Page 26 of Dozer

Blood crusted in his eyebrows and around his ears. Dark blue and purple shadowed his eyes. He licked a deep split on his lip.

“You’re a mess. Come on,” I said and held my hand out to him. “You can take a shower.”

He stood, towering over me with his wide shoulders, thick thighs, and rugged strength. His gaze set fire to my flesh as he followed the deep V of my T-shirt. Without a bra, my nipples tightened and prodded against the soft cotton. Warmth and butterflies swirled in my belly.

“I didn’t come here for a fuck,” he softly said as his calloused fingers curled around mine. “Maybe a fuck but mostly because I need to be near you.”

If I hadn’t wanted to sleep with him before, those words sent a fiery sizzle straight into my clit. Those warm butterflies fluttered until they ignited into a red hot want to slip into Dozer’s dark and tortured eyes.

He took a step, stumbled, and crushed me against the wall. His lips were close to mine. Breath mingled, his with the intoxicating scent of whiskey, weed, and cigarettes.

Dio mio.My god, his sweet talk was drunk talk.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, burrowed into my neck, and sniffed my skin. “You’re good, Pip. So good. You even smile when you sleep.”

I wasn’t good. I trembled with his touch. “How would you know? We’ve never slept together.”

“I’m always watching you.”

He wasn’t kissing me, but his lips lingered on my skin. His warm breath touched me more intimately than his mouth or hands ever could.

We stumbled down the hall. “Why did you fight tonight?”

He stepped back and tunneled his hand into my hair. He rubbed the strands between his fingers. His eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched.

“Because I’m not good. A man can dwell in the night, cloaked in the shadows, and still be jealous of the stars. A woman is a spark of light,” he said and touched my lips. “But getting too close risks watching her become the sun.”

My throat thickened with desire. He was speaking about us, his words of poetry near my ear. “It’s lonely in the dark.”

His hand fell away. “It would be for you.”

Embers of heat burned in his eyes. I wanted his hands on me, wanted him to push me against the wall, and take what we both desperately craved. Whatever rage and desire blurred in his mind, I ached for it.

“You should go back to bed,” he said.

“You need someone to help you.”

“Nah, I’ll just grab a shower and crash on your couch.” He leaned against the wall and bent to untie his boot. He slid, losing his balance and caught his fall with a hand to the vanity.

“You never should have driven over here.” I braced him against the wall. “I know Hellers don’t care about blurring the legal lines,” I pressed closer to him. “but if you ever want me on the back of your bike again, promise me you won’t drink and drive.”

“Promise.”

I nodded, dropped to my knees, tugged the knot, and loosened the laces on his boots.

“I didn’t drive.” His hands twisted in my hair, curling into fists. My scalp tingled as he tightened his hold, forcing me higher, to be level with his groin. “And you shouldn’t be on your knees.”

Tipping my head back, I stared into his face. “You need help getting undressed.”

“I’m hard.”

I cocked a brow. “I know.”

Loose jeans couldn’t conceal the firm bulge of his erection. He was also drunk, high, and bloody. I grabbed the heel of his boot and tapped his thigh with my palm. “But you need help. Step out.”

Dozer stepped out of his boots. I peeled his socks down and off. Touching his feet shouldn’t have been the most intimate moment I’d ever shared with a man. Our quiet breaths echoed in my small bathroom.

Remaining on my knees, I wanted him to imagine I wasn’t tugging his belt to help him shower after a brutal fight, but that I was sliding the leather free from the loops of his jeans because I wanted him naked and sliding over the rim of my lips.

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