Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC #2)(10)

I tried my best to look innocent. I was afraid that didn’t work, considering I had just been daydreaming about getting f*cked by the man standing in front of me. While in front of my uncle. I needed to see a psychiatrist.

“It’s only happened once before,” I argued, trying to get my head in the game and away from thoughts of Ian’s penis.

Garrett raised his eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe twice,” I conceded, feeling red creep up my cheeks. I never blushed. I was beginning to worry Ian was the catalyst for some kind of medical condition. Was pheromone poisoning a thing?

“This one’s a handful, my man, but she’s worth it.” Garrett winked at me and I cringed; for some reason my favorite uncle thinking I was involved with this sexy piece of male deliciousness was a blow. Maybe it was because he actually cared about my personal life, unlike the rest of my family, and would ask about Ian the next time we talked. I would then have to correct him in telling him who Ian really was and how he was so off limits. Like carbs or refined sugar.

I opened my mouth to correct him but someone beat me to it.

“I know she is,” Ian declared, gazing down at me intensely and not at all platonically.

So maybe tonight could be my cheat night. I did it for diets; why couldn’t I do it for socially off limits men?

“As much as I would like to stick around and shoot the shit with you two, I’ve got to go and embarrass my sister. Have a good night.” Garrett winked at me again, pecked me on the cheek, then strutted off in the direction of my mother. I almost wanted to stay and watch the drama unfold.

“Time to go home.” A rough voice tickled the nape of my neck, sending shivers right down to my happy place.

I glanced up to meet Ian’s eyes yet again, about to say something when the hunger in his gaze stopped me short. I only managed to nod stupidly and let him lead me out the door.

The promise in his eyes, in his tone, the hand on my back, it all spoke a language I was fluent in. Sex. I wanted Ian more than I had ever wanted another man. I had never felt this attracted to anyone before. And that’s saying something since I’d dated a couple of seriously yummy Calvin Klein models. Ian was just so male. Not just in the way he looked, but how he acted, so different than all the men I had in my sexual past. Maybe it was because he was from New Zealand; an exotic, different kind of male than I was used to. Masculinity seemed to waft off him. If that’s how they bred them in New Zealand I should seriously consider moving there.

I had to fight it though, no matter how freakishly strong our connection was. It would be a seriously uncool thing for me to do to my best friend. Ian and I would have amazing mind blowing sex, then something would happen, we’d end it and it would be supremely awkward for the rest of time. I wouldn’t do it.

“You hungry?” I asked Ian as he opened the door for me.

“Fucking ravenous,” he answered in a gravelly voice, eyes flaring.

I gulped and tried not to picture the fact his eyes were not talking about food. Nope. I failed. The image of him in between my legs, using that beautiful mouth to make me come made my knees buckle. I shook my head.

“Me too. For food, I mean. Yes, food,” I stuttered, trying to find my cool.

Ian watched me with a smirk.

“There’s an awesome pizza place in Brooklyn that boasts the best pie in the city. The least I can do is buy you dinner after subjecting you to that horror. I bet you wish you were back in the war zone now,” I joked.

Ian stopped us at the curb, hand on the door to our car. “You have no idea how happy I am to be right here. All that,” he gestured to the hotel, “was worth every f*cking second cause it meant I was with the most beautiful woman in the room. Every guy in there wished he was in my shoes.”

I stared up at him, unprepared for that response and unprepared for the emotions it garnered within me.

Luckily Ian didn’t wait for a verbal reply, which I was thankful for. He opened the door. “And there’s no way you’re paying a dime for the pizza.”

I couldn’t argue because the door shut behind me. I sighed and leaned back into the seat. I wondered how I wasn’t going to pounce on this guy.

“So, tell me what it’s like being a big, badass, alpha soldier,” I asked, munching on my second piece of pizza, enjoying the carby goodness. I was hoping that since I was binging on something off limits in the food department I would have some willpower left to resist Ian.

Ian watched me a beat then answered. “I don’t know about the ‘big, badass alpha’ bit, but I enjoy the army. I work with some decent guys who are like brothers,” he shrugged. “It’s what I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.”

His answer was so not satisfactory.

“Come on, you’ve got to give me more than that. Do you know how to disarm a nuke? Do you chop the blue wire or the red wire? Can you kill a man in twenty different ways by touching a specific pressure point on their body? Give me the deets.”

Ian stared at me a moment, then burst out laughing. Boy, was that a wonderful sight. I watched the cords of his neck move and started to squirm in my seat.

“Jesus Christ, you’re a laugh, woman—you’re not at all what you seem. You growing up to be who you are is like a flower growing through a crack in the sidewalk.”

I tried my hardest to ignore the power behind Ian’s gaze, the connection that seemed to be buzzing between us.