Page 29 of Live Love Steal
He pinned me with his eyes.
That was so sexy. He glared at me, all violent and kind of wolfish. His eyes were clear blue, almost white, in the main part of the iris. The ring on the outside was almost black. The combination was both eerie and beautiful. Yup. Vikings weren’t my type at all. I liked them feral. “Hi.” I slid off the stool and wrapped around him because I’d completely forgotten whatever I was mad at him for, and suddenly remembered exactly how good he felt buried deep inside me. I rubbed my crotch against his pants and his dick, which was getting harder with each caress.
“You are trouble.”
I smiled. I liked that word. Most people thought I was boring. Or they thought I was intense. But trouble? Not since I was maybe six and tagging around with Dad everywhere I went. Even then, Dad didn’t mean it when he called me that. I knew trouble. That was my little sister, not me.
And I envied her for it.
I threaded my fingers through Sketch’s hair. “I’m sorry.”
“For?”
“I don’t know. But you’re mad at me.”
His eyes softened. That look was even more sexy than his scary one. “I’m not mad at you.”
I rubbed against him again. “Good.”
His fingers flexed against my ass. One good lift and he could slam me against the wall and we’d…
He let go. His gaze was on the wall.
I tried to see what was so important there, but failed. It was a hodgepodge of framed leather vests, photos, and patches that said a lot of funny things.
“Do you want to stay here while I get your car back?”
“No.”
His eyes bugged out a little. He glanced at Wolf and Tits, now almost making out. They looked good together, but somehow the double-whammy of two really good-looking people cooled my impression of them.
“You should.”
“I want to go home.” Why? My gaze drifted to the empty glass. Boss. Work. Right. “Fuck. My laptop.” Now I remembered why I was mad at Sketch. “I’m going with you.”
His face twisted. “You can’t.”
I glared at him. If Tits could face down a bear and live to tell about it, Sketch would be easy. I held up a finger. “One. My car, my laptop. Two. You lied to me. Three. If I stay here, I might kill somebody.”
Wolf picked that moment to stride up. Or should I say, limp? He had a prosthetic that I’d completely missed. Holy fuck. These people lived the kind of lives that took limbs? Maybe I should rethink picking a fight with Sketch?
“She’s a keeper. You’ve met my wife?” He had his arm draped over Tits’ shoulders.
“Yes. I’d love to know your hairdresser.”
She grinned. “He’s booked solid through next May.”
Damn it. All the good ones were taken.
“And just like that.” Wolf nudged Sketch. “I heard you two talking. It might not be a bad idea to take her with.”
There was an undertone I didn’t like, but I couldn’t argue because he was basically ordering Sketch to do what I wanted.
“Boss,” Sketch warned.
“No, it’ll be okay. Whoosh will be there. You just hang out in the car and…uh… make out or something.”
Over my dead body. “I only want my laptop back.” Whoops. “And my car.” Foolish me thought the twin of my car sitting outside was my car for a second there.
