Page 44 of Tracking Luxe

Forget about Nathan. He’d completed his part, hadn’t he?

Only, why wasn’t she moving? Why was she reaching for her phone to-------

“Hey, thief. Looking for me?” She heard.

And it was the most wonderful annoying voice as she spun on her heel to find him grinning leaning up against the wall.

Luxe attacked first, eating up the dirty alleyway in fast steps she threw herself into his wide chest, cussing him viciously in her grandmother’s native tongue telling him how stupid and reckless he was and why the hell had it taken him so long to follow her.

Her heart about ripped out of her rib cage, thumping so hard, frantic, she grabbed both sides of his face and yanked him down, crushing his mouth, kissing him with all her anger and worry.

She couldn’t stop kissing him, punishing him with slashes of her tongue for fucking daring to make her care if he got hurt, he groaned and grabbed her tight, a hardness digging into her belly brought her back to reality. Only when Luxe thought she wouldn’t kill him did she draw away, his hands stayed around her waist.

“Not gonna question what that was about, only that you shouldn’t have stopped, Luxe. Want to do it again?”

Gathering herself, she leaned her forehead on his chest, arms banded around his back just to hold herself up as a sequence of shivers traveled through her.

She was a two-person team, Luxe only worried for herself and Mimi, now she was a shaking wreck, so relieved this big fool was okay.

To get back on an even footing she pinched his ribs and cussed him out again.

“Jackass.”

******

The dirty rotten thief had a mouth on her, that was for sure. He didn’t catch every word, she was mumbling too fast, but the gist was he was thoughtless and she hated him. Grinder bit back a grin, fingered through her hair and enjoyed their bodies together.

Was it bad that he liked her like this? A little defenseless, a little…unravelled burrowed into his side? Probably.

He wanted to take care of her, just put her in his pocket and carry her around a bit and make sure she had everything she ever needed.

It had taken him longer than anticipated to get out of the party, not that there was any danger, but so as not to arise suspicion, he’d circulated the room once more, talked to another blonde wanting to spend time with him, made like he was making a fuck-date with her, then spoke a bit to a guy from Westbank Falls who owed a share of gun stores. He’d nodded to Snake who knew to get Luxe out safely.

His only concern had been about her.

Somewhere during tonight, watching her, it had become so much more than repaying a debt.

He claimed her with his dirty stare.

When men approached her, and she gave them her wicked beaming smile, he’d claimed her for himself, even as he forced himself to do the job, to walk away and leave her in a room full of bastards who looked at her with lust, his same lust, he’d felt the change like a physical thing.

And now Grinder knew he was either drunk or slowly slipping into dementia. Was dementia the one where you wanted to have a woman to take care of? He should ask Lawless that shit, the crazy fucker knew everything that needed to know.

For as long as he could remember Grinder had a deep-seated secret, for all his bravado and his hit it and quit it not being ensnared by the pink and the wet pussies he’d always wanted to have that kind of forever-fucking-after love.

To know his old lady relied on him, needed him, not that she was weak in any way shape or form, she’d be strong minded, his equal in everything, could stand on her own two feet just fine, but to know she’d come to him for whatever she needed, fuck if his cock didn’t ache to have someone for himself, fuck if his heart didn’t stutter to wonder … was it Luxe?

Is that why he hadn’t forgotten her, couldn’t let this theft transgression drop, the way he’d gone like a bull the minute he knew she was back in his area again, and not to mention the motel room, for fucks sake, if that wasn’t a glaring clue he might need his head checked over by a team of doctors. He’d focused on the wrong damn thing.

He could picture coming home to her, couldn’t he?

Shit, the image was there in his mind, all the sweet, dirty sex they’d have in the hallway because she couldn’t wait for him to drop his jacket or kick off his boots, she’d just hear his bike pull into the garage and go at him, all claws and teeth, biting him, demanding shit from him, andshit… he’d give her anything, he’d be her damn dutiful sex-giving biker, wouldn’t he?

Heat penetrated his ribs, her trembling body burrowed closer, he frowned and tightened an arm around Luxe. “Hey, love, you’re shaking, you okay?”

“I need….” he caught mumbled into his shirt. Damn she really was shuddering now. Cupping the back of her head, he tipped it up. Every fiber of his body came roaring alive, his dick began to twitch and grow because he recognized the heat in her dark eyes, didn’t he? It was, after all, every fucking thing he was feeling all at once as well. “Tell me what you need,” he grated through clenched teeth, a second away from giving it to her without her saying a word, he crowded her back against the alley wall.

Say it. Say it.

---