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“It isn’t selfish. We got time to make out. Or is that gonna be a problem for you?”

“With you? Never.”

He pulled my body up and kissed me. That fuse between us lit again, but we kept it from detonating… for now. His hands roved my body, feeling me up just enough to hint at what would come later. I let my hands wander his body, and I loved toying with his chest.

The oven timer beeped, but we ignored it.

His lips trailed down to my neck, where he’d left a love bite yesterday. “We don’t stop, your food’s gonna be ruined.”

“Two more kisses.”

He sucked at my neck a little harder, then pulled away. His eyes were soft and lazy. “Just two. Can’t burn Christmas dinner.”

Chapter 8

Mild Fugue State

Tundra

This woman was ruining me .

Part of me intended to sell my bike after this because I’d never be able to get on it without thinking of her. And not just because we’d fucked on my bike.

Yesterday, the day after Christmas, she’d mentioned shooting darts. It reminded me of watching her trying her hand at it a few months ago - I’d itched to teach her better techniques. I took her to a tiny bar up on the Northside where I sometimes practiced. The moment I opened my saddlebag one of her brows ticked up.

“You carry a tarp with you - which makes sense because you never know what’s gonna happen on the road. But your own darts - in a carrying case. What else do you have in your saddlebags, sir?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, wild child.”

We had more fun than I’d bargained for…then again standing close behind this woman lit my blood on fire. Not sure I helped her improve her technique that much. We’d spent more time making out than shooting darts. Luckily, the bartender there didn’t give a damn.

She was gonna make some lucky bastard very happy. But if he was with the Riot MC, I was gonna be in a world of trouble.

Mickayla sighed before she put her soda can to her lips and I focused on her.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

She gave me a lopsided smile. “It’s twelve twenty-seven on twelve twenty-seven. Time really flew by, we only have another twelve hours together.”

“What time do you report in tomorrow?”

“Eleven.”

I twisted a hand up. “I go in at noon. Pretty sure we can fit in another three or four hours in the morning…so that give us sixteen hours. There isn’t much we haven’t done, babe.”

Her eyes went wide and she held up four fingers. “There’s at least four things we haven’t done. Wall sex, lotus, bath tub—”

“Your tub’s too small,” I said, fighting my arousal.

“I was going to say that, so we’re agreed.” A mischievous gleam hit her blue eyes. “And you’ve yet to claim my ass.”

“Is that everything?” I asked, grinning.

“You ask that like it’s a joke. This is no laughing matter, Tundra. I take my fuckfests very seriously.”

My brows went up. “Have you had many fuckfests in the past?”

She scoffed. “No. This is my first, but I’m determined to do it up right.”