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And keep my fucking hands to myself until I know what we're dealing with.

Then I remember the way she looked at me when she admitted she wanted me.

Yeah.

That last part is going to be a problem.

Chapter 5

Madison

I hear the shower running.

I've been staring at the bedroom ceiling for several minutes, trying very hard not to picture the naked man on the other side of the wall.

I'm failing so spectacularly that I should probably receive an award.

The safe house has one bedroom, one bed, and a living room where Torch apparently intends to spend the night on a couch that's at least a foot too short for him.

Because he's being a gentleman.

Of all the inconvenient times for a dangerous biker to develop manners.

I roll onto my side and tug at the oversized T-shirt Razor gave me. It came with soft shorts and the reassuring scent of clean laundry.

Sexy? Absolutely not.

Comfortable? Unfortunately.

Then again, my plans for tonight didn't originally include a thirty-nine-year-old biker, a murder attempt, and a dinner prepared almost entirely from cans.

I'm learning to be flexible.

The shower keeps running.

I close my eyes.

Big mistake.

Now I can picture Torch under the water, his dark hair wet, those broad shoulders slick, and absolutely nothing between us except my questionable decision-making skills.

Torch told me we should wait.

He's probably right.

He's older, more experienced, and far too attractive for a man who spends half his time ordering me around.

Then there's the small matter of my investigation.

I came here looking for answers. So far, I've acquired a headache, a near-death experience, and an increasingly inappropriate interest in my prime suspect.

Mom would be horrified.

Actually, she'd probably want to know why I was sharing a house with him.

Excellent question.

I sit up.