“I wanted to do more than kiss you stupid, but feel free to find reasons to halt it. Or feel free to admit you’ve just been playing a game you never thought you’d win, and now you don’t know what to do with me. Whatever you need.”
He walks by me, not looking back, and disappears into the bathroom. Cursing, I drop to the bed, removing my skates, as I listen to the shower come on.
“Most complicated man in the history of all complicated men,” I grumble.
There’s one way to check his temperature on this situation and find out if he’s legit into me all of the sudden.
I quickly strip out of my clothes, and I walk into the bathroom, seeing his naked silhouette through the frosted glass shower doors. I lick my lips, wondering why I thought it was a good idea to think I’d be running this thing.
Axle will consume me within minutes if I go through with this. He’ll hold all the power. Because it’s clear I’m way more into him than he is me.
But for some reason, it doesn’t really matter.
I move toward the shower doors, and I see it when he realizes I’m in here. Though I can’t see his face or eyes, I can feel his gaze on me as I open the door. I step in and look up into that intense, heated stare, and face him fully as I shut the door behind me.
Holy sexy male. Naked is a good look on him. I’ve seen him in boxers. I’ve seen him mostly naked. But truly naked? It’s beautiful.
My eyes fall down, and I see a curious scar on his massive beast of an erection. He’s definitely hard enough to prove he wants me.
I want to touch the scar that is near the base of his dick, but I’m scared now that I’m alone with him. What if I touch something he doesn’t want touched?
“Why don’t you like being touched?” I ask him, peering up at him carefully.
The water sprays against his back. His dark hair looks even darker all wet, and he runs a hand through it, making it stick up in a way that I find much too sexy.
“I told you I only don’t like being touched when I don’t want to be touched,” he tells me quietly.
“Do you want to be touched right now? Because I don’t think I could survive a hit from you, if we’re being honest.”
His hands pause and he scans my face. “I wouldn’t hit you. I’d just shove you off me if I didn’t want you touching me. But that hasn’t been a fucking problem since you showed up.”
He grabs my wrist, and I hiss out a breath as he jerks me against him. My other hand slams against his wet, hard chest, and he studies me like he’s waiting for a reaction.
“When I first joined as a prospect, I was still a punk teenager—naïve and horny as fuck. A woman was all over me all night at my first party. It was the first time a female had ever acted like the scars didn’t bother her. Acted like I didn’t scare the shit out of her.”
My hand slides higher on his chest, and he releases my other wrist, using his newly freed hand to gingerly grab my hair and hold my head so that I’m forced to stare up into his pale eyes.
“She fucked me. Took my virginity like a pro. Then stole close to twenty grand in cash from the club after I stupidly asked her to spend the night. Herrin had her by the hair the next morning, and all the guys in his circle were taking turns with her. See? They knew what was coming, so she never made it out the door.”
My stomach roils. He sure as hell knows how to kill a mood.
“It was him and five of his closest men, all of them planning to punish her for weeks. So when Herrin told me it was my turn, I grabbed a gun from the counter and shot her between the eyes. Figured that was mercy. They considered it to mean I was a coldhearted bastard. Herrin was wary of me from then on.”
I swallow audibly as he stares down at me with unreadable eyes.
“I got my cuts that night, and I haven’t been stupid like that since then. So yeah, I have trust issues with girls who claim they want me. Girls who look like you and throw themselves at me.”
My hand slides up, touching the scar over his lip. He goes still against me, but I keep touching him. He said he’d just shove me off if he didn’t want it.
“I’ve watched three guys I’ve dated die because they were too naïve for this life,” I tell him suddenly, swallowing against the knot in my throat. “Three men who weren’t survivors. They were just guys in over their heads, and that was with my identity being mostly a secret. Imagine if more people knew who I was.”