Hooked (Viking Bastards MC #1)(9)
“So, do you live here alone?” I try to sound casual, and I think I succeed since he doesn’t immediately go on the defensive.
“Don’t worry about it, Grace.” His fingers massage the small of my back and it’s hard to concentrate. Except he hasn’t answered my question. “My kid sister won’t disturb us when she gets home.”
His sister? Relief rushes through me, making me dizzy. “You live here with your sister?” I almost cringe. Why did I say that? He just told me he did. Well, I assume that’s what he means.
“Yeah. Don’t let that stop you from screaming, though.” He gives another wicked grin, and I laugh because he doesn’t live with a woman and hasn’t just cheated on her with me.
Stop jumping to conclusions. I’ve no evidence that’s the truth, but somehow I just know it, deep inside.
“Just the two of you?” There’s a faint warning in the back of my mind telling me I shouldn’t be doing all this small talk. I’m leaving tomorrow and we’ll never see each other again. And yet I want to know more about him, apart from the fact he’s the best lover I’ve ever had.
That wouldn’t be hard…
I push the mocking thought aside. Not only do I intend to make up for the sad lack of variety in my past, I’m not settling for anything less than toe-curling orgasms in the future.
What would he say if I told him that?
“Yeah, that’s right.” He’s frowning, but not in a bad way. Actually, it makes him look adorable in a don’t-mess-with-me kind of way. “What’s so funny?”
Crap, I didn’t realize my intention to demand more than second rate sex in the future had shown on my face. “Nothing’s funny. I think it’s great you live with your sister. I always wanted an older brother to look out for me.”
Where did that come from? I know I’m going red again because seriously—all he wants from me is sex and I don’t know why my tongue keeps running away with me. It doesn’t usually. If I keep this up he’s going to think I expect some kind of commitment from him.
“Try telling Kat that.” He grins and takes my hand. “She hates the way Gage and I ‘look out for her.’”
Gage must be his brother. “It can’t be much fun if you interrogate all her boyfriends before she goes on a date.” Reminds me of how my dad used to be, before I started seeing Russell.
Zach leads me down the hallway and into his bedroom. “If by interrogate you mean threaten to rip off their balls if they so much as think about trying anything, then yeah. Okay.” He laughs and kicks the door shut.
Right. My dad was always more concerned that guys would take advantage of my name—in other words, the family fortune—but I guess the gist is the same.
The room is bigger than I expected, with an unmade double bed against the far wall and a couple of T-shirts dropped onto the floor. He plucks my overnight case from my hand and tosses it onto the end of the bed.
“The bathroom’s through there.”
I didn’t expect an en suite. “Thanks. I won’t be long.”
For some reason he seems to think my response amusing. “Take as long as you need.”
I wait until he leaves the room before plugging in my cell to charge and opening my suitcase. Although I don’t have any killer underwear—if he’s talking about crotchless panties or peek-a-boo-nipple bras—I do have some gorgeous lingerie. It’s been forever since I’ve been so motivated to look seductive for a guy. Although I only broke my engagement to Russell last night, our sexy times were lukewarm at best for the last eighteen months or so. I was an idiot to hang in there for so long, but that’s what happens when you’re used to sucking it up for the sake of the family.
I find what I’m searching for and then pick up my overnight case and go into the en suite. It’s cramped and messy, with guy stuff spread out over the sink, and it’s an eye-opener because Russell was meticulously tidy to the point of obsession.
The shower’s great, though—triple-size with glass doors and low-level tiled seating along one side. Whoever designed this bathroom sure must like their showers. I find a towel in the cupboard under the sink, turn on the faucets, and peel off my clothes.
I don’t think the dress is salvageable, but considering the reason why it’s ruined I’ve no complaints. I’m still smiling as I step under the water.
The glass is steamed up and I’m half rinsed off when I see a dark shadow leaning against the door to the bedroom. My heart slams against my ribs, even though I know it’s Zach, and I rub a circle clear on the glass.
He toasts me with a bottle of whiskey before taking a long swallow. He’s naked except for a pair of boxer briefs, and even through the steam I can see the tattoos on his thighs and pecs.
How long was he standing there watching me? I’m kind of shocked that I don’t care he was perving on me, but if I’d known I would’ve made some sexy moves, like in the movies, instead of just wanting to wash away the lingering stench of that pool table.
Before I can finish off and join him, he places the whiskey beside the sink and steps out of his briefs. My peephole instantly steams up, obscuring the view, but it doesn’t matter, since he opens the door and enters the shower.
“Miss me?” He slams a condom onto a tiled shelf, grabs my wrists, and pulls me toward him.