Without giving her swirling mind a chance to talk her out of it, she raised a hand and knocked on LJ’s door.
“’S open,” came the slightly slurred reply.
Holly willed her hand to stop shaking, but it was a wasted effort. With unsteady fingers, she opened LJ’s door and stepped through.
“Fuck me,” LJ said on a groan as she stepped into his line of sight.
He lay sprawled out on his bed, shirtless, with an unzipped pair of jeans. His boots lay scattered haphazardly next to the bed. A half-full bottle of tequila rested against his side. Holly swallowed around a thick throat. He looked beyond sexy. All those rolling muscles and ink spread out on display. Like he was lying there just waiting for her to climb on and ride him.
“We need to talk,” she said.
He grunted. “We could skip the talk and just fuck.”
“It’s tempting,” Holly said, some hidden inner vixen taking over her tongue. “Really tempting.” This time she whispered the words. Holly had slept with a handful of men, not a crazy number, but she’d never been the aggressor. Never put herself out there and asked for it. Something about their chemistry seemed significant to her. As though indulging in LJ would somehow alter the course of her life. Could she really pass the experience by?
“But?” His voice made her jump.
Holly shored up her courage. “But you’ve left me hanging twice now. I don’t want a third strike.”
He sat straight up, grabbing the bottle with his left hand. Gaze dead-locked with hers, he rose and stalked toward her. Once he was close enough she had to look up, an advantage he seemed to enjoy, he spoke. “Your father is gunning for my club.”
“I didn’t know.” She couldn’t have torn her gaze away if the building exploded around her. His hazel eyes seemed greener tonight. Flecks of gold sparkled through them drawing her in. “The girls told me tonight. I had no idea that was happening, and I’m so sorry he messed with your work today.”
“But you know why he hates bikers.” Holly was eye level with the hard expanse of his broad chest. Resisting the urge to probe the muscles was proving more difficult by the second. Would his inked skin feel hot beneath her hands? His chest was free of hair, but a fuzzy brown trail ran down from his belly button and disappeared into his jeans, just begging her to follow the path.
“I know why he hates bikers.”
Her father wasn’t a bad guy, and certainly wasn’t a dirty cop, but his loathing of motorcycle clubs ran so deep, Holly wasn’t sure he’d ever approve of any of the men in this MC. But he was a fair man and a dedicated officer, so if the Handlers proved they weren’t a threat to the people of Townsend, her father would back off. She was sure of it.
LJ brushed her hair from her shoulders until it all hung down her back. She shivered as his coarse fingertips grazed her skin. He didn’t ask another question, but Holly felt the need to explain at least a little bit. “He’s dealt with some biker clubs in the past that have been…bad.”
“Bad?”
“My—my sister was kidnapped and murdered nearly thirteen years ago. The man who killed her was the president of a one-percenter motorcycle club.” Each word felt like a knife cut to her soul.
“She why you wear this?” He asked, fingering the best friend charm resting against her chest. The one she never took off. If she had any hope of keeping her wits about her, the man needed to stop touching her. Never before had she had such a strong physical reaction to a man. The moment his callused fingertip grazed her skin, all good sense flew right out of her head.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” His intense and concerned gaze had her believing he meant the words. He leaned down until she could smell the tequila on his breath. “So now you think all bikers are murderers?”
What did she think? With him so close, Holly could barely breathe, let alone get her brain cells in gear. Part of her wanted to say yes. To fall into the repetitive pattern she’d followed her whole life. The one where she let her parents dictate her thinking, but, as she stared into LJ’s eyes, she couldn’t do that. “No. I don’t.”
“Your father does.”
“Yes.”
“So now what?” He stayed close, his hands landing on her hips as his nose trailed up her neck.
Now I run!
That’d be the sensible thing. The safe choice. Were anyone in her family to find out about this, they’d be horrified. It’d be seen as the ultimate betrayal to her twin sister and her parents. But Joy was different. Joy grabbed life with both hands. Her best friend charm felt warm where it rested against her skin. Though she knew it was crazy, Holly often felt that heat in times where she needed advice, craved guidance. She’d always viewed it as Joy’s way of checking in on Holly’s life. A life she’d promised her twin she’d live for the both of them.