Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC #2)(4)

The thief continued to smirk at me as if I was some kind of amusing child. I did not appreciate the fact he didn’t consider me a worthy foe, regardless of the fact he had about two feet and fifty pounds on me and he wasn’t only wearing heels and La Perla. I glared at him.

“I’m guessing you must be Amy,” he stated causally, shamelessly eyeing my barely clad body.

I stood straight, refusing to cover myself; this was my freaking apartment, after all. I also refused to acknowledge the flutter of desire that came with his gaze. Getting turned on by a man who had just broken into your apartment? That’s f*cked up, Amy, no matter how hot he is.

“How do you know my name?” I questioned.

Shit, maybe he was here to kidnap me and hold me for ransom. The hottest guy I’d laid eyes on in my life and he wasn’t around to date me, but kidnap me. Great. But then again, that accent sounded familiar. I had a feeling I was missing something.

The hunk crossed his arms and I failed not to appreciate the way his veins bulged when he did that. I mentally shook myself. Focus. Strange man in house, not good.

“Every time I talk to Gwen she mentions you at least four times. Although she failed to quite accurately describe you.” His voice was full of manly appreciation and so was his gaze, which had my nipples in danger of popping out from the seriously flimsy material encasing them.

That was not my main concern right now, considering my brain was the one in control of this situation, although my ovaries were fighting for the opportunity to rub up against him. Something flared at the edge of my mind while I battled not to have weird burglar sex fantasies.

“You’re Gwen’s brother,” I said slowly, doing a mental forehead slap. I had completely forgotten he was arriving today, regardless of the fact Gwen had informed me this morning. But in my defense I had only had one cup of coffee, which meant my brain only had control over limited motor function. It was only number three at which I processed and retained information.

“Amy, don’t forget that Ian’s arriving today. I’ve left a key with the doorman, so don’t be freaked if you come home to a strange man in the apartment—he is not there to rape or murder you. And try not to walk around naked, either.”

Shit.

“Ian.” Gwen’s seriously hot brother shocked me back into the present moment. “What?” I asked, trying to figure out if there was anything in the immediate vicinity to cover up my nakedness. I subtly glanced around for a robe, a throw…hell, I’d settle for a rug. I was out of luck. In any other situation I would have been happy to be in such a state of undress in front of a sex god, but meeting my best friend’s brother for the first time was something that required clothing. And in his case, a chastity belt.

“The name’s Ian. I would shake your hand, but I’m figuring you might want to put away the deadly weapon and put on some clothes before we exchange pleasantries.” He nodded to my body, eyes teasing. My panties dampened at the underlying sexual hunger in his gaze. Not appropriate, Amy.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the view,” he continued cheekily.

I felt my face flame. I threw the candlestick back on the side table with a clatter without breaking eye contact with Ian.

“Um, yes, I think that would be wise. I’ll just, ah…” I pointed with my thumb to the direction of my room while sidestepping there, really not wanting to share the fact I was wearing a g-string.

“You do that,” Ian responded, eyes sparkling.

I had made it to the edge of the room with Ian watching me the whole time, even though the polite thing would have been to avert his gaze or excuse himself to the corner. But no, he just kept the edge of his attractive mouth up; his green eyes had both rendered me mute and sparked a flame of desire that made me want to jump him then and there.

I am not a woman who gets rendered mute. Especially with men. I’ve always thought of it as my kind of superpower. I could flirt my ass off and pretty much use my feminine wiles to mold men into my little puppets. I don’t mean to be vain or anything but it’s the truth. Some people are math geniuses or brilliant artists; I’m a man whisperer.

But not with this one. Oh no, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I spent the entirety of my journey to my bedroom slack-jawed and drooling. This guy had a presence, an air about him that screamed male. His hungry male gaze maintained eye contact with me as I edged into the hallway, then rushed into my room.

In the safety of my bedroom I gathered my scrambled thoughts. The first one being that Gwen’s brother was hot. I shouldn’t be surprised, considering Gwen was a total babe and I had seen photos of him. Hotness ran in the family. But photos seemed a poor representation of the real thing.

His dark hair was shaved close to his skull in a military buzz cut, which didn’t make him look like a skinhead or a lice victim. No, it made him look like a bad ass. Think Channing Tatum in G.I Joe times a thousand. He had a square masculine jaw and freaking amazing green eyes like Gwen’s. His face was not classically handsome; it was rugged and masculine as f*ck.

His body. I couldn’t get stuck on that thought for too long or I would turn into a drooling mess on the floor. He was built, like built. Broad shoulders and some crazy defined arms, it looked like he bench pressed cars for shits and giggles. His tee unfortunately didn’t give me a view of his abs, but I knew they were there. He’d probably have that amazing ‘v’ that pointed to the most important part on a male. Unfortunately I hadn’t got to check out his no doubt amazing jean-clad ass, but I bet I could eat a steak off it.