“Then I’d tell you I would be there in fifteen minutes.”
Twelve minutes later, I heard a truck pull into the driveway, and as I zipped up my case, my uncle Bull and Ruger appeared in my room.
Instantly, my heart went to my throat. Because, before we go any further, I should probably explain that I have a major crush on Ruger.
Okay, major crush was probably an understatement.
To be completely honest, I have an undeniable longing to get naked with him.
I know, the guy is a hundred years older than me and was more of an uncle than a friend, and more of a father figure than a confidant, but tell that to my poor heart. It has a mind of its own, or so it seemed, and lately whenever I see him my pulse picks up speed and my skin flushes. I reverted to being a teenager who lost her ability for speech.
Not to mention her IQ.
And since I was being really honest, the truth was, I was fantasizing about seeing him naked more and more.
Yeah. A lot more.
Like right now, as he walked into my waterlogged bedroom looking like fifty fucking shades of sexy, all broad-shouldered and thick muscles in his Kings of Mayhem cut over his white t-shirt and black slacks.
He was six-foot-something of pure sex on a stick.
Whatever the hell that meant.
“You’re staying with me,” my uncle said, taking in the sodden carpet and water-stained walls.
I finally tore my eyes off Ruger to look at him. “Um, not a good idea.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Why not?”
“Well, because …”
“Give me one good reason.”
“Because I would drive you crazy. And God knows you’d drive me crazy.”
I was pretty sure I was the only person on the planet who could make the formidable president of the Kings of Mayhem look hurt.
But one blink and it was gone.
“Then tell me where you’re going to stay, Sherlock?” He folded his arms across his broad chest.
I shrugged. “Well…”
I’m pretty sure my uncle went through my options and came up with the same zero options I had.
“She can stay with me,” Ruger said, appearing in the doorway. While my uncle and I had been talking, Ruger had busied himself by checking out the rest of the apartment.
Now he was back, waving an invitation for me to come live with him.
My heart dislodged itself and took flight in my chest.
I looked at him. “Really?”
“Sure, why not? I’ve got the room. And it’s closer to Hum-U than here. There’s also one hell of a security system, too, so you know you’ll be safe.”
I looked at my uncle who, by the look on his face, didn’t seem to hate the idea.
I considered it. Ruger was right. His house was closer to campus, which would help with the travel time between home, work, and school. It also had a pool. A big, sparkling saltwater pool that was going to be heavenly when the sultry Mississippi summer really ignited.
I looked back at Ruger.
It also had a really good view.
“Okay, if you’re sure…”
I couldn’t say I wasn’t excited by the idea of living with him.
Not that anything could ever happen.
My uncle had made it clear to every member of the Kings of Mayhem that I was strictly off limits. And by made clear, I mean he let them know that if any of them laid a finger on me they’d lose their balls.
Besides, Ruger would never see me as anything more than an almost niece.
“That’s settled then,” he said with a delicious grin. “You’ll move in with me for a few weeks.”
I grinned back at him.
Sure, Ruger was an unreachable dream. Like me, he was completely off limits and in the no-go zone. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t look.
And it certainly didn’t mean I couldn’t fantasize.
I grinned to myself as I followed him outside and threw my suitcase into his truck.
The summer just got a helluva lot hotter.
CHASTITY
“So where did you ending up staying?” my boss Simone asked.
We were standing out in front of Wax-It. Ten minutes earlier, the fire alarm had gone off in the small strip mall where we worked and everyone had piled out onto the street while the fire department investigated the cause. Now we had to wait for them to declare it safe before we could go back inside.
While we waited, Jane, the hairdresser at the salon, stood with us, smoking a cigarette with one hand and fanning herself with the other.
It was hot.
Stinking hot.
The air was heavy with heat, and without the blast of air conditioning, we were sweltering on the sidewalk.
“With my uncle’s best friend,” I replied, using a salon brochure to fan myself. “His name is Ruger.”
Jane’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, is Ruger a biker, too? Is he hot? I bet he’s hot. He’s hot, isn’t he?”
That was Jane, always asking the important questions first.