There was not one but four men, all looking so similar. Jeans, t-shirts, sunglasses, leather cuts and tattoos straddling motorcycles. The one who spoke dismounted his and took off his shades.
He stood in front of me, a few inches away from the car. I came up to his shoulders, and I was in six-inch heels. Black hair brushed his sharp jaws. Rippling muscles threatened to tear his clothes. Tattoos covered every inch of skin I could see from the neck down.
His eyes…There was something about them. He had silver eyes, too bright to be natural, but it wasn’t the color that startled me. It was the threat behind them. A dangerous intensity wafted off the man, an air of menace in the way he held himself. It all showed in those feral eyes.
This one was trouble. They all were.
My heart thudded, yet, finally, my eyes narrowed into my intended glare. How the hell did they appear out of nowhere like this? How could I not hear the engines? Even if I was shouting, a motorcycle roar had to be louder than my voice.
The standing biker brought his hands up like I was pointing a gun at him, a grin highlighting his…very kissable mouth. How could a guy, who looked like he could bench press a car, have lips like that?
My mind went all dirty on me, picturing all the things he could do with those lips instead of working out a safe escape plan—I was a woman with four hulks on death machines on an empty road.
Ovaries, you’re going to be the death of me. Shut the fuck up!
His gaze, hungry and very male, traveled up my legs and finished at my eyes. “Whoa, kitten. Didn’t mean to scare you. Just heard you screaming at your car and thought you could use a hand.”
“Triple A will be here any second.”
“Yeah? Then why were you so upset?” He was calling my bluff easily. I didn’t like that or the way he called me kitten or that he was stepping closer and the musk of his leather was making me dizzy. “I’m guessing they’re running late, and you have somewhere important to be?”
He took in my outfit again with his wild stare. It held me in place, and an ache clenched between my thighs.
Snap out of it!
My eyes flicked around, and the other three men were looking me up and down, too. I placed my hands on my hips, rage overpowering my fear. The eye fucking needed to stop. “I do. If I’m not there in fifteen minutes, they will start looking for me. You’d better take your gang and leave. I don’t want any trouble.”
He raised a brow. “Gang? Always so judgmental of people you just met?”
Funny. Mister death on wheels thinks I’m rude?
My tire burst, my car died mysteriously, and these guys appeared out of nowhere, offering tohelp?What was I supposed to think? “If I had a penis and said that, would it have offended you or would you’ve respected my bluntness? Because I have a vagina it makes it judgmental?”
The blond guy to his right snickered, bringing his hand to his mouth. “Look, babe, Slasher here, along with the rest of us, are no gang. We’re the Blood Demons MC.”
“I’m not babe.” I darted a glare at him and returned it to Slasher. “Or kitten. The next time you want to address me you call me Professor.”
“Ooooh or what? You’ll spank me?” the blond smirked.
“You can spank me any time, Miss,” another one of them said, and the rest laughed.
Except Slasher. He moved his stare from me to his friends, and they chopped off the laughter. I didn’t need to look at the patch on Slasher’s cut to know he was the president.
“I’m not the kind that leaves a woman in need.” His eyes held me captive. “Even a stubborn one who is too proud to ask for help,Professor.”
He stepped forward, and I slammed back into my car, my heart hammering in my chest. He stopped in his tracks, a frown marring his face. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he told me carefully.
The only guy I knew that rode a motorcycle wasn’t a gangster, but he was the douche that broke my heart. Excuse me if I associated bikes, the men that rode them, and the musk that was driving me insane right now with trouble…and irrational lust.
My right arm dropped to my side, my spine relaxing just a bit. “Fine. You wanna help?” I gestured at the Ford. “I have a flat, and she’s dead. Can you fix it in time, Mister…?”
“The name is Slasher. I’m sure it’s easy for a professor to memorize. And yes, I could change the tire and maybe fix the car for you, but that will take more than fifteen minutes. Your best option is that I give you a ride.”
I snorted a cackle that sounded like a hyena dying. “How stupid do you think I am, Mister Slasher?”
“I don’t think you’re stupid at all. That’s why I’m offering you a decent, sensible solution only an idiot would turn down.”
Did he just call me an idiot?If I had been scared of this asshole a second ago, now I was nothing but furious. I stepped into his space, my eyes flicking at him, my breasts grazing his arm, but I didn’t care.
