“Good.” He tossed his towel aside, cupped my face, and kissed me softly. “Get used to it.”
Butterflies swirled in my belly as I followed him into the closet, where he grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt for me. I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d take his motorcycle instead since I wasn’t wearing my dress from last night.
I pulled them on and twisted my damp hair into a low bun while Colter got dressed. Then I followed him downstairs, where he made me a much-needed mug of coffee, which he poured into a travel mug.
Opening the cabinet above the machine, he pulled out an unopened bottle of vanilla syrup. “How much of this do you like in it?”
“That’s my favorite flavor.” When he didn’t look surprised, I asked, “How did you know?”
His mouth kicked up at one corner. “I told you I have my ways.”
“That you did,” I murmured, taking the bottle from him to pour the vanilla into my coffee before adding a splash of oat milk, not even surprised when he pulled the container out of the fridge.
“All set?” He leaned a hip against the counter, watching me sip my coffee. “I’ll take you home so you can change, then drop you at work.”
I peered at him over the rim of the tumbler. “But then how will I get home tonight?”
He took a drink of his own coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’ll pick you up.”
I blinked. “You’d drive all the way back just to take me home?”
He set his mug down, stepped into my space, and tipped my chin up with one long finger. Then he winked but didn’t answer my question.
I was still wondering about that wink an hour later as he pulled up to the curb in front of the building where I worked. Before I could say goodbye, his hand was in my hair, tugging me across the console. His mouth crashed down on mine in a hungry kiss.
When he finally let me go, I was dazed and breathing hard.
He got out, and my lips tingled as I pressed my fingers against them. “Wow.”
Spotting him circling the front of the SUV—and still a little disappointed in myself for wanting my coffee too much to suggest we take his motorcycle instead—I grinned. He opened my door, and I slid out on shaky legs.
He caught my waist, pulled me close one more time, and pressed a softer kiss to my forehead. “Text me when you’re done for the day.”
“I don’t have your number,” I reminded him.
He released me but didn’t step back. “I’ll send you a message so you have it.”
“Thanks.”
I was all too aware of his gaze on me as I walked into the building. My heart practically skipped a beat when I glanced back, and he grinned.
It would be a very long day, counting down the hours until he picked me up again.
7
ACE
The rumble of my Harley echoed in my chest, the familiar vibration soothing the emotions simmering beneath my skin. Dropping Poppy off at work hadn’t exactly been easy—not with the way she’d clung to me when I kissed her goodbye. I’d never been possessive about anything in my life except money. Even then, it wasn’t personal. But with her, possessiveness had taken on a new meaning. It was fierce, and something I was pretty sure would drive me to the edge of my control if I didn’t learn to manage it soon.
I’d taken the SUV home and grabbed my bike, anxious to feel the way my world seemed to steady after a ride. Ironic, considering how unstable a bike could be if you didn’t know how to control it.
The Hounds compound came into view, the heavy gate already sliding open as the prospect manning it recognized me. I gave him a quick chin lift as I rode through, gravel crunching beneath my tires. The clubhouse rose ahead, sunlight reflecting off dark windows. A couple of prospects were busy cleaning bikes outside the garage, nodding in greeting as I parked and swung my leg over my hog.
The moment I stepped through the front door, the low murmur of voices and occasional laughter drifted from the lounge area. Rebel and Cross glanced up from the pool table, each holding a cue in one hand and a beer in the other.
“Seriously?” I drawled. “It’s not even lunchtime.”
“Uh-oh,” Cross drawled, smirking as he bent to take a shot. “Ace is wearing his serious face. Probably about to audit our fucking beer consumption.”
