Page 18 of Bullseye
Yeah, tonight may be my only chance to be with Seneca Villetrio. So, I say, the hell with caution.
Carpe. Freaking. Diem.
Chapter Six
Wildfire
“It was very nice of you to ride home with me.”
We’re parked a few spots away from each other in the lot next to my apartment building. Pulling off my black and purple skull cap helmet, I run my fingers through my short hair as Avery approaches. Swinging my leg back and over the seat, I hop off of my bike.
Even though the highway is right behind the building and there’s always the incessant roar of traffic passing by on their way to or from Phoenix, at this hour, it’s quieter. Cutting the engines of the bikes makes it downright peaceful.
Nodding, he walks toward me with a swagger I’ve never before seen from him. Unfastening his gloves, he puts a fingertip between his teeth, pulls, rips off his gloves, and then tosses them. They land on the ground right next to his bike.
Hanging my helmet off of my handlebars, I turn to catch Avery moving even closer to me—and his walk is all animal. It’s like his shoulders are just too heavy to keep balanced over his hips, and he’s about to burst out of his jeans…
“I wasn’t being nice.” His voice is gruffer than the usual slick Avery I know. “I did it for me.”
“Oh?” Yeah, I am definitely a woman who can take care of herself, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have needs. And the stronger I am, the more masculine I need my man to be.
And looking at him walking to me right now, his leather jacket with the Steel Knights emblem open, exposing a tight black T-shirt that hangs just right over his jeans… Avery “Bullseye” Pairings is the definition of masculinity.
My heart races, and I swallow as he steps up to me. Before I even know what’s happening, he’s standing directly before me and reaching out, placing a hand on my cheek. His hand is warm and strong, and feels so damned right…
Tilting his chin downward with the tips of my fingers, I look up into his eyes. Even in the dim light of the parking lot, I can see them blaze with hunger and passion. And I want more…
But what am I doing? How can I do this when Matt’s parole has been denied, and he’s sitting in jail on a bogus charge?
Nuzzling against Avery’s hand and feeling the calluses graze against my skin, some long-denied hunger comes raging forth. Clamping my hand onto his, I press his hand harder against my face, worrying that if he were to let go, everything in the universe would just float away.
There is nothing I can do for Matt right now, and this night will pass whether I’m with Bullseye or not.
“Why are you here?” I ask. I know the answer, but it feels too good to let go of the moment.
“I was worried about Seth causing you trouble. He was staring at you the whole damn night, and I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
“Well, no matter how he looks at me, I don’t look at him in any way at all. I would have thought you knew that by now.”
Closing my eyes, I let myself get caught up in his scent and the energy bouncing between us. Feeling protected by his uber-masculine aura, the feeling radiates downward, causing a moistness in my panties…
Even though tonight will have to be make-believe, like the rest of my life, it’s nice not to have to be alone for a while.
Opening my eyes, he looks hungry. Leaning down, his strong, full lips graze against mine… He hovers just above me, inhaling my exhales, drinking me in. He presses his lips harder and—
“What was that?” Pulling away and standing up tall, he reaches out with his hand and grabs me, pushing me back behind him. “I heard something in the bushes on the side of the building.”
My breath is racing even more, and I’m caught in this whirlwind of excitement and terror as he backs us up, onto the cement walkway leading to the building.
“What was it?” I whisper. Something in my gut stirs and closing my eyes, I fear the worst.
Mikey and Tony.
No, I can’t drag him into my world, but if it is those two thugs, and they’ve finally found me… Selfishly, right now I am so very grateful I’m being sheltered by Bullseye.
“I don’t know,” he whispers. “Don’t move.”
His left hand is still cradling me and holding me behind his back, and with his right, he reaches into the waistband of his jeans and puts his hand on his piece.
