Page 4 of Thorsten Wisely Dicey MC

This man knows the effect of every move he has, and I hate to admit the smirk he’s giving me is in fact a panty-wetting one.

“You’re fun to hotwire, babe.” He chuckles. “You give a whole damn new meaning to fire in your pants. Your ignition time is fire.”

The only reaction to that is sticking out my tongue. His eyes widen a fraction when he sees my piercing. He’s standing close enough to read the “fuck off” written on it and I guess it’s why he throws his head back and barks out a laugh.

I’ve been preparing to engage with members of this MC for months. Have read files and watched video surveillance on every single member. Yet, standing face-to-face with Thorsten makes me aware the man has many sides…one of them radiates sex…and it’s something I’ve underestimated.

“What the fuck are you baking?” someone asks, and I turn to see it’s a biker I know as Lenz.

I have to be careful with using names, though. None of them have introduced themselves to me.

“I’m a baker for both humans and dogs. I’m making dog muffins, hence the smell.” The words have barely tumbled from my lips when he pulls out his phone.

Macsen wanders through my living room and disappears into my bedroom. I try to step around Thorsten to see what the hell Macsen is doing when he blocks me.

“Move,” I grit and raise my voice. “Hey, rude biker in my bedroom, get the fuck out of there.” I glare at Lenz who’s focused on his phone, and then face Thorsten. “I’d like for y’all to leave. Hell, I didn’t even invite you in, and I sure as hell don’t know who you bunch are. Except for the fact you fuckers might be my neighbors due to the leather vests you guys are wearing with the same logo that’s on the building next door.”

“Mind telling us why you moved in next door to us, and who the fuck you really are? ’Cause you sure as fuck ain’t no damn baker. You don’t even have a website, let alone a dog to make treats for.”

My attention slides to Lenz and I stride to the door where I dropped my shirt. Snatching it from the floor, I shake it off before pulling it on.

Swinging the door open I grit, “Last time. Get. The. Fuck. Out of my damn house.”

“Technically it’s not your house,” Lenz states.

I flip him off without looking in his direction. “No, it’s owned by my landlord, Rye Beckett. I’m renting it, asshole. Me, Livi Stone, of Livi’s Muffin and Stuff ’em. Totally not nice to meet you.” I turn to face Lenz, since no one moved. “And for your information, not everyone has a damn website. I only have a social media page and started out with supplying my friends, and their pets, with my baked goods. Then their friends and that’s how I built my regular list of clients. I have a damn form I check twice a day and my phone number is also listed on my social media page. Besides, didn’t you see my damn food truck sitting in the driveway? You know, the one you had to pass to get to my fucking door? Right. Okay. Bye now, Mister Smartypants.”

Thorsten barks out another laugh while Lenz mutters, “Yeah, I noticed the food truck, and you do have a nice social media page.” Lenz tilts his head. “Why no dog?”

Sadness hits me. It might be part of my cover, but it’s also true when I honestly tell him, “My dog died three weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Thorsten rumbles and closes the distance between us as he holds out his hand for me to take. “Thorsten Rhyland.”

“Livi Stone.” I slide my fingers over his palm to shake his hand.

I’m glad to have thrown out my name before touching him because I wouldn’t trust my voice right now. Hot damn. I swear it feels as if sparks dance between our palms, shooting fire up my arm, filling my body with heat. Ripping my hand from his, I clear my throat and quickly glance at Lenz.

“This asshole here is Macsen, I’m Lenz. Sucks about your dog, and I’m an asshole as well for some of the comments I made. You can never be too careful, you know?”

“Like opening your front door and having bikers invade your privacy?” I dryly reply and glare at Macsen.

The corner of Lenz’s mouth twitches and Macsen chuckles.

“You didn’t have any pictures in the living room, so I had to check the bedroom. Cute dog, what breed was he…or she?” Macsen questions.

“English bulldog,” Lenz grunts.

I snap my fingers in the guy’s direction. “Get off your damn phone and fucking ask a person questions and let them answer themselves.” Throwing Macsen a nasty look I add, “And definitely don’t go into another person’s bedroom to snoop. Shit. You’re lucky I just moved in and didn’t have time to dump panties and other stuff all over the damn floor.”

Lenz and Macsen chuckle while Thorsten is now glaring at Macsen.

Taking a deep breath, I ask, “Anyone want something to drink? I have to clean up my kitchen and finish these muffins, but you’re welcome to hang around. Oh, and if you’d like to have a muffin, the ones I made for human consumption of course, they’re in the box on the counter.”

Thorsten opens the box and takes out a muffin. He holds my gaze as he takes a bite. The groan of appreciation rumbling through his chest makes my insides freaking tingle. Dammit. He’s one of the main targets the task force wants to take down. I’ve been preparing for this undercover job for months, and now my body is reacting to him in a way I’ve never experienced.

Something tells me there’s nothing I could have done to prepare myself for Thorsten Rhyland. Though, I’d be damned if I fucked-up my first undercover job due to the way my body reacts to this man.

CHAPTER THREE

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