Page 22 of Manny

“Maybe? I see, thenmaybeI need to make my intentions more obvious?”

My lips part as he pulls up in front of Hope’s place, puts the truck in park, and then turns to me. Grabbing my face with both hands, his mouth is on mine. His lips are surprisingly soft, and it’s with a small moan that he increases the tempo, his tongue just right as it seeks mine and my pussy aches with need. Between him and my flirting with Manny — the man I’ve now put on permanent pause — I need to get off. When we pull back, I’m panting.

“Wow, where did that come from?”

He stares at me, his green eyes so freaking pretty for a biker. He’s too pretty, a lot like Manny. Even though they’re chalk and cheese, they’re cut from the same cloth. Even if Bandit is a little rougher around the edges, I know he’s a good guy.

“I’ve been holding back. I’m sorry.”

I cock a brow. “Uh, huh. Took you long enough to make a move.”

“I’m a schmuck.”

“You are a little.” I smile as he continues to watch me. I forgot how intense he was.

Then he shrugs. “What about you and Manny? You two seem cozy.”

Shit, am I that transparent?

“We’re just friends.” I don’t need to tell him the nitty gritty now that me and Manny aren’t anything. Then again, I could test the waters a little… “I mean, I like him. He’s fun, and my new landlord, I’ve gotta stay on his good side. Plus, all the girls are good with Manny, not just me.”

“Like him? Orlikehim?” He presses. So that’s all he picked up on?

I swallow hard, his intensity is like nothing else. He’s imposing and demanding. I can’t get enough of it. Maybe he’s jealous? I like that idea, even though I know I shouldn’t. I clear my throat. “We’re not exclusive, Bandit.”

“That wasn’t the question.” His eyes blaze.

“He’s a friend.”

“He looks at you like he wants to fuck you.”

My eyes go round. “You did not just say that.”

He snorts. “I’m a man. I know how they think.”

“I’m single,” I remind him. “You and me? We’re not a thing. And we’re not even dating. We’refriendswho hang out and get drunk together, and might I remind you, we’re not even fucking. So, please spare me the lecture on what I can and can’t do. Put your money where your mouth is, or we can move on. Your choice.”

His eyebrows raise. I don’t think Bandit is used to a woman speaking to him that way. He stares at me for a long moment before moving back. He clicks his seatbelt undone and exits the truck. I puff air out of my cheeks and do the same, scurrying outof the car as he strides toward the front door. “You’re mad at me?” It’s not a question.

I don’t like fighting. I don’t like bickering or raising voices. It reminds me of my childhood…

He ignores me. I overtake him, heading to the porch where I have the boxes stacked up. I turn to face him, but he tries to move past me. “So now I’m getting the silent treatment because I was honest?”

He grunts. This is what he does. Acts like a big child when he can’t get his own way, or when something doesn’t go quite the way he wants it. Well, fuck him. I’m a free agent. I don’t need him or anyone else telling me what I can do.

He grabs two of the boxes, his muscles straining as I try to keep a straight thought in my head. How can I be mad at him and want him at the same time? His body is freaking insane. Ripped and perfect, his tattoos making him look like a freaking badass. He got a fresh one. I can tell by the bandage covering it and I want to ask him about it, but now seems like a bad time. Silently, we move the boxes from the porch to his truck and then head over to East Riverside.

“I’m not mad at you,” he says about ten minutes into the journey.

I fold my arms over my chest and silently seethe. “Oh, wow, he speaks.”

I feel his gaze shift to me. “I just… I didn’t like the idea of you with another man for a second, and that was wrong of me. I… sometimes I don’t know how to control my feelings.”

At least he’s being honest, but I still crinkle my nose.

I snort. “Oh, I get it. We kissed once, and now you think you have some big biker claim over me? Well, think again, asswipe. I’m nobody’s property. I belong to myself. Not to you or anyone.”

This time I do turn to look at him, and his jaw ticks as he stares right ahead. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

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