Screw (Hell's Handlers MC 8)

It’d been so damn long…

Eventually, he stepped back, capturing her lower lip between his teeth and giving a firm tug as he left her. To her everlasting shame, Jazz stood there for long seconds, eyes closed, mouth parted and waiting for him to return. Only the heavy trod of booted feet on her wood floor had her eyes fluttering open and her hands releasing his jacket.

Instead of the arrogance of a victory smile, Screw watched her with undisguised lust. The man was more potent than all booze in the world.

“Guess I got my answer,” he whispered.

“What?”

“There’s no way he fucked you. Only a fool would let you out of their bed within hours of getting you there. And I may not like the guy, but if he has your interest, at least we know he’s not a fool. See you later, Jazzy.”

With that, he stepped around her and opened the front door. Jazz followed him with her gaze. Who was that man?

“Bye, Gummy Bear,” he called over his shoulder right before pulling the door shut behind him. Ahh, there he was. The Screw she knew. Not the confounding version of Screw who’d seemed to have been replaced by some sincere and genuine body snatcher.

Turning back around, Jazz met Gumby’s stare. She pushed a hand through her hair, aware once again she wasn’t wearing a bra. And if she thought her hair messy before, it had to be a complete rat’s nest now that’s Screw had run his fingers all through it.

She shivered at the recent memory.

“Uhh, sorry about that,” she said, pushing past Gumby into the kitchen. “You sleep okay?”

When he didn’t speak, she spun to find him in her kitchen holding the coffee Screw had brought her. “You forgot something.”

So much for ignoring the elephant in the room. “Thanks.” Had he seen Screw kiss her stupid? If so, what the hell was he thinking? His expression didn’t reveal much.

Gumby crossed his arms over his chest and propped his hip against the door frame. The position had his black T-shirt riding up, revealing a strip of chiseled abs and of course, that goddamned V all women went bananas over. Arousal sparked by Screw’s mouth and hands reignited at the sight of Gumby looking all delicious and…hungry.

Holy crap, did she need to get laid. Aside from the few times Screw had touched her in the past few weeks, it’d been close to two years since any man had his hands on her body. Clearly, she was having some kind of adverse reaction to strictly self-induced orgasms if two different men in the span of five minutes had her fired up.

“I’m gonna, uh, take a shower,” she said, jerking her thumb in the direction of her bedroom. “I can make some breakfast when I get out, or you can just help yourself to whatever if you don’t want to wait.”

Gumby walked toward her, stalked was more like it, stopping when he was close enough to touch. Jazz had to tip her head back to meet his gaze. “Not your ol’ man, huh?” he asked, smoothing his thumb over her swollen lips.

Shit, he had seen them.

“No,” she whispered, fighting the desire to close her eyes and lean into the caress.

“Missed you, Jazzy.” No one in Crystal Rock had ever called her that, but the moment Screw added that y to the end of her name, it’d taken off here. She had to admit she liked it. The little nickname made her feel like family.

Guilt swirled through her, settling in her core. How did she tell him she hadn’t missed him? First because of misplaced anger and then because she hadn’t allowed herself to think of him and the feelings he’d evoked for so long.

Self-preservation.

But now that he was here, standing in her kitchen, his thumb stroking the fluttering pulses at the base of her throat, a longing she’d buried came rushing back to the surface with surprising ferocity.

She swallowed hard, feeling his hand stroking her sensitive skin. God, how would those hands feel coasting all over her? It’d been so long since she’d been touched on the skin she hid beneath her clothes. And it would continue that way, so she needed to get out of her head and stop these ridiculous musings.

“Go shower. Then how about we take a drive through the mountains and find a place for breakfast.”

“Uh, sure,” she said with a nod. Going to the diner was out of the question. She wanted to be alone with him when they continued their talk. If they went to her place of business, the curious stares and nosy questions from her friends would make her nuts. At this point, she wasn’t ready or willing to talk about many of the things they’d want to know.

Gumby released her then stepped back, keeping his gaze locked with hers. It smoldered, hot and needy, causing a ripple of excitement to run down her spine. Everything she’d felt for him, everything she’d wanted from him came rushing back, including the physical desire.