Hunter (The Untouchables MC 6)

I hope I do, anyway.

There's a reason they call them bad boys, I reminded myself. They were bad for you no matter how good they looked. Just because something was off limits, didn’t mean it was worth the risk.

I wanted to run into the house when I came back around the block. I forced myself to walk slowly. To act like I didn’t feel his eyes on me. To ignore the still and silent man completely as he stood and slowly wiped the grease from one of his tools, his eyes never straying from my face, the curve of my hips, my legs.

I could feel those eyes against my bare skin for the rest of the night.

Chapter Seven

Hunter

I put the cap back on the oil gauge, which I'd checked for the tenth time this month. I loved my ride, but now I was working on my side piece while Jaken dealt with Lady. This was getting ridiculous. All the same, I had my reasons for the overzealous maintenance.

Hell, I needed a reason for hanging around in my front yard. I’d already painted the outside of the house and pulled out all the overgrown bushes. I’d replanted shrubs along the side of the house and put down landscaping fabric covered in mulch. I was spending as much time as possible outside for my own nefarious reasons.

It was all just an excuse to see her. The gorgeous girl next door who had somehow wiggled her tight little ass under my skin. I was obsessed. I hadn’t felt like this about a woman in my life. I hadn't stopped thinking about her since that day in the kitchen.

Not even for an instant. I was sporting ten boners a day. That had to be a record at my age. And I hadn't hung out with any of the club girls, either, even though they always offered. I knew they wouldn't be able to scratch this particular giant itch.

Only Claire could.

So I worked on my bike. And my other bike. And I did maintenance to the front of the house.

It's not like I could just sit out front in a lawn chair with a beer and a bag of popcorn, waiting for Claire to come out and put on a show.

I grinned. It wasn't such a bad idea, actually. I wondered what Little Miss Short Shorts would say about that. Probably a lot. Claire was very sure of her own opinions, among other things, something I found frustrating and exciting. I had figured out a lot about her over the past ten days.

First of all, she had at least three pairs of those tiny little denim cutoffs. I knew. I was counting them.

I wasn't a religious man, but I thanked God every day this week that it was still so unseasonably warm out.

Claire definitely did not have a boyfriend either, I decided. Nobody who was that pent up was getting laid. I liked that about her. I liked it a lot.

I'd be more than happy to be the one to help her unwind.

It took less than twenty-four hours after meeting her for me to give in and stop fighting the insane attraction I felt for my prissy little neighbor.

Prissy, uptight, and priggish.

Damn, though. The girl was fine.

And come hell or high water, she was going to be mine.

I waited under the bike long enough for her to swish back this way. I wanted to have a second look. She was wearing a different T-shirt today. This one was really old and worn-in, making it nearly see-through. Probably hadn't done laundry in a while, what with the big test she was studying for.

She was a hard ass worker, there was no doubt about that. I respected the fuck out of that. She would make a good old lady. You had to be smart and on top of your shit, especially since I was second in command.

I felt my mouth go dry thinking about how soft that shirt must be. I'd love to get my hands on it. To feel her luscious tits through the shirt, maybe tease her a little before I slowly lifted it over her head.

"Hunter!"

I sat up sharply, banging my head on the underside of the bike.

My sweet neighbor Ellie was on her stoop waving something at me. Breakfast, it looked like. I grinned and waved her over. I couldn't stand up at the moment without showing off the giant tent in front of my pants.

I saw Claire walk inside from the corner of my eye.

Damn, now I had to wait a whole day to watch her fine ass walk away from me again. Claire had given new meaning to the expression ‘I hate to see you go but I love to watch you leave.’

Boy, did I ever.

It was a good thing those muffins were so good. It was almost worth missing those legs sauntering by.