“Fuck off,” I said, but continued to poke at my hair with a scowl. My short-sleeved red shirt was okay, and the black leather trousers… I was undecided. Hunter was a biker, so I thought he might like that look, but I wasn’t used to it at all. Leather didn’t hang right—or rather, it grasped a bit too tightly to my boys. I tugged at the crotch and glared at myself in the mirror. Nearby, Corbin snorted and then pretended to clear his throat, like I didn’t know the arse was laughing at me.
“Ya should just… uh, ya know. Be yourself, maybe?” he asked. We shared a look and then I sighed.
“Not sure what sort of miracle it will be for me to get this leather off later. I’m not changing back from fear, not because I don’t want to.”
Corbin and I shared another look and had a chuckle together before he opened the pot of hair glue and held it out toward me. Cursing, I started to work. It took me fifteen minutes to get real curls on my head, and by that point I was starting to feel judged by the way Corbin kept checking his watch.
“Fine. Off with ya.” I waved at him.
My hair was good. I smelled good. My shirt clung to my abs the way I wanted, and the leather trousers were just the right amount of wicked, even though I was worried I might never be able to wriggle out of them again.
“Where is he?” I asked, turning away from the mirror. It had been a long time since I felt this full of jitters over seeing someone again, and I ascribed some of my agitation to the fact that he’d had those sweet lips on my cock last night. The rest? He was just so different from the men I dealt with all the time. He was quiet, and he must be thoughtful, but I really didn’t know him. That was half the fun—the not knowing yet.
“Really?” Corbin asked, pursing his lips. “This is what we’re doing now? I’m to know every move the lad you’re panting after makes?”
“No. I just want to know where he isright now. That’s reasonable.”
Corbin lifted an eyebrow at me.
I shook a fist at him.
He hoisted his middle finger in my direction.
“It is reasonable.”
Corbin shook his head, but said, “Your man spent the mornin’ with his brother at the pool. Matching wee red swim trunks on the blonds. Ya can think about that for a second. Go on.”
I flipped him off back, and he smirked, taking his phone out of his pocket to poke at it for a second.
“Well?”
“Then your matched set went out with Rourke to eat ice cream at a shop. They were both cuddled up nice and close to ’im.”
“Hunter wasnotcuddled to Rourke.”
Corbin smirked and didn’t look up from his phone.
My heart gave a jig as the fantasy of Hunter sitting, sweetly licking at an ice cream, had me warming up in the leather. “Very pleasant image,” I finally admitted.
“Indeed. Now your poppet is out working on his motorbike. Rourke sent one of those boys over with him who usually does security on the door. A big lad. Seems half decent. Good Irish. Also, Hunter saw me spying on him in the garage. I told him ya had me watching him. Seemed decidedly unfussed about it, which is a wee bit odd, in my opinion. Ya sure about this one?” He stared at me hard.
“Corbin!” I yanked his phone from his hand. “How did that happen?”
“Sorry.” He didn’tsoundsorry. Or look sorry. He grabbed his phone back.
“Fine.”
“Again, do ya really think this is a good idea for a date?”
“He likes motors. It’s perfect.” I allowed myself a second or two to be insufferably smug.
“Sir,” Corbin said, and did a quick check of the gun at his side under his light jacket, almost like he wanted to make sure it was still there. “Can’t ya just take him out to dinner? That’s what I do with my girl. Works out fine. She rides me afterward and everythin’. Promise.”
“He’s not a girl.”
“Did notice that, in spite of those shining gold locks. Shouldn’t that mean ya go to less trouble?” He looked ready to beg me to change my mind, but I wouldn’t. This was too perfect, and as soon as I’d heard the boss’s pet, Conall, talking about it this morning at the meeting, I’d decided we should go.
“Corbin, ya have not knownhelluntil you’ve tried to impress a picky man.” Laughing, I landed a light jab on his shoulder and he took a step back. “Women are used to putting up with shite. Men aren’t. Ya get me?”
