Shades practically falls into the passenger seat with less grace than usual. One hand lands on my thigh to stabilize himself in an upright position. “Letty.”
“Shades,” I choke out because his hand is big and hot and so close to where I’m throbbing. “Have a good time tonight?”
“Better now.” He grins and leans forward, his lips press against mine in a kiss that starts chaste, but his tongue joins the party. Before I know it, his hand slides up my thigh, his fingers brush between my thighs, and I gasp.
“Shit,” he pulls back with wide eyes. “Sorry.”
I shake off the disappointment of his apology and sit a little taller behind the steering wheel, pretending there’s not some unsatisfied throb deep in my belly. The answer to that throb is the man beside me, who just apologized for caressing me like I’m some porcelain collectible doll on the shelf, destined to remain untouched.
“Where do you live?”
“Right,” he growls and types his address into my GPS system, the whole time leaving his hand on my thigh.
I pull out of the parking lot with one plan, to get Shades home safely and head back to my bedroom, where thoughts of his touch can wander unrestrained all night.
The silence in the car is deafening, and I’m sure that my only purpose here is as a designated driver, a disappointing but not at all surprising realization.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Letty. I know we’re all wrong for each other, and you have a justified fear of my lifestyle, but dammit, I can’t get you out of my head.”
His words come out rough and anguished, the pressure of his hand on my thigh increases.
“Two of my brothers, Ace and Coop, both fell for girls that were all wrong for them.”
He let out a humorless scoff, but I’m on the edge of my seat to hear the story.
“Bikers falling in love with rich girls. Seems kind of wrong. Beautiful women hanging out with the likes of us. But they’re happy. Like HAPPY. Damn, I’m drunk.”
He pauses for a few seconds and looks over at me and sighs.
“But I guess love is love.”
I say softly, “That doesn’t sound so bad.” The stories sound to me like love truly does conquer all, whether it is socioeconomic differences or lifestyle differences.
“It’s not,” he admits reluctantly. “It’s great. Ace is our president, and we served in the Marines together. I’ve never seen him so fucking happy with his ol’ lady. And Coop? He and Kels live together. She’s pregnant and in medical school. They’re over the fuckin’ moon in love.”
My brows dip in confusion, and I risk a quick look at him. “So, what’s the problem?”
“The problem is… that those girls went to hell and back because of the club.” He shakes his head. “I mean hell with a fuckin’ capital H. They were beaten and sexually assaulted, tied up, locked in a basement. All of that happened because of us, and I don’t want that to happen to you. You’re so good and so fucking innocent and beautiful that I would hate myself to see that light in your blue eyes go out because of me.”
I don’t know what to say. My breath catches in my throat at the emotion in his words. They say there’s truth in wine, and I can tell that, yeah, he might regret it come morning, but right now, Shades is telling me the absolute, unvarnished truth.
I shift into park in a wide driveway that leads to a cute little house on a residential block.
“We’re here. Let’s get you inside.”
He smiles and stumbles out of the car, and I’m right on his heels, flinging one of his arms around my shoulder. He looks down at me with a crooked smile.
“You good?”
“Perfect,” I say.
“Good. Me, too.” He stands in front of the door, staring at it in confusion. “This is my place.” His hand lands on the door absently, and I slide between his big body and the dark blue door.
“How much did you actually drink?” I ask and pat his pockets in search of his keys.
“At least buy me dinner first,” he jokes. “I drank to get you out of my head. Didn’t work.”
I find the keys in his front pocket and gasp at the intimacy of the simple act of removing his keys. My body trembles with desire, and I realize I need to shove him inside and get home as fast as I can. I’d hate to do something I’ll regret later. But he is pretty drunk.