Spec (Hell's Handlers MC Florida Chapter 2)

CHAPTER EIGHT

TWO DAYS LATER, Scott was still kicking his ass for the hour and a half he spent regaling Olivia with story after story about her brother. In his defense, she’d looked hotter than sin sitting there in a dark purple bikini that deepened the green of her eyes. Those eyes had held a note of fear that brought out his protective streak. He hadn’t been able to leave her there, and the desire to stay had nothing to do with an obligation to Deke and everything to do with him.

And his dick.

Idiot.

So now he was pissed. Mostly at himself, but he wasn’t known for making the most rational decisions when angry.

He pounded on Olivia’s door like he had a whole SWAT team there to draw her out.

“What?” Olivia’s muffled voice came from behind the thin walls. “Um, just a minute,” she called. “I’m coming.”

The door cracked, and one eyeball appeared in the sliver. She still had the chain lock latched. “Scott? Is everything okay?” The sleep hadn’t left her voice, giving it a rougher quality than usual.

With a huffed laugh, he shook his head. “You were sleeping.”

“Yeah. It’s only eight-thirty, not that late. And it’s Saturday.”

“Open the door, Olivia.”

“Uh, I’m not really prepared to receive visitors right now.”

He grunted. “Prepared to receive visitors? What the fuck is this, the Victorian era?”

“Uh, no, it’s not,” she said, getting a little kick of that sass she loved to dole out.

He’d die before admitting it, but something about how her hackles rose got him hot. She didn’t fear him but gave it right back.

“I’m not properly dressed, and I don’t have any makeup on. That’s all I meant.”

Like he gave a shit? He could see a sliver of sweatpants through the cracked door, so she wasn’t naked.

Wait, fuck. The word ‘naked’ stuck in his head. She’d be gorgeous naked. All that smooth skin she spent so much money caring for. Hell, he’d pay money to see her in those sweatpants too. And not because she’d look all cute and rumpled straight from her bed.

Wait, was there more to why she didn’t want him coming in? Oh, hell no. He slapped his palm on the door. “Olivia, I swear to God, if you’ve got one of my brothers in there…”

The one eyebrow he could see wrinkled in confusion. “What? Why would one of your brothers be in here?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Because you’re fucking him?” Curly would be pissed if he murdered one of his brothers, but he could already feel the fury heating his blood. Fury, not jealousy. He wasn’t sure he could control himself if Tracker or Jinx or hell, any of them, walked out of her apartment.

She gasped. “You’re a pig. And not that it’s any of your business, but I’m completely alone. Believe me, there are a million men I’d sleep with before lowering myself to a biker.”

Part of him, most of him, wanted to kick the door in and show her just how little she meant by that weak declaration. He bet he could have her dripping for him in minutes, begging for his cock.

Of course, he’d have to melt that impenetrable layer of ice first, so maybe not.

It melted the other day while she laughed at your stories about Deke.

She had a gorgeous smile.

He scowled. “Just get your ass down to the clubhouse. Maybe try to show a little gratitude to the woman who gave you a free fucking place to stay, huh?”

Olivia’s spine snapped straight, and the emerald eye glaring at him narrowed.

“What’s a matter, princess? Not used to someone calling you out on your behavior? When you’re staying at someone’s house, and they invite you to a family breakfast, you get up and fucking go. Even if you miss an hour or two of your precious beauty sleep. And if you’re not selfish, you get up even earlier and help with shit.”

She pursed her pouty lips. If she’d been able to shoot fire from her eyes, he’d be burning for sure. Instead of blasting him as he’d assumed she would, she nodded once. “Please tell Brooke I’ll be down in ten minutes. And don’t call me princess.”

The door shut in his face, and that was that. Shaking his head, he jogged down the stairs and over to the clubhouse. About fifty yards separated the two buildings. Enough for him to have some privacy but be available to Curly and the club whenever necessary.

As he entered the building, the smell of bacon and coffee had saliva pooling in his mouth. First to arrive, he went straight to the kitchen to see what he could do for Brooke. Anything to help get him back on Curly’s good side after this shit with Olivia. And the shit with the guy whose ass he kicked at the bar last week.