My Bad (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 4)

The fuckers.

My face had likely been singed due to the amount of blushing I’d been doing over the last five minutes.

God, sometimes little sisters were the worst!

“I’ll see you tomorrow for game night. You should bring Hoax.” She paused and turned in the middle of the road, her gaze going to the big man who was standing there watching it all go down with not a single hint of amusement on his face. “You can come, too, Benson.”

Bayou narrowed his eyes at her. “Bayou. Not Benson.”

“You went by Benson back then,” she said, not agreeing to call him by his name.

“I go by Bayou now.” He shrugged.

“So you’ll come?” she asked.

“No,” he told her flatly.

“Huh,” she shrugged. “Your loss. Game night is badass.”

Then she turned and walked to her car.

“Can you at least go get your trash and shit out of my living room?” I called after her.

“Oh, yes!” She hurried to the house, leaving her truck door hanging wide open.

“Your sister’s a little bit of a hot mess,” Hoax muttered laughingly. “I like her.”

“My sister’s definitely a handful,” I admitted, turning once again. “You can let me go now.”

“In time,” he said. “I kind of like where my hand’s at.”

He flexed his fingers, and I felt one graze over the crack of my ass.

I shivered slightly, unwilling to admit that that small little caress made me feel more things in that instant than I had during my entire relationship with the last man I’d dated.

Hearing my front door slam, I turned to see Phoebe walking out of my house with a bag of chips that I’d just bought at the store that morning and her purse.

I rolled my eyes and waved when she got into her truck. Pulling away moments later, I was left standing there awkwardly while Hoax finished washing off the truck.

When he’d move, I’d move with him.

It was about the time he was handing the hose over to Bayou that I noticed he no longer had his cast.

“Your cast is off,” I said dumbly.

“Yep,” he agreed. “Got it off this morning because I got a rock in it. They cut it off, then went ahead and x-rayed it. Since it finally looked good, they allowed me to keep it off, but still want me to go easy on it for the next week before they officially release me. I had to have it put back on the last time I had it removed since it wasn’t quite healed.”

Hearing about him officially being released made my heart stutter.

Because, from what I understood, the moment he was released he was free to go back to doing whatever he did for the military.

I was thinking he was Delta Force seeing as he was so secretive about what he did, as well as the way he’d ducked out of every single picture that’d been taken the night that we’d been with my family. Meaning he likely had a really freakin’ dangerous job, and I needed to steer far, far away from him.

But I couldn’t help myself. Every time I went to tell myself he wasn’t good for me, I completely ignored it.

This man was addictive. Hell, he hadn’t spoken to me at all in three days, and I’d told myself that was good. Yet, I’d still watched the window for when he’d come home, and I’d still come over here without much of a protest.

Hell, I hadn’t even thrown a fit like I probably should have when he latched onto my waistband.

I wanted to be exactly where I was. There was no doubt about that.

And, based on my relationship history, this was likely about to go nowhere fast.

But Hoax was like a just made, hot and ready glazed donut.

It didn’t matter how full you were, whether you were on a low-carb diet, or where you were about to go. Almost nobody could pass up a just-made donut that was still hot.

I sure as hell couldn’t.

And when my favorite donut shop had that stupid ‘hot donuts’ sign in the shop window, I’d never been able to help myself. I’d go in and get one, whether I needed one or not.

It was just the way life was for me.

This man, with his sexy beard and his all-too-knowing eyes, was my glazed donut. Something that I couldn’t resist…and if I were being honest, something that I wanted to taste and devour.

“All those thoughts,” Hoax murmured, pulling me close once again. “Grab a towel, honey. Help me dry my truck off.”

Then he let me go, and I immediately missed the heat down the back of my pants.

I would not complain, or let him know that he was getting to me.

Instead, I did what he asked of me and went to the towel that was sitting on the bike that was parked nearest the front door.