"Both." He helps me off the bike, his hands lingering on my waist. "Come on. Let's get back before I change my mind about being a gentleman."
The ride back to the compound is torture. Every bump in the road, every turn, every shift of his body beneath my hands reminds me of what almost happened. By the time we pull through the gates, I'm wound so tight I'm vibrating with it.
Sterling gives us a knowing look as we pass the guardhouse, and I have a feeling everyone's going to know about this before morning. Great. Just what I need, the entire club speculating about my relationship with their Sergeant-at-Arms.
Ice Pick, Mason, whoever he is right now, parks near the clubhouse and helps me off the bike. His hand catches mine before I can head inside.
"My room. Thirty minutes. Gives you time to clean up, gives me time to make sure we won't be interrupted."
My heart's hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. "You're very sure of yourself."
"I'm sure of what I saw in your eyes on that hill. You want this as much as I do." He brings my hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "Question is whether you're brave enough to take it."
"I've faced down Reapers and hired guns. I think I can handle you."
His smile's dangerous, predatory. "We'll see about that."
He leaves me standing there, pulse racing and nerves singing, and I head inside on shaky legs. The common room's crowded with brothers, club whores draped over laps, and musicplaying from speakers. A few heads turn when I enter, eyes tracking my progress across the room.
I ignore them all and head upstairs to my room, closing the door and leaning against it. What am I doing? This is insane. Getting involved with Ice Pick, with Mason, complicates everything. He's supposed to be protecting me, keeping me safe while I finish this investigation. Adding sex to that equation is asking for disaster.
But I can still feel his hands on my skin, still taste him on my lips, and the logical part of my brain's losing the argument with the part that just wants to feel something other than fear and exhaustion.
I shower quickly, changing into clean clothes, and trying to decide if I'm really going to do this. The answer comes when I check my reflection in the mirror and realize I'm not just clean, I'm making an effort. Hair down instead of pulled back. The shirt that fits better than my usual oversized choices. A touch of lip gloss I found at the bottom of my bag.
Yeah, I'm doing this.
Thirty minutes later, I'm standing outside Ice Pick's door, hand raised to knock, heart pounding so hard I'm surprised it doesn't break through my ribs. Before I can second-guess myself, the door opens and he's there, still in his jeans but the leather cut's gone, replaced by a black t-shirt that shows off arms covered in ink.
"You came," he says, and there's surprise in his voice beneath the heat.
"You didn't think I would?"
"I thought you might come to your senses." He steps aside, letting me in. "Still time to change your mind."
I walk past him into the room, taking in the space that's surprisingly neat for someone who lives at a motorcycle club. Bed made, clothes put away, personal items minimal. It's almostmilitary in its organization, and I wonder what that says about him.
"I'm not changing my mind," I say, turning to face him.
He closes the door, the lock clicking with a finality that makes my pulse skip. Then he's moving toward me with that predatory grace, backing me up until my legs hit the bed.
"Last chance, Ava, because once we do this, there's no going back. You'll be mine, and I don't share."
The possessiveness in his voice should annoy me. Instead, it sends heat pooling low in my belly. "I don't want you to share."
"Good." His hands find my waist, pulling me flush against him. "Because I've been thinking about this, about you, since the moment I saw you in that garage three days ago. Bloody, defiant, and refusing to back down even when you were outnumbered."
"That turned you on?"
"Everything about you turns me on." His mouth finds my neck, teeth scraping along my pulse. "The way you argue with me, the way you challenge me, the way you look at me like I'm both your salvation and your doom."
"Maybe you're both."
"Maybe I am." He lifts me easily, and I wrap my legs around his waist. "But right now, I'm just a man who wants you so bad he can barely think straight."
He lays me down, following me onto the mattress, and his weight's perfect, solid and real. His mouth claims mine in a kiss that's all consuming, stealing my breath and my thoughts until there's nothing but sensation.
His hands slide under my shirt, pushing it up and over my head. Cool air hits my skin for a moment before his mouth's there, kissing and biting along my collarbone, down to the swell of my breasts above my bra.
