Page 32 of Single Mom for the Bikers

He lets out a heavy breath. “Yeah… sure. That makes sense. If you don’t mind.”

“I’ll trust you if you trust me.” I say with a nervous laugh. Being alone with him feels a little like we’re dating. Intimate. “Could I take a shower first, though? I’m still wearing my work uniform and I want to wash the day off. It’s been a rough one.”

“Go for it. Plenty of hot water. We don't live a life of fucking luxury here, but that’s one thing we’ve got. I'll dig up a spare towel.”

There's no tub, just a shower behind a glass door, but as someone who cleans for a living and has seen both ends of the spectrum, I’m pleasantly surprised that his bathroom is clean. I put my shampoo and conditioner on the little ledge next to his three-in-one and poke at the shower controls. By the time my clothes are off, the water’s hot and I step in, glad to let the water wash away the terror I’ve been carrying with me on my skin since I got the call about Mia.

I shower quickly and turn off the water, realizing I never waited for him to bring him a towel. Crap. “Havoc?”

He says something outside the door but I don’t catch it.

“What?”

The door opens, and for a long moment, we’re just staring at each other, me naked and wet in his shower, and him holding a towel with raw hunger in his eyes.

“Jesus fuck,” he whispers. “I'm trying to be good, I really fucking am, but you’re not making it easy.”

I snatch the towel out of his limp fingers, heat pooling in my core. My hands shake as I wrap the towel around my body. It covers the important bits, but only barely.

“I fooled around with Sledge when he came over the other day.” What is wrong with me? Why did I blurt that out like that?

His expression darkens. “Yeah? Are you—Are you interested in him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” I step out of the shower.

Havoc doesn’t move. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me since he came in. “He’s a good guy.”

“What about Phoenix?” I’m taunting him and I know it.

“He’s my brother, but?—”

“But what? Is he bad news?”

“What do you want from me?” The words sound like they’ve been dragged out of him, rough and raw. “You’ve been through so much shit, Shel. He’s not good enough for you, none of us are. You deserve a fucking accountant or something. Someone who’ll buy you a fucking house and take you to Niagara Falls or wherever.”

“I'm not sixteen anymore.” I let the towel slip just a little.

“No fucking shit.”

“Then stop treating me like it! I don’t know what I want, but I know I’ll never figure it out if I don’t get to try.”

“Fuck.” His eyes slide down, over the tops of my breasts and down my body like an actual touch over my skin.

“What do you want?”

“Fuck,” he hisses again, through clenched teeth, and then he's on me, capturing my throat with one hand and my hip with the other. He forces me to look up at him, at his lust-darkened drowning pool eyes, at his full parting lips.

And then he kisses me like he needs me to breathe.

19

SHELBY

The towel hitsthe floor and my back hits the shower wall. Callused hands explore me, learning every inch of me, while he kisses me to within an inch of my life. He bumps into the lever controlling the water and hot water flows over us, pasting his T-shirt to him like a second skin and turning his jeans dark.

“You’re getting soaked,” I gasp when he lets me up to breathe.

“I don't give a fuck.” He captures one of my breasts in his big hand and cups it, pinching my hard nipple between his fingertips. “Shit, you're so damn sexy. Do you realize how fucking hard it’s been to see you and not think about doing this?”

---