I said nothing and continued to feign sleep.
Hop pressed closer. “Lady, you sleep loose and you’re wound up tight. I know you aren’t sleeping.”
I kept my eyes closed but asked, “Who’s Benito?”
His fingers around my breast curled tighter before they relaxed and his hand moved up to my chest. His body moved away from mine and I found myself on my back because his hand on my chest pressed me there.
Then his hand moved out of his tee as he rolled over me. I opened my eyes just as his fingers slid into the side of my hair and his thumb stroked light at my temple.
He looked good in the morning, his stubble around his mustache thick and dark, his eyes still holding a hint of sleep.
Not to mention, the thumb at my temple thing felt nice.
Gah!
“First,” he began softly, “good morning.”
“Good morning,” I replied, then asked again, “Who’s Benito?”
He grinned before his head dipped closer and his lips brushed mine.
That felt nice, too.
Then again, it always did.
He lifted his head and caught my eyes as he muttered, “She starts right up, not even waitin’ for coffee.”
“Who’s Benito?” I repeated.
He studied me.
Then he said, “You want it, baby, you got it.”
His hand moved to cup my jaw and I waited but not long.
“Depending on the brother, old ladies can be in the know or not. If they are, they don’t talk. Not to other brothers, not to each other. As for you, what you heard was unfortunate. I opened the door to get rid of who was behind it and I did it buck na**d so I couldn’t move into the hall. That shit won’t happen again. Beyond what you heard, you aren’t gonna know.”
There were not many sentences there but, regardless, there was a good deal to go over.
“I’m not your old lady,” I declared.
He grinned and asked, “You aren’t?”
“No,” I stated firmly.
“In my tee, in my bed, after a night where my condom stash got lighter by three, lady. Beg to differ,” he replied.
“So that’s what it takes? A tee and sex?” I queried, my brows going up.
“No,” he answered, his voice going deeper, his thumb stroking sweet along my jaw. “Now, honey, since it’s time you got to know me, you’re gonna get to know me.”
Oh dear.
Before I could protest, he kept going.
“Got rules for the women I take to my bed. No sleep. Don’t ever wake up to a woman. It sends the wrong message. Really no f**kin’ tee. Bitches claim tees. I don’t need to be clothing half of Denver.”
“Is that how many,” I hesitated before saying with emphasis, “bitches you’ve had? Half of Denver?”
“Do you care?” he fired back instantly.
“No,” I lied.
“Liar.” He called me on it.
I shut my mouth.
He grinned but opened his. “You, babe, can have my tee.”
I rolled my eyes.
When I rolled them back he wasn’t grinning. He was smiling.
“You, it’s about bedroom eyes. Fuckin’ great hair. Long legs. A tight, sweet pu**y that gets so f**kin’ wet, swear to Christ, every time I have it, don’t know whether to bury my face or my dick in it. Your perfume on my sheets. The way you look at me when I tuck you in bed, like I gave you diamonds, something precious, something you wanna keep safe, something you want forever. Woman like you could get diamonds just crookin’ her finger, so a woman like you shouldn’t find a man tuckin’ you in bed precious. But you do. It’s also about you tellin’ me you won’t take it there with me but, I kiss you, you ignite. Some men like a game. Others like a challenge.” His smile got wider. “You found a man who likes a challenge.”
“Great,” I muttered and his grin didn’t waver.
He also wasn’t done.
“It’s also about you tellin’ me you miss me and, lady,” he said swiftly when I opened my mouth to speak, “don’t deny it. You said it. You meant it. You’ll learn you can’t bullshit me, but, I’ll just say in case it sinks in early, you can’t bullshit me. All that might not be enough for another brother, but babe,” he gave a light shrug, “it’s enough for me.”
“That’s insane,” I told him.
“Lanie, I’m a member of a motorcycle club. Used to people out there in the other world thinkin’ I got a screw loose. Also don’t give a shit they think that way.”
He gave it to me, my opening, so I jumped on it. “So you don’t give a shit I think that way?”
He grinned again. “Honestly? No. Not now. You aren’t thinkin’ straight so you think that way with your head as messed up as it is?” He shook his head. “I don’t give a shit you think that way.”
“My head isn’t messed up,” I announced and his grin got bigger and, that close, in the morning, sexier.
Gah!
“Babe.”
That was all he said.
Time to move on.
“It’s my understanding that old ladies hold a slightly elevated role in your world. Not that high, since your structure includes the brotherhood up top, bikes under that, living and riding free under that and, possibly, old ladies, if one was lucky, under that,” I stated. “Women in your world have to work to that position, something I haven’t done nor do I intend to do. You and I are f**k buddies. Or we were.”
His brows went up. “Were?”
“This ends this morning,” I declared to which, immediately, he threw his handsome, stubble-jawed head back and burst out laughing so hard it shook me and the bed.
“Do you find something amusing?” I asked irately through his laughter.
Also through his laughter he focused on me and spoke. “Yeah, honey. The clue is me laughing.”
I glared and decided I was done with our talk. Therefore I lifted my hands to his shoulders and shoved.
This had no effect except that he dropped his head, buried his face in my neck and kept laughing there.
I glared at the ceiling, trying not to process how nice that felt.
His hilarity muted to chuckling so I decided it was time to speak again.
“Get off me, Hopper. I’m getting a taxi to my car and going home.”
He lifted his head, smiled down at me, then shook that head. “No you aren’t. We’re gonna talk, get things straight, then we’re gonna f**k, then I’m taking you out for breakfast.”