. It’d make him look tiny and he’d feel emasculated, which was why he drove sports cars that made women ignore his little penis.
“You should brief me on what to expect,” Havoc said, merging into traffic. “Other than a bunch of rich white people and a token black family.”
“Entitled, rich white people,” I corrected. “But don’t worry, it won’t all be stories of hunting and golf. My great aunt, Martha, will provide inappropriate entertainment by getting plastered and feeling up the waiters.”
“One in every family. Can’t anyone keep the booze away from her?”
“They try.” A guilty smile tugged at my lips. “But Laura and I sneak her drinks. We figure she’s old and if she wants to get drunk and hit on the young’ns, who are we to stop her?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “And the rest of your family?”
“Dad’s a workaholic. Mom is a social dictator who makes or breaks people’s societal standings through her pull with all the local charity events. I only have one grandma left and she’s basically an older, more bitter version of Mom. Two of my uncles will be there, talking shop or boring anyone stupid enough to listen to their harrowing tales of murdering defenseless animals or small white balls. My aunts will express their disappointment in my purchase of a bookstore when such things are outdated and disappearing while stabbing me with advice about how to snag another husband. My cousins… who knows? We’re not close anymore on account of them being perfect and me being tainted.”
