Page 3 of Thorsten Wisely Dicey MC

CHAPTER TWO

– LIVI –

A shot of adrenaline surges through me when my hand swings up, making the red fluid spray fucking everywhere.

“Motherfucker. I’m going to kill you,” I snarl. “When I get my fucking hands on you I’ll start by tearing off every damn limb.”

Whipping my head around I try to see where the hell he… the doorbell rings, followed by knocking.

“Dammit,” I grumble and stomp in the direction of the door.

Without looking I swing it open to find bikers on my doorstep. Not just any bikers, they are Wisely Dicey MC members whose clubhouse is right next door. I’ve been preparing for the past few months to go undercover and only moved into this property two days ago. Now they show up out of the blue?

I let my gaze slide over the biker standing in front of me. Piercing green eyes, scruffy jaw, messy dark blond hair, nose ring piercing, tattoos crawling up his neck and disappearing underneath the shirt he’s wearing under his leather cut. Big muscles by the look of the fabric stretching over his arms. He’s wearing black jeans and crisp white sneakers.

No biker boots. Sneakers. How weird.

“All good?” he rumbles, making my gaze fly up and collide with his.

All good? If he’s referring to his appearance, I’d say he’s more than good. Shit. I know exactly who this is. I’ve seen the photographs taken by the surveillance team of our task force. Standing in front of me is Thorsten Rhyland, the vice president of Wisely Dicey MC. His father, Rainer, is the president.

Suspicion hits as to why they would be on my doorstep, asking if all is good.

I cross my arms in front of my chest and narrow my eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

One of the other bikers, I recognize as Macsen, leans to the side and asks, “Done with the tearing off limbs yet? Or do you need some help?”

I glance down and realize I’m covered in crimson.

Huffing out a frustrated breath, I grumble, “I can handle my own business.”

Thorsten points a finger in my direction. “Spider.”

Adrenaline hits again and I don’t even think twice as I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head and off in one go. Throwing the shirt on the ground I stomp on it a few times to make sure I murdered the creepy crawler.

“Impressive, VP, you got her bouncing her tits with a single word.” Macsen chuckles.

“Motherfucker,” I mutter under my breath when I realize what just happened.

Very fucking professional for an undercover agent to be scared of freaking spiders. I let my lips curl into a smile and face the bikers. To be honest? I don’t give a fuck what I just did, and I surely don’t need to excuse myself to them for showing off my lace bra. I’m sure they’ve seen more tits than any breast surgeon in his whole career.

What I do care about is the asshole in front of me who’s gloating because by the look on his face? There was no spider and he took a lucky guess as to why I freaked out and covered myself with red liquid food coloring.

“Impressive?” I snap. “Mean is more like it.”

I’m about to shut the door when Thorsten kicks out and stops it with his crisp white sneaker.

“I was just making sure my observation was correct,” he rumbles and sticks his nose into the air. “What’s that smell?”

“Somethin’ burnin’?” Macsen questions.

For a split second I think my muffins might be burning, but then I remember the oven isn’t on yet. The fucker is trying to make me jump through his hoop again the way he did with the spider just now. Shit. I should play along ’cause he wants to come inside.

“Fuck,” I grumble and head for the kitchen.

The sound of footsteps behind me lets me know the bikers are coming inside.

Whirling around, I grit, “You did it again, didn’t you?”

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