He opened his mouth, then closed it, not liking where his thoughts were headed. He cleared his throat, forcing out a soft, “I’m sorry.”
“Heshould be.”
“Oh, agreed,” he said, meeting her sly smile with one of his own.
He ran his gaze across the bikers, instantly drawn to the hulking mass of a man making his way through the crowd. He looked downright sinful as he ran a hand through his wavy hair, arm muscles flexing. It was hard to believe they’d actually gone there. He had those big hands on his body only hours ago.
Dove made a small sound in the back of her throat. Was that a choked laugh?
He found her pursing her lips, gaze where his had been a moment ago, before she turned to look at him. Her lips pulled into a wry smile. “You fooling around with that big guy? Wilder, right?”
His brows jumped, and he knew he was blushing from her low chuckle. A sparkle entered her eyes, and he wasn’t sure what he was about to be in for, but a part of him was relieved that someone knew. He didn’t want it to be some dirty secret. He didn’t want it to be a secret at all, but he knew now probably wasn’t the best time to tell anyone. Especially because they hadn’t really talked about what this was. What it meant. What they meant to each other.
“You know, I was warned not to get involved with biker dudes. Should’ve listened.”
“Is this you warning me?”
Dove shrugged. “Do you need the warning?”
Did he? Maybe. He didn’t see Wilder as just some biker dude. He was the one who made him feel safe. Seen. The one who danced with him and didn’t care that he got paint on him. Hewas someone he wanted to spend all his time with. Someone he?fuck… He wanted more with Wilder.
“Ah.” Dove bumped his shoulder with hers, making him meet her gaze. “Too late for warnings.”
Yeah, he supposed it was.
Raising his head, his cheeks burning, he caught Wilder’s gaze across the room, green-flecked eyes already locked on him. Wilder looked at him with that streak of possessiveness he was starting to crave. Had been craving. For a good while now.
A sigh escaped him. Dove was right. It was definitely too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Wilder
WHEN HE’D been younger, he’d spent too much time partying, losing himself in the haze of alcohol and sex. He wasn’t one to turn down sex now, especially when Emmett was the one occupying his bed. When he’d prospected for the Disciples, things had changed. He’d slowly evolved from that carefree kid into a man he was proud of. Perhaps it should’ve felt wrong to become a King after so many years wearing the Disciples’ colors on his back, but following Kaz had always felt like the right choice. His brother was yet to lead him astray, and he didn’t think he ever would.
He turned down an offer of a drink, wanting to remain clearheaded in case he got even just a moment with Emmett. It wouldn’t be easy with everyone milling around when his bedroom was just off the living room, but at this point, he’d take a stolen kiss in a dark hallway. He was that desperate for more of Emmett. The man had turned everything upside down and done so only by being himself.
He felt the turmoil in his chest, and he didn’t know what to think of it. Obviously, he cared about Emmett far beyond just wanting his body. He hadn’t lied when he told Emmett that if he didn’t want anything physical between them, then he would be fine with remaining friends. This connection they had meant way more than sex to him. Was it fucking explosive, and he couldn’t get enough? Absolutely. Was Emmett’s company and his friendship more important to him? Yes.
Walking through the crowd, he ended up next to Remy. She looked like she was considering how much alcohol it would take to drown herself, her gaze locked on the glass of what was likely pure vodka in her hand.
“You hiding from Mika?”
He knew she was around somewhere, possibly trying to poison people with her horrible mixing of alcohol.
Remy’s eyes shot to his, a furrow forming between her brows.
“Unlike most men, Mika knows how to take no for an answer.”
“Most men, huh? You ever come across one of those, I’ll hold ‘em down while you have at ‘em.”
Remy snorted. “Don’t doubt it.”
A smile tugged at his lips.
He ran his gaze across the room, seeking out Emmett the way he did every other minute and certainly not because he was supposed to protect him. He couldn’t get enough of him. If he thought it an option, he’d drag him right back into bed this second. There was no way Emmett would let him. Well… maybe.
He found Emmett standing at the opposite side of the room, his long-sleeved blue shirt almost the same shade as his eyes. Emmett lifted his hand to run his fingers through his hair as he talked. He knew how soft those strands were. Knew what they felt like between his fingers. He knew how this man tasted, how he felt against him, and a part of him still couldn’t believe Emmett had let him in.
