TWENTY-TWO
BADGER
I flopped onto my bed and groaned into one of the plush pillows. I wanted Machine. I wanted him to rip off my towel and ravage me. He looked so good today in his skin-tight t-shirt and dark jeans that clung to his sculpted thighs and ass.
No, keep it together, Jessica. You are a strong, independent woman, and you definitely cannot have that man,I chastised myself.
Why can’t I?the annoying bitch in heat in me shot back.We are adults, and he knows your identity now, so what’s the big deal?
I ignored my thoughts and started to get dressed for the day. I needed to get to my self-defense class. Whether Machine liked it or not, I was determined to go. I put my wet hair into a top knot, then put on a black sports bra and matching black pants.
I strode out of my room and ignored my racing heart as I saw Machine sitting in the living room on the large sectional, a book in his hands and reading glasses on his nose. There was something sinful in the way he looked up at me from behind his glasses. The scar on his eyebrow looked more menacing than before, adding to the appeal. He placed the book down on his lap and took me in.
“Where are you headed?” he asked as I walked to the front door.
“To my defense class,” I said nonchalantly.
He took off his glasses and stood up. “You know you can’t go anywhere alone, Bunny.”
I whirled around and put my hands on my hips, glaring at him. “The fuck I can’t!”
Machine approached me with even, calculated steps. “We don’t know who is responsible for the letters. We can’t risk you going anywhere alone right now. You know this.”
I clenched my jaw, pissed off at the situation. I knew he was right, but there was no way in hell I was going to admit it. I grabbed my bag off the hook by the door.
“My girls depend on me. I need to be there,” I snapped.
I grabbed my coat. Just as I touched the doorknob, Machine spun me around and pinned my hands to my sides. His eyes were full of worry and something that looked like longing.
“I can’t let you go,” he said sternly.
I halfheartedly fought against his grip. We both knew that I could get out of his hold, but I liked being held by him. His hands felt warm and calloused, and everything that screamedman.
“Let go of me, Tool!” I said through gritted teeth while struggling in his tightening grip.
He pressed his body to mine, and I looked up at his tall, broad frame. I was tall, but I felt tiny next to him.
“Never,” he growled before pressing his lips to mine.
The kiss was hungry and demanding and everything I needed. My toes curled as his tongue tangled with mine. Machine moaned into my mouth as he stopped pinning me and cupped my face, tilting it to give him better access. I moaned in response, loving the way he felt against me.
My hands went to his chest and roamed down toward his waistband. I cupped Machine’s hard length through his pants,making him groan. I stroked him several times before letting him go and pushing his chest. He stumbled back and looked at me, dazed and confused.
“You are not going to stop me from going to that class, Hammer.”
His brows knitted together, but then his gaze narrowed and he shook his head.
“You’re not going, and that’s final,” he growled.
TWENTY-THREE
MACHINE
It took some arguing, but the compromise was that I went with her. We took my SUV to the women’s shelter. She hopped out and slammed the door. Our make-out session had left my dick rock-hard, and her feisty attitude only felt like more foreplay. I couldn’t wait to get her back home; she was in for a rude awakening if she thought she could get away with being such a brat.
I knew how important the women’s shelter was to her, but why was she being so careless with her own safety? Did she want something bad to happen? Or was she just against being told what to do? Either way, I wasn’t going to stand for it. An order was an order, and I refused to have her safety jeopardized just because she wanted to do a self-defense class by herself.
I walked into the studio space after her. The women all stopped their chatting and looked at me with unease. I knew I was probably the last guy that the women would want to see. I probably looked like their attackers or abusers.
