“Don’t worry, Darlin’. I’ll keep you safe,” Wilder’s voice rumbled through his helmet.
Perhaps it should’ve made him relax, but that deep, husky voice did absolutely nothing to calm him down.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Wilder
HE HADN’T been lying when he told Emmett he’d rather have stayed with the others, but having that fiery man pressed against his back felt fucking divine. The way Emmett had looked at him with those blue eyes awakened something devious inside him. He wanted to see what Emmett would do or say if he pushed more.
Emmett’s hands were curled in his shirt, and despite the obvious reason being that he wasn’t wearing gloves and the wind was cold, there was a part of him that liked to envision it was for a different reason. Guess he could now adddelusionalto his long list of issues.
He pulled up in front of the clubhouse, tapping Emmett’s thigh when he made no move to get off.
“You need help?”
He heard some grumbling through the headset and grinned to himself.
Emmett managed to get his leg back over the bike only to slip on the gravel. Wilder’s hand shot out, grabbing Emmett by the arm to keep him upright.
Emmett’s head snapped up, and fuck if he didn’t wish the visor on the man’s helmet was up so he could see those piercing blue eyes.
“Thanks,” Emmett said, his voice quiet.
Wilder reluctantly released his hold on Emmett’s arm, something tightening in his chest for reasons unknown. Heshook it off with a low laugh, pushing his visor up and saying, “Don’t worry, Darlin’, I’ll catch you anytime.”
Emmett stuttered, shaking his head, and fuck, but he wanted that helmet off him because he just knew Emmett was blushing furiously. He liked that way more than he probably should. There was something wholly innocent to Emmett, even if he was also quite the firecracker. Authentic was the word that came to mind.
With the kickstand down, he got off his bike and turned the key, pulling it out and shoving it into his front pocket. He undid his chinstrap and pulled his helmet off, leaving it on the seat of his bike before stepping toward Emmett.
Emmett tilted his head back to give Wilder more room to undo his chin strap, but his fingers still brushed Emmett’s heated skin as he moved. He tried to stop a smile when he heard Emmett’s sharp inhale, but the second he pulled the helmet off Emmett’s head and met electric blue eyes, there was no stopping it.
“I’m never getting back on that thing,” Emmett groused.
Wilder chuckled and shook his head. “Guess we’ll see about that.”
Emmett rolled his eyes, and Wilder fought the impulse to wrap his arms around him and tug him close. He knew he needed to keep his hands to himself, and he wasn’t sure what it was about Emmett that made that almost impossible.
He hung Emmett’s helmet from his handlebars and motioned toward the clubhouse. “Come on.”
He led Emmett to the front door with a hand on the small of his back, his gaze catching on the Kings’ colors painted on the wall to his right. He’d known Emmett had done it, but he hadn’t thought much of it until now. Even he could tell it was well done, and he couldn’t wait to see what Emmett came up with for the gym.
He reached for the door, opening it for Emmett, who gave him a cautious look before walking inside. He followed, trying not to let his gaze drop to Emmett’s ass. He wasn’t the least bit successful. That was two thick cheeks he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about biting into. He was an ass man through and through, and Emmett’s ass was as good as it got.
Footsteps from the living room had him snapping his head up, his gaze finding Emmett, who didn’t seem to have noticed his ogling.
Emmett smiled, and his whole face lit up. For a heartbeat or two, he was delusional enough to think it was because of him.
Emmett opened his arms, and Miles walked into his embrace. Wilder watched them with a lump in his throat. He’d thought Emmett was cute before that smile. Now? Fuck, he was in danger. The sassiness, the great ass, and that fucking smile? It was a killer combo.
That Emmett clearly thought very little of him didn’t diminish his attraction one fucking bit. It probably should, but he was a glutton for punishment. Always had been. Big risks, big rewards, was generally his mantra. Only when it came to himself, though. He wasn’t one to risk others.
“You’re back early,” Miles said, arching a brow at Emmett, who shifted on his feet.
“Uh. We had to leave,” Emmett mumbled, glancing over his shoulder at Wilder. He pressed his lips together and tore his gaze away from Emmett.
“Come on. I’ll give you a tour,” Miles told Emmett, wrapping his arm around the shorter man’s shoulders.
He trailed after Emmett and Miles as they headed into the living room, ignoring Miles’s confused look over his shoulder. He and Ezra had left the gym hours ago and obviously didn’t know what was going on. He knew Miles wouldn’t ask with Emmett around, and as it was, he wouldn’t have any answers forhim anyway. Though he hadn’t heard any gunshots or sirens as they’d driven away from the gym, it didn’t mean much.
