“Sorry,” Jack says. “The helmet’s a bit dusty. Normally I ride alone. What did you do today?” I pause, picking up the hint of irritation coloring his tone. I think it’s because I’m taking too long to clasp the strap. My hands are shaking. I don’t know why—I’ve been around Jack so often it’s become habit—but his presence tonight unsettles me.
“Let me help,” he says as he draws me in by my belt loop.
I sigh. This helmet is going to make my hair flat. “I don’t need a helmet,” I say as I try to remove it.
“Yes you do. You don’t get on a bike without one. Do you understand?” he says as he takes the straps, our eyes locking. He snaps the buckle under my chin but doesn’t let go.
Something about him having full control of me excites me. My heart pounds as the fire in his green eyes takes my breath away.
“Did you wear this outfit all day? What’d you do?” he asks, his voice gruff.
I bite my lip. I don’t know what to say. I don’t want him to know I changed for him. Will Jack think I’m dumb for changing my clothes to go to the club? I decide to be honest with him and let the chips fall where they may. “I just changed into this,” I say quietly. His eyes darken, and I swear I hear him growl as he releases the strap. He jumps on the bike without another word, starts it up, and motions for me to hop on.
I’m not sure what his reaction means, but that’s not new. Jack is hard to understand. Sometimes he’s a caveman, and other times he’s Jesus Christ. His sweet and caring side makes my heart warm. But his possessive side . . . thrills me. I’m not sure what that says about me, but I crave him in his feral form.
“Hold on tight,” he says as I settle in on the back.
I take full advantage of the invitation, wrapping my arms around him as we speed down the road. The rumble and vibration mix with the warmth of the asphalt racing under our feet. Throw in being flush up against Jack and I’m on a high. I never want this ride to end. Unfortunately, the club is a few miles away.
When we come to a stoplight, he grabs my calf and runs his hands up and down it. “You okay? Scared?”
I lean closer. “No, I love it.”
He nods while motioning to a pipe by my calves. “Watch it here. This exhaust gets hot. I would hate for you to burn your perfect legs.” I don’t miss the way his fingers graze my knees as he talks.
I widen my stance, pushing even closer to him. He moves his hands up my thighs and under my butt, giving me a tug so that my body is plastered completely against him. When the light switches to green, he lets go, but I stay stuck to him like glue.
CHAPTER 24
JACK
When Jessi and I arrive at the club, it’s not even nine. The massive garage doors are open, and music and laughter spill out into the parking lot. But the amount of bikes or cars around tells me things aren’t in full swing yet.
I wish I’d asked Jessi to take a ride instead of come here. Not only do I not want her to let go of me, but I don’t want anyone else drooling all over her. But damn, if she isn’t the hottest person here, and everyone knows it. I see the glares guys shoot her way—some ladies too.
But no one glowers as much as Natasha. As soon as we sit down, Natasha walks up to us and stares at Jessi like she’s a dead insect on her shoe.
“Who is she, Jack?” she says. “She’s cute—for a kid. Let her run off with the kids over there, while a real woman takes care of you.”
Jessi recoils at the insult then resets. She whirls around on the barstool to face Natasha with a look that could melt metal. “Hi. I’m Jessi, Jack’s roommate. I can assure you I’m not a kid. But I’m sure I’ll think young women look like kids when I’m as old as you.”
Then she twists back around like she owns the place.
Natasha’s face blazes and her eyes narrow as she sets her anger on me. “What a bitch.”
“Back off, Natasha.”
She sniffs and storms off.
I’m stunned at how Jessi handled herself. I have never seen her like that. Why does she let others treat her like shit if she has some backbone?
A territorial Jessi makes my cock twitch. I give myself a minute to readjust my pants.
When I eventually settle back on the barstool, I motion to Mike, who’s chatting at the other end of the bar. “Mike, this is Jessi. Jessi, this is Mike.”
Jessi grabs his hand, beaming. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard great things about you.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Mike says.
