Page 21 of The Biker and the Loner
Yams. I could laugh at the bizarre term of endearment, but I brought it on myself, so...
“It’s beenfive yearssince that happened. There have been many others since.”
He chuckles. “Liar.”
“How would you know?”
He shakes his head. “C’mon, you don’t think I’ve been keeping watch?”
Keeping watch? How could he…? Then it hits me. Onyx. That freckle-faced rat bastard! No matter where I went, we were always ‘running into’ each other. He was everywhere! I should have known he was spying on me. “That son of a—”
Scratch kisses me. He covers my mouth with his and steals my breath for the second time tonight. And once again, my traitorous body turns to putty in his hands, my stomach twisting and tightening, my heart beating tohisrhythm.
His lips are firm, yet soft. His tongue is dominant yet caressing. His kiss is like a song I want to keep on loop. Onlyhemakes me feel like this. Like a weak little girl. I’ve never been attracted to anyone else. Never lusted, starved for, or craved anyone else. Only him. Always, always him. My body zings with excitement when he’s around.
When he breaks the kiss and dips his head to catch my eyes, a gratified smirk dances on his lips as he whispers, “You waited for me, Ley.”
I did.
Or did I?
I don’t know. Everything about this man confuses me.
The ping and vibration of my phone saves me from having to respond to that statement. When I start to turn, he hesitates to free me from the grip of his powerful thighs, but then he sighs and releases me.
I slide my phone from my clutch and check the screen.
Isaac:Where have you disappeared to?
Me:Sorry. I’m not feeling well. I’m gonna head home.
Isaac: How are you getting home? Need me to drop you?
Me:No, I drove. And I only had two beers so I’m good.
Isaac:K. Well tell me when you get home so I know you got in safe. Lunch tomorrow?
Me:Sure.
“Yeah, ‘lunch tomorrow’ isn’t happening.”
“What…” I whip around to find Scratch reading my messages over my shoulder. “Boundaries, Scratch.”
“And why’d you lie about driving? You didn’t drive.”
How would he know that? “Have you been stalking me or something?”
“Only a little.”
“Please stop. That’s creepy.”
“Wouldn’t have to if you wouldanswer my calls.”
“Whatever,” I mutter. “I’m gonna head home. Try not to stalk me there, too.”
He straightens from the stool. “No need to, since I’ll be taking you.”
I pick up my clutch. “You’re not.”
