Shades (Reckless Souls MC 3)

“So you want me,” he says with a smile that turns to laughter as heat flames my face. “It’s all right, Letty. I want you too, even though you’re the last woman on Earth I should want.”

That was good to know, but instead of relief, I’m hurt. “What’s so wrong with me?”

“You’re hot as fuck, Letty, don’t get me wrong. I’d love to slide between those creamy thighs of yours. But you’re a goody-two-shoes. And a church girl. And you’re probably in search of a husband. I don’t go for any of those things when I’m on the hunt for a good woman.”

On the hunt. It should sound sexist and misogynistic to my ears, but it makes me pulse between my thighs. Makes me feel like the prey of some very sexy monster.

But right on the heels of that pulsing comes the feeling of a foolish little girl. I deflate at his words, his easy dismissal of me, and I use it as fuel to finish my work rather than spend hours alone with this man who makes me feel off-kilter.

“All done,” I tell him a little too brightly.

Shades looks down at his phone and then back up at me with a nod.

“All right.” He unfurls his big body from the chair and stands, revealing tattooed, well-muscled skin when he stretches.

“I’m going home in just a few minutes, so there’s no need for you to waste any more of your time here. Thank you for keeping us safe today.” Even if he’s only doing it to protect his own interests.

“I’m walking you to your car, church girl.”

I shake my head. “That really isn’t necessary, Shades. I’ll be fine.”

“It is necessary and non-negotiable.” His words come out harsh and inflexible, his body taut with tension. If I have to guess, I’d call it sexual tension because this thing that ricochets between us like a white-hot pinball is unlike anything I have ever felt before.

This kind of attraction is new to me, and as eager as I am to explore it, I know I can’t. I have to squash any attraction I have to this man.

I take a deep breath and shove down this desire, this arousal, where it will never see the light of day until the time—and the man—is right.

“Okay,” I say finally when it becomes clear that his resolve is stronger than mine.

Shades remains quiet as I shut down my computer, lock my office door, and head through the church, up the pews, and out of the front doors.

“Don’t you need to lock it?”

“This is a church; it doesn’t have operating hours.”

“Jesus is always open?”

My lips twitch. “Something like that.”

His body emanates heat beside me, and I feel a bead of sweat trickle down my spine. Why, of all the men in the world, in college and at church, charities, and other volunteer efforts, did this man have to be the one to light my fire?

My chastity buddy in college, Jeremy Ogden, was hotter than a Hemsworth, and even he didn’t produce this kind of reaction within me.

“Want to have dinner?”

He frowns. “Why?”

“Because you clearly aren’t going anywhere, and if you’re going to stick around for the foreseeable future, we should get to know each other a little better.”

“That’s not a good idea, Letty.” His voice is gravelly, and goosebumps climb up my arms.

“Why not? Maybe it will, I don’t know, relieve this tension between us?”

He turns to me when I stop at my driver’s side door, a dark look in his—finally uncovered—eyes. His body presses up against me, and I feel his hard—uhm, manhood—behind his zipper and gasp.

Shades’ body feels as if it’s glued to me when his lips crash down on top of mine. He hips grind against my own as his lips and tongue and teeth work together to kiss me until I’m senseless and out of breath.

His hands roam my hips, and his thumbs graze my hard nipples, smiling against my mouth when I groan. His lips dot hot kisses from my mouth down to my throat, and my hips roll uncontrollably.