When He's Bad (Walker Security - Adrian's Trilogy 2)

The instant he kills the engine and unties me, I climb off and remove my helmet. Adrian does the same, attaching his to the bike and then doing the same with mine. And then he’s facing me, staring down at me—tall, dark, and deadly, and I like it.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” I assure him. “Completely. Amazing driving by the way. You really know how to—”

Suddenly, his hand is on my waist, possessive and warm, his touch stealing my words. He steps into me and I barely have time to catch my breath before his fingers twine in my hair, tilting my mouth to his. He hesitates, his mouth so close to my mouth, that I can almost taste him. I need to taste him. And then he’s kissing me, a deep, drugging, drag-me-under-his-spell kind of kiss that melts me right here in my shoes.

Engines roar up the driveway and a door opens. Adrian abruptly ends the kiss, releasing me, his chin lowering to his chest, eyes shut, lashes shadowing his cheeks. There’s a punch of regret in that action that tells me that kiss changes nothing. We are no more. He was simply riding the mix of adrenaline and all the crazy push and pull of emotions between us.

By the time a tall man with dark hair exits the house and Savage and Adam halt their bikes next to Adrian’s, I know our team is safe, at least for now. And I know where I stand with Adrian. At a distance.Chapter ThirteenPRI

The man I’d seen exit the house hurries toward us and extends his hand in my direction. “Hi, Pri. I’m Blake Walker.”

“Blake,” I say shaking his hand. “How are you here? Why are you here?” I can feel myself pale, adrenaline spiking again for a whole new reason. “God. Please tell me—”

“They’re fine,” Adrian says, his hand settling on my back, warm with promise and comfort, and when I look up at him, he confirms, “Your parents are fine.”

I breathe out in relief. “Thank you.”

“I would have told you if something had happened.”

“I know,” I say. “I know. I just thought—while we were on that bike—” I turn to Blake. “And you’re obviously here for a reason.”

“You two were hiding in a damn cave,” he says. “How the fuck could I not be here? When one of our own is in trouble, we stand with them.” He eyes Adrian. “That means you, asshole.” He doesn’t give Adrian a chance to reply. He motions to the door. “Let’s all go inside and talk and then you two can shower and get some rest.”

Savage and Adam join us and Savage grins and adds, “Because you look like shit. Just in case I forgot to tell you.”

“You did tell me,” I say. “And I know you remember.”

He grins. Blake arches a brow at him. “As my mama would say, you’re the pot calling the kettle black, man. You look like shit, but then, you were born that way, Savage. You can’t wash that off.”

I laugh and Adrian and I exchange a look—it just sort of happens, a familiar, intimate look, and yet the strain between us is there, a pulse that refuses to be ignored. Blake leads a path up the stairs, with Savage flanking him and talking smack. They’re family, I realize then, brothers. I understand why Adrian defended them so heartily when I suggested one of them might have betrayed him. They’re his family and yet so was his brother. I wonder—I wonder so many things.

Adam steps closer, parallel to me and Adrian, and gives me an inspection. I laugh. “Are you going to tell me I look like shit, too?”

“No,” he assures me. “I was just going to ask how you are. You had a hell of a ride out there.”

“I’m good,” I say. “Thank you for asking. It was actually kind of fun.” I laugh at the insanity of that reply. “Well, aside from the men shooting at us and the fact that we could have rolled and died at any moment.”

He smiles. Adam has a nice smile, a warm smile. A Captain America kind of smile, filled with charm and honor. “There was that.” He glances at Adrian. “I’ll see you inside.”

Adrian gives a barely perceptible nod and Adam walks away. I assume we will follow, actually taking a step to do so, but Adrian halts me with a softly spoken, “Pri.”

I pause, aware that he’s avoiding touching me. Facing him, our eyes collide, and Lord help me, that pulse is back. It never went away. “Are you really okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” I assure him. “You can stop worrying. I’m pretty darn daring as long as you don’t shove me into a small space.”

The rapidly rising sun beams down on us, almost as if it’s a warm spotlight, burning hotter by the moment. He steps closer, the air charging between us. “I know more about small spaces than you might think. And boxes. I’m in one now.”