Infatuation

“Ain’t gonna put it down.” I don’t bother looking around. I know I have one guy to my left, and another to my right.

“Just fucking shoot him.” The weasel on the ground shouts to his friends, but no one reacts.

“What the fuck you doing, Baz? Told you to cool off with this Sandra shit,” another voice asks, this time from my right.

“I don’t want any fucking trouble. Your boy, Baz, here had his gun to my head. Misunderstanding. He has the wrong man.”

The air is quiet as everyone waits for someone to make the next move.

“I will find her.” Baz comes to his feet, but doesn’t step closer.

No fucking chance in hell he’s finding her.

“I wish you luck, but I don’t know who you’re looking for.” I lower the gun and place it in the waistband of my jeans.

“That’s my gun, asshole.”

“And now it’s mine. Next time you put a gun to a man’s head, make sure you pull the trigger.” I mount my ride, confident neither Baz nor the two guys will push the matter. There’s no proof. I made sure of it. And they’d be stupid to push it either way, especially on our turf.

They all stay back as I put my helmet on. My eye is already swelling and my head is pounding. Baz begins to say something, but I start my bike and let the rumble wash away his voice.

I’m sure something will come out of tonight. I just fucked up a Warrior and took his gun. But I don’t give a shit. He’s on our territory. He’s lucky I didn’t use his gun on him.

I give one more look back at Baz and take off. I take the long route home, taking extra back streets to weed out any tail I might have. I don’t think I do, but I won’t take any chances with Mackenzie now living with me.

After making sure I’m clear, I pull into my driveway and shut down my bike.

The house is lit up like a Christmas tree, and I shake my head.

Damn woman, I don’t know why she has to have every light on in the house.

Before I go in to see her, I walk across the street to the truck Hunter sits in. He lowers the window when I’m close enough.

“What the fuck happened to you?” He notices my eye right away.

“You should see the other guy. Everything okay here?” I ignore his question and ask the important shit.

“Yeah, nothing happening.”

“Good. You can head out now. I’m in for the rest of the night.” I tap the top of his truck and turn to walk away.

“Oh, ya might wanna tell your woman, maybe not come out on the porch wearing what she’s wearing tonight.” I turn and watch him put his hands up in surrender, just like Baz did earlier. “Just saying, bro. Had both neighbors out earlier practically eye fucking her.” He starts his truck and peels down the street before I can tell him to fuck off.

Great. More shit to deal with tonight.

Thirteen

Mackenzie

I hear the rumble of his bike as he pulls into the drive and I race to the sofa, quickly opening my book and finding the page I was on, not wanting to look like I’ve been waiting for him.

Even if I have been.

It’s been just over a week since I moved in. A week of living in each other’s space. Of pure hell. Pure sex-god, hot-body, sexy-as-sin, beard-wearing, and fantastic hair hell.

The man is under my skin and living in close proximity is not helping at all.

Apparently, I didn’t think this through when I agreed to live here. Yeah, I admit there was something between Beau and I. Something pulling me to him. I don’t deny it. The kiss alone back at the clubhouse proved it, but I didn’t realize how intense those feelings would grow since living in his space.

After the first day of awkwardness, things just seemed to fit into place, both of us settling back into our relaxed way. We’ve always been able to talk comfortably with each other, even with the slight tension to begin with, and it is no different here than at the clubhouse.

Until it became complicated with what I’ve been calling the first incident.

It happened on day four. I had left my body wash on my bed before my morning shower. I didn’t realize until I had stepped under the water. I knew going by the first few mornings Beau didn’t wake until I had finished in the shower, so I decided to risk a mad dash back to my room in a towel. I made it safely, undetected. His door still firmly closed.

That wasn’t the problem. It was what I heard when I stepped into my room.

Moaning. A lot of freaking moaning. And my name. Beau moaning my name.

I nearly came apart right then and there. He was pleasuring himself, and calling out my name. At first I didn’t know how to respond. I knew we both were hiding our real feelings, but I never imagined it would come to this. It was almost like we were both punishing ourselves for no reason at all. Not sure how I felt about it, I grabbed my wash and raced back to the shower as fast as I could. I tried to push the image out of my head. It didn’t help. It’s all I could picture for the next two days.

Until the second incident played out on day six.

I was watching a movie on the sofa late one afternoon. Beau had been moving around the house for most of the day doing his thing and leaving me alone, until he came and joined me. I was lying on my side, taking up all the space. I moved to sit up and make some room for him, but he beat me to it and lifted my legs, planted his ass at the end then rested my feet in his lap.

“Stay,” is all he said when I tried to lift my legs. How was I going to argue with him? I couldn’t, so I gave up and forced myself to focus my attention back on the movie while he held my ankle in his hand and used his thumb to circle a soft pattern into my skin. At first I didn’t think anything of it. It felt nice and maybe I just needed nice for once. But then a hot steamy scene came on and the room reached sky-high tension. I felt it. He felt it. My vagina felt it. I’m sure Barry the old man next door I met two days ago felt it. I tried not to react. My eyes stayed firmly planted on the TV and I willed myself not to read into it.