Page 94 of That Girl is Trouble

Another step, and her chest is practically touching mine, her chin tilting up to meet my gaze. “The one all the ladies can’t stop squealing about.”

I smirk. “Yeah? And what do they say? These ladies?”

She rolls her eyes and backs away, grabbing a cloth from the bench to wipe her hands before shutting off her car. “Like I’d tell you. We don’t need that head of yours getting any bigger.”

I give her a once-over, my focus drifting down her tight little body, my hand twitching to feel her skin, to feel the clap of my palm against her bare ass. The woman is teasing me. Pushing me.

I almost take the bait.

“You know, Kitty, if you’re gonna work on your car, you should wear shittier clothes. Ones you don’t care about getting dirty.” I jerk my head to a grease stain marking her mid-thigh.

“Nineties grunge is back, baby,” she says with a wink. “Grease, dirt, and grime will only make these more fashionable.”

“That’s the dumbest shit I ever heard.”

“Way it is. Get with the trends, Axe.”

“What do you know about the nineties? How can you appreciate a trend if you didn’t even live through it the first time?”

“Don’t be such an old man.”

I narrow my eyes. “Old? That why you got a little thing for me, Kat? You like the older ones?”

“A little thing? Seriously?” she says, tossing the grease-covered rag on top of Tex’s toolbox. “What is this? High school?”

“You did graduate about five minutes ago.”

Kat bites down on her smile. “You don’t have to worry. Just a schoolgirl crush,” she says with another eye roll, “and I’m over it.”

I grab for her hand and pull her into my body so roughly a surprised huff of air escapes her as our chests slam together. “Over it, eh?”

“That’s right.”

“How ’bout now?” I shouldn’t do this—touch her, feel her, let my fingers slide where they got no business being. But I move my hands down the curve of her body, over the exposed skin of her stomach and around her back. Goose bumps explode under my palms, and her breath catches as I dip my lips to her ear. “Still over it?”

“Yes,” she rasps, but her hands are skimming up my arms, her nails digging into my skin.

“And now?” I ask as I press my mouth to her neck.

She shivers and she sags, her knees going so weak she throws out a hand to steady herself on her car.

I chuckle. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Maybe,” I say, pulling back so our eyes meet. She squirms in my arms, every movement making my jeans tighter. And maybe she notices, because her eyes dip down between us, and she lets an almost triumphant smile slide over her face.

“Sure it’s not you with a little thing, Axe?”

I bark out a laugh. “It’s anything but little, Kitty. Or have you forgotten?”

She bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes darkening. No way she isn’t thinking about it—wet, naked, at my feet, the morning I took her mouth but should have taken more.

Fuck. I’ve been barely hanging on. The woman’s been climbing in my bed half-naked for weeks, and I’m only human. Most mornings I’m dousing myself in a cold shower with a throbbing fucking erection and an ache in my balls after she leaves, and lately, my hand doesn’t seem to be doing the trick. Doesn’t help that every time I’m in that goddamn shower, all I can think about is how good those cherry lips looked when they were stretched wide around my cock.

“You wanna go for a ride?” I ask her, and when her eyebrows hit her hairline, I clarify. “I mean on my bike.”

“Hell yeah, I do,” she says with a grin, but then her smile fades. “Oh, actually no. I can’t. I promised Moxy I’d help her behind the bar after I was done with this. You Sinners are animals on Saturday nights.”

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