Page 34 of Wolf.e

“Go?” I ask, unmoving.

“You’re riding with me,” he says.

I look at the bike behind Wolfe then back up at him.

“No, I’m driving my car. After last night, I think I’d like to be able to get away if something else blows up.” I look up at him, now only a few inches from me, and try to figure out the best way to be honest with him. I nervously tap my foot when he says nothing because he just makes me so on edge.

“I’ve never even sat on a bike before, let alone ridden one and I don’t plan on starting today. It just isn’t me. I think we can both admit we’re not each other’s types. What happened last night was a one-time thing. I had too much to drink,” I say in one continuous sentence as bravely as I can.

Wolfe looks down at me, almost in amusement.

“Mm-hmm. You mean, when you begged me to let you come?”

I ignore him. Even his dirty words make me feel all sorts of want I can’t understand, so I just continue.

“You have your lifestyle, and I have mine and mine is not… like yours. I just don’t fit in with—”

Wolfe rolls his eyes and grunts, losing patience with me. “Enough,” he says in a no argument kind of tone. “After last night’s threat, you’re not going to Tybee alone. No one is.” He gives a practical excuse I wasn't expecting. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

His eyes drift there in response and I watch his throat work to swallow before his eyes meet mine again. He leans into me; his voice gets lower, and my mouth turns to sand.

“It’s not negotiable and I’m getting tired of you not listening to me.” He simply motions his head toward his bike.

“I…” I start to speak but I have no words. I can’t believe he gets away with speaking to women like this. I look at the road, then back at him, pushing myself to be bolder than I was yesterday. He isn’t going to hurt me in the middle of my quiet family orientated street.

“I’m not going to just let you command me, I don’t like it.”

“Then don’t fight me,” he says like it’s a no brainer, sensing my obvious hesitation to go with him. Wolfe puts his hands on each of my shoulders and leans down over my lips, momentarily stunning me into submission.

“Get on the fucking bike, Brinley.” This tone is lower and more commanding than his usual velvety one. As soon as he uses it, I know my fight is over because despite all of my internal protests, the way he orders me around, in that deep octave, sinks beneath my skin as if its only destination is my core. He doesn’t wait for me to answer him, he simply slides his hands down my arms and turns and walks away, like he has no doubt I’ll follow.

And, of course, I do.

One arm reaches out to me as I approach, taking my small bag from me, securing it with his on the wide bike. Wolfe turns, analyzing me. The only thing I can do is stand nervously and let him. I fold my hands in front of me.

He looks down and notices, then surprises me by reaching out a hand to separate them as his brows knot. Looking back up to my face, his hand reaches around to the back of my head and he pulls the claw clip I have out of my hair. His eyes stay on mine as all my hair tumbles down around my shoulders, but I don’t move, taking in the way he looks at me, almost like he’s angry as he stares down at me. Something as simple as pulling out my hair clip and I’m pooling in my panties for this man. Wolfe lifts a smaller black helmet up and sets it on my head, clipping it in place under my chin, tightening the strap with his big fingers until it’s a perfect fit. Then he adds the matching jacket off the back of his bag. I shrug it off as he tries to place it on my shoulders.

“How many women have you lent these to?” I ask, wrinkling my nose. I can tell I’m pushing him because the sound he makes in response is like a type of frustrated growl.

“Little brat,” Wolfe says as he pulls the jacket back down around me firmly, forcing me to put it on. In truth, it’s light and so soft and fits me perfectly as he zips it up. “This is a day of firsts for both of us,” he says, looking down at me all dressed in his leather.

“Oh?” I ask

“You’ve never been on a bike, which was obvious before you told me,” he says curtly. “And no woman has been on mine—ever.”

My mouth falls open as he climbs onto his bike and directs me to my place where I’ll sit behind him.

“Keep your feet here.” He points to the foot pegs. I struggle to straddle it but manage.

“Assume everything is hot,” he says over his shoulder as I settle on the bike, taking my place behind him. God, he smells so good. Leather, spice, and that hint of smoke from the clubhouse.

Fight it, Brinley runs through my mind but my body isn’t listening.

Traitor.

I make an awkward little dance of trying to place my hands on his shoulders then his side, but Wolfe isn’t having it.

“You hold me here,” he says, securely wrapping my arms around his waist, giving my hands a squeeze when he’s happy with where they rest against him. I’m helpless to fight him as he reaches down and grips both my thighs, pulling me forward until I’m snug against his back.

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