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“Legs around me, darling.”

I did as told. My legs were wrapping around him. Why was I doing this? His lips on mine sent waves of lust through me. How did he get me so hot with just one touch? He held me up with one hand, and the other pushed up my dress.

My brain screamed to stop him. My heart screamed to get him closer. And my body was screaming to let him strip me and take me in the hallway.

So which one did I listen to?

All three. I pushed him away and then wrapped my arms around his neck, forcing him to keep kissing me. His hand had pushed my dress around my waist.

Fabric was all that was standing in the way of us being skin on skin. I thought I had sworn off him and here I was letting him invade my mouth and his hands explore my body.

He began to walk us out of the hallway. I didn’t know where he was taking me. I was too high on the taste of him and the way his hand was moving up from my waist. I knew where he was heading and I wasn’t stopping him. I should stop him. But I wasn’t going to.

I liked sex. I loved the release. But I usually had sex with men older than me. Not a man the same age as me.

He was a biker so I guess he wasn’t far off my usual type.

I pulled my lips from his just as he walked us up the stairs. “Tyson, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Sex with no strings was what I normally did. But I had seen how he reacted if I was with someone else. Tyson did strings.

“I think’s a perfect idea.” He kissed along my jaw. “You’ve had me hard since I first laid eyes on you.”

“Sex can complicate things.”

“Good.”

“Tyson.” I pulled away from him completely. His ‘good’ made it sound like he wanted things to become complicated between us. “I think now is the time to tell you I don’t do relationships. I do sex. But no strings.”

“I do sex with no strings as well.” He kept walking us, stopping at a door. “But with you I want strings.”

My mouth fell open. “Did you not hear me when I said I don’t do relationships?”

He smirked. “I’m normally the one saying that.” He reached out, cupping my face. “You are perfect, Layla.”

My breath got caught in my throat at that. No one had ever looked at me like the way he was looking at me. Immediately, I panicked.

“I think I should go.” I went to get out of his grasp and off him but he just held me in place.

“I’m not letting you go.”

“I can’t have sex with you.” I had made my decision. It was not the right time. If we had sex then he might look at it as something more than just that. “Not when you are looking at it as something more than sex.”

His expression dropped. I knew immediately he was looking at having sex with me as something more than just that. I could get sex from anywhere. I didn’t need strings. I didn’t need complications and I didn’t need him acting like a boyfriend.

“Sorry, Tyson.” I felt bad—no, terrible. He wanted more and I was the one holding back. He broke my trust. And he was looking at me like I was special or something. Like I was a rare diamond, and now that he’d discovered me, he wasn’t letting me go. “Maybe we should try and be friends?” I suggested.

Even though the image he’d showed me had proven to me he wasn’t really friend material, he was, however, boyfriend material. But I didn’t do relationships. I saw what relationships did. They complicated shit.

And Tyson seemed like a jealous and protective person. Two qualities I normally love. But I lived around other bikers. They did touch me. They joked with me. They were family. And if Tyson’s reaction was to cut me off for Cameron making a move on me, well, it showed he couldn’t cope with my lifestyle.

“You have sleepovers with Hannah, right?” he finally asked, confusing me.

“Yeah, of course. Why?” Hannah basically lived at my house.

“Then stay the night. With me.”

“I’m not having sex with you.”

“Don’t want you to. But I do want you to get to know me better.” The corner of his lips twitched up, like he had a plan. “Maybe one day I can change your mind on the whole no sex thing.”

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