Havoc (Tattoos and Ties 1)

“Sure you should even be here?” The deep rich tone of his voice held a hard edge, giving Alec all the clues he needed. The man had put two and two together with his employment. Of course, he had. It was written right on his business card. The handsome biker studied him—the stare direct and intense. A hot, sexy, I’m-going-to-do-bad-things-to-you stare, but he had that domineering quality too. The one that dares you to argue back, the one that says, “I won’t back down.”

Untrustworthy people didn’t look you in the eye. This guy refused to look away. Alec had met the gaze of enough criminals to know when someone was lying or had something to hide. He’d bet his car that this guy didn’t. To say he was awestruck couldn’t convey the feelings coursing through his core. Unfortunately, the beautiful man seemed as unaffected as Alec was affected.

And boy, did that suck.

Deciding not to answer, Alec chose to go another direction. “I saw the reviews on this place. Your company’s very impressive. It’s hard to receive an average four point eight stars out of, what, four hundred reviews?”

The motorcycle man didn’t reply. He just blinked, those strong hands coming to rest at his waist.

“With the wide selection of tires I kept reading about and the way you had the spare specialty tire, I decided you were my best bet on getting back on the road today.”

The guarded appraisal continued, and Alec held his tongue and waited this out. Those eyes were a remarkable color. Alec suspected, depending on his clothes, they could be a vibrant blue or sea foam green. Today, the black T-shirt made all the colors mesmerizing, even the almost hidden gold flecks.

The biker abruptly turned and left him standing there, heading toward the Ferrari in the empty lot.

“Okay,” Alec whispered under his breath. After a heartbeat, Alec followed, watching that nice ass flex with every step. A sexy whole-body strut, his back as spectacular as his front. This time the shirt stretched in such a way that all those muscles were defined, and Alec’s mouth watered. Key bent at the knee, examining the wheel before standing again and gathering that long, thick hair in his hands then expertly twisted it into a man bun, securing it with a rubber band from his wrist.

Holy hell, he was transfixed by the sight, unable to look away. All the things he could do with that knot on the back of his head…

“I have two Pirelli Z 305s. I can let ’em go for three hundred each.”

It took Alec a second to pull himself together then another to remember why he stood in the middle of this parking lot. Tires. Yes. Okay. Tires. Not all the ways he could tangle that silky hair around his fist while plowing the guy’s ass. Tires, Alec. Think rubber, wheels, lug nuts, grease. Tires.

“That’s fine. Less money than I expected,” Alec finally said.

“We offer things at a discount,” he muttered, walking back toward him. Alec held his ground, turning his whole body as the motorcycle man passed, going back into the dark recesses of the shop.

“I don’t expect a discount,” Alec called out. Having the biker gone made thinking so much easier. “I also need to pay you for last night.”

If Key heard, he didn’t answer. Alec wondered if this quiet thing was all the time or just around him. With a cock of his head, he decided quiet was better. He could think of plenty of things to do with that mouth that didn’t involve one single word.

Once Keyes was reasonably certain he was hidden, he bent to his knees, digging the heel of his palms hard into his eyes, willing himself to pull his shit together. What the fuck was going on? Way past the point of tired, Keyes wasn’t operating on all cylinders, but Alec Pierce was standing in his shop, looking hot as fucking hell in a pair of well-worn jeans and a Harvard sweatshirt that Keyes was pretty certain had been purchased at the same time the guy had probably gone to school there. Shit, he was so damn screwed.

He knew better than this. Forget the sexy! A damn district attorney was in his shop the day after a federal raid. What if any of his brothers drove past and took a closer look to see what was going on with a fucking Ferrari in his goddamn parking lot? What if his old man dropped by? That caused his heart to trip. They’d never believe the coincidence of all this. The worry was enough to have him lifting his head, staring at the tires as if he could see the man standing on the other side.

Finally, he stood to his full height, his brows knitted together as he lectured himself. He had to be careful. Coincidence was too much for even him to believe.