Speed King (Men of Action 1)

I straighten, hook an arm around her middle, and lay her across my lap. “You aren’t going home.”

She crinkles her eyes in confusion. “What?”

“Next weekend, the weekend after that, any fucking time you want to be here, you are here.”

“Okay, I get that. But between the Simms, the Powers, and the Whitmans, this house will be bursting at the seams with people. Not to mention, this is the Whitmans’ home. It’s not appropriate—”

“How old am I?” I cut her off.

“Twenty-nine in November.”

“Twenty-nine. The other guys are almost thirty. We are men, Jay. Our living arrangements may be unconventional, but it doesn’t change the fact that we’re men. We have our own space, we pay our way, and the moment we moved in, it became ours. That is a directive from the Whitmans. They know the men we are. None of us plan to live here forever, but it’s a convenience we are grateful for.”

“What if I am more comfortable going home?”

“Then that’s an entirely different conversation. But if you think you’re going home because it’s inappropriate, forget it.”

“I was trying to be polite!”

“You want to be polite, offer them a drink when they walk in the door and welcome them.”

“I don’t even live here. That would be incredibly awkward.”

“Going back to the fact that I live here, and with me comes you.”

“That is bizarre logic.” She tries to sound strong, but the fire fades from her glare. “These people don’t even know me.”

“They know me and they will love you.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.”

“No pressure. Invite Rich, Amanda, and Jewls. Like you said, it’s a family weekend. Talon’s right. If Jewls wants to stay, she’s welcome.”

“I’ll mention it.” Her hands move to frame my face, and she scales her nails through the stubble. She remains quiet, her expression thoughtful as the flames of the fire crackle and pop a few feet away. My mind travels back to countless nights on bases. I’d sit with men and women, listening to them reminisce about home and stare into the embers, wondering about her.

“What are you thinking about?”

“The endless amount of times I’ve sat around a fire wishing I was doing exactly what I’m doing now, holding you in my arms.”

She inhales softly, running the pad of her thumb along my bottom lip. “The hidden facets of my Achilles.”

“Facets?”

“Intense, bossy, guarded, possessive beyond belief, soft, sweet, reflective, protective… all of them.”

“I’m not sure anyone has ever referred to me as soft and sweet.”

“That’s because you give that to me. Did I mention tempting? Hot? Unbelievably sexy?”

“That describes you.”

She kisses me lightly, then settles back, moving a hand to my chest. “You know there’s a fireplace in your room.”

“I’m aware.”

“We could put a fluffy rug on your floor for when it gets too cold to sit out here. The weather’s changing already.”

“The term fluffy rug hits hard at my masculinity.”

“Not sure it’s possible your masculinity could take a hit.”

“We’ll see,” I half-commit, nuzzling into her neck so she can’t see my grin.

Looks like I’ll be buying a new rug tomorrow.

12

Harley

“Are you falling asleep again?” Ace’s smooth voice rumbles in my ear.

I shake my head.

“Then you want to tell me what’s on your mind?”

No, I don’t want to tell him what’s on my mind. Because what I’m thinking about is exactly what my next moves are to break his will of steel. So far, nothing has worked.

Last night didn’t go exactly as planned, considering I fell asleep in his lap by the fire and he carried me to bed. The skimpy silk pajamas I bought remained packed in my overnight bag because I was too tired to go through the effort. Instead, I took the shirt off his back–literally— shed my clothes to put it on, stumbled into the bathroom to brush my teeth, and then into bed. He curled in beside me a few minutes later, and I passed out on his chest.

This morning, I woke up sprawled half on top of him, my calf twisted around his thigh. He was already awake, his fingers weaving lightly through my hair. Even in my drowsy state, I couldn’t miss the hardness pressing against my knee. My hand skimmed down his bare chest, and right when I hit the waistband, he stopped my exploration by clutching my wrist and yanking it back to his chest.

That was the first, but not the only time he stopped me today. I know little about the game of seduction, but I am pretty sure I’m failing at it. Years of paying for my Cosmo subscription have gotten me nowhere.

Tonight, he’d suggested the hot tub, and it seemed like the perfect plan. My heart skipped a beat when I walked out of his bathroom and his eyes turned molten at the sight of my barely-there midnight blue bikini.

This was by far my most revealing piece of clothing outside of complete nudity. Truth be told, I am practically naked. Jewls told me about a store that specializes in stunning lingerie and swimwear. I am pretty sure they meant this bikini for an exotic dancer, but I bought it anyway. The look of savage hunger that took over made every penny worth it. His eyes darted from me to the bed, and I knew I had him.