Page 5 of Her Dirty Biker
“Try me.”
I shake my head. “Look, if this is about club business or whatever—”
“It is.”
“Well, I don’t want to be involved.”
“You already are.”
I hate that he’s right. I hate that I want to trust him. Ireallyhate how his gaze dips to my mouth and lingers there like he’s imagining the taste of me.
Heat floods my cheeks. I dart my tongue out to wet my lips.
He exhales hard, jaw clenching. “Fuck.”
“What?” I ask, voice smaller than I intend.
“You keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna do something stupid.”
“Like what?”
His voice drops to a growl. “Like pin you against that wall and make you sayplease.”
My stomach drops. My thighs squeeze. My heart races like a trapped animal.
I lift my chin instead. “Pretty bold for a guy who still hasn’t told me his real name.”
He smiles. It’s dark, slow, and lethal.
“Diesel,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Thatismy real name.”
A beat of silence, low, deliberate, like a challenge.
Something must short-circuit in my brain because I answer, “Okay, Daddy.”
His eyes darken. His body goes rigid. For a second, I think he’s going to grab me. Iwanthim to, but he doesn’t move. He stares, breathing hard, like I’ve reached inside him and twisted something primal.
“Don’t,” he rasps.
“Don’t what?”
“Say that unless youmeanit.”
I take a step back, but not out of fear, because I suddenly realize how very real this is.
“Then maybe you should stop looking at me like you want to ruin me,” I whisper.
He closes the distance between us with a single step, voice rough against my ear. “Maybe I do.”
And then—just as fast—he’s gone out the door. Leaving me breathless. Shaking.
Wrecked.
Chapter two
Diesel
I should’ve walked away the second she saidDaddy.
