“I haven’t had home-cooked food in, I don’t even know how long. And I get two home-cooked meals in one day? If it weren’t for all the near-death experiences, I’d feel very spoiled.”
“Yeah, we’re spoiled with Eddie. Even if he’s backed off a bit lately, we still get quite a few meals a week. I don’t think the man’s ever made a bad dish in his life.”
“He seems really sweet. Especially for a biker.”
“I would pretend to be offended, but Eddie isn’t actually a biker. He’s more of a hangabout. He used to street race with Che way back in the day. When they reconnected, Eddie was working toward citizenship, so he didn’t want to get wrapped up in anything illegal.”
“Do you like it?”
“Having a cook? Can’t say I’m complaining.”
“Being a biker,” I clarified as I popped some of the veggies into my mouth.So that was what the balsamic dressing was for.I never would have thought to pair grilled veggies with it, but it was the perfect mix of sweet and tangy.
“It’s been a load off in a lot of ways. I’m no longer the one in control all the time, so I get to relax a little. And Dixon gets to come into his own more. It’s been good for both of us. That foster father of mine was right, too. There’s nothing like that kind of brotherhood.”
“I’m starting to see that,” I agreed.
We spent the next half an hour discussing the club members and their wives and girlfriends. And almost every single one of them seemed to bring some trouble on their heels. I found myself emotionally invested in all their stories, even the ones for people I hadn’t met yet.
Caymen came around and took my dishes as I was trying to digest.
But he came right back over after setting them in the sink, reaching down, grabbing my chair, and whipping it around to face him.
“What—” I started.
“I want dessert,” he said, reaching down, grabbing me, and lifting me out of my seat.
He set me on the table and pushed me flat.
Then he stood there, looking down at me with hunger in his eyes.
Well, then.
I certainly wasn’t going to deny him that, was I?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Noa
He wasn’t in a rush, though.
His gaze moved over me as his hands teased the outsides of my calves and knees.
Then they slid up my thighs, over my hips, and my ribs.
Desire tightened, sharpened. My breath went quick and shallow. The pressure on my stomach became heavy and the ache between my thighs grew distracting.
His fingers went to the straps of my dress, working them off my shoulders with his eyes focused on my face, watching my reaction.
But he was helpless but to watch as his hands moved the bodice of my dress down, exposing me.
A low, feral sound moved through him, making my sex clench hard.
And he just… looked.
For an achingly long time.
It was unexpected.
