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Chapter 3

In seconds, I was after him, but the length of his stride had already taken him out of the cabin and across the yard. The distance separating us forced me to break into a run as he moved toward the powerful bike sitting in my driveway. How I’d missed his arrival was puzzling, but as my legs ate up the distance between us, it became of little importance as my eyes devoured the man before me, the low throbbing between my legs continuing. At six-four, copper-skinned, black-haired, amber-eyed, as well damn near oozing sex appeal, he was lick worthy—a damn freaking all-day lollipop. His shoulders were broad, his waist and hips, sinfully delectable, and his strong rounded ass—well fuck me—if it wasn’t squeezable. However, all that aside, it didn’t allay the hurt he’d intentionally inflicted.

By the time I made it to his side, Ethan had reached his bike and had tossed a leg over it. With thigh muscles straining beneath the soft, worn fabric of his jeans, he settled on the seat, but still refused to look at me as he lowered his helmet on his head. With the realization he had no intention of explaining any of these past weeks, nor of addressing the humongous elephant now between us, I reached out and laid my hand on his arm. “Dammit, Ethan, can’t we discuss this like two—”

Jerking away from my touch, he interrupted my words. “Leave it, alone, Nicole!”

The words whipped the surrounding air with their bite, and my whole body stilled—except my fingers—they twitched, wanting to reach out and thump him in the chest. Excuse me? Did he just say, leave it alone? How the hell could I leave it alone? I was the one he’d attacked with his hurtful words and actions these last weeks; I was the one suffering mentally because of them. Moreover, I was the one who had no fucking clue what had crawled up his ass and caused him to act the way he had in the first place. He was the one with the answers, and he was not sharing!

Beside myself with anger, my fingers continued to shake with barely controlled restraint not to just let loose and knock the jerk on his ass.

After a few seconds, he whispered a curse before hissing, “What happened in there...” His words trailed off, as pointing toward the cabin, he continued, "...was a fucking humongous size case of insanity.” Afterward, leg muscles flexing, he kicked the bike into throbbing life.

Quickly, I grabbed the back of his shirt and climbed on behind him, my breasts rubbing against his back, and shooting waves of awareness throughout me again with the action. A shudder ripped through me and a tiny moan escaped my lips, and shifting, I tried to adjust myself to where the contact wasn’t so arousing. Everything about me was over-sensitized and to compound the problem, with each wiggle I made, he shifted too, his movements coordinated with my every move. After a few minutes of us playing out Freak Nasty’s Da Dip, he let out a low, “Fuck. Me,” following it with, “get your ass off my bike!”

With a shake of my head as I wasn’t going anywhere, at least not until I had some freaking answers—the hurt, and angry part of me not allowing it—I planted my butt more firmly on the seat.

A growl erupted from his mouth—yeah, you heard me—a growl…as if he thought he was some kind of freaking Grizzly bear, then he shifted as reaching around me, he grabbed the helmet strapped on the rear of the bike and shoved it down on my head. Then, after roughly fastening the strap, he turned and faced forward again.

Tentatively, I settled my hands on either side of his waist, and he let out a hiss of a breath, snapping, “Dammit Nicole, put your arms around me, or get the fuck off.” When it became obvious I wasn’t going to do either, he shrugged and with a smooth flick of a booted foot on the gears, and a twist of his wrist on the throttle, the bike was soon roaring down the drive.

As grass and trees flew past us at a sickening speed, I began to wish to God I hadn’t been so stubborn about climbing on the back of Ethan’s bike. Arms shooting forward and wrapping around him—as he’d ordered to begin with—my hands sought purchase wherever they could. His whole body jerked at their contact and the bike gave a dangerous swerve before, with rapid-fire reflexes, he reached down and grabbed my hands, then jerking them off the bulge in the crotch of his jeans, he settled them around his waist. Laying my head against his back, and closing my eyes, I prayed to all the Saints and Mary we made it to where we were going in one piece.

Minutes later we were pulling into a well-lit parking lot of a small, but popular all-night diner, the powerful engine of the bike having eaten up the miles like Pac-Man gobbled gangbangers and with the bike barely having come to a rolling stop, I was hauling my ass off of it. Legs threatening to collapse beneath me, I ripped the helmet off my head and threw it at him, and as it bounced off his chest then landed with a clatter on the asphalt, I lost my composure altogether and screamed, “You sorry jackass, what the hell were you trying to do? Kill us?”

Without a word, he leaned over, then scooped the helmet off the ground. Afterward, as placing it in his lap, he removed his own and began running his fingers through the wind-tangled ends of his hair, ignoring me. As I stared at him seething, time passed on the slow-ass heels of a dwarf pony, before finally ending his primping, he climbed from the bike and laid the helmets on the seat, then peering in my direction and tone sarcastic, he murmured, “I told you to get off…so stop your damn whining.” Afterward, he turned and walked toward the restaurant.

Sputtering and mad as an imp kicked out of hell, I began jogging after him, however, by the time I’d made it to the restaurant, Ethan had already gone through the door, leaving it in a slow closing glide behind him. Fingers grasping the handle, I began pulling at the door, but soon found momentum propelling me forward, and my face smashing against it. Shock cruised through my system, and surprise held me immobile; I was stuck to the glass like a wad of bubblegum as I gazed in wide-eyed wonder at the man on its other side, who, with deliberate and obvious nastiness, had pulled the door shut behind him, just as I’d grabbed its handle. Seconds passed as Ethan and I eyed one another, then dropping his gaze from mine, he turned, making his way further into the restaurant.

Shoving away from the glass, my lips tight in pissed-off attitude, and grinding my teeth until I’d damn near broke them, I took several deep breaths before jerking the door back open, I stomped my way into the restaurant. Blind as a fucking bat after entering the darkness of the restaurant, I barreled forward and plowed straight into Ethan, where soldered to him from chest to pelvis, my naughty goddess began panting like a dog on a hot summer day, and pushing me away, he barked, “Watch what the fuck you’re doing, will ya?”

“Drop dead, asshole,” I snapped back, not only pissed off with his attitude and his earlier action, but mad at myself as well, for I’d lit like a goddamn roman candle when my body had touched his. With a low angry grunt, I glanced up and felt my cheeks flush ten shades of red at seeing the teenage girl coming in our direction, knowing she’d been close enough to hear my colorful words.

Her face wearing something close to the same shade as mine, Brandi Toliver stuttered out, “H-hi, guys.” I noted the infatuated look on her face as she peered at Ethan, and I realized she had a huge crush on him, as tossing a glance around the room, she continued to stammer, “S-seating’s a little l-limited, but there’s still a couple of booths open, if y'all don’t wanna wait on a t-table.”

“A booth will work fine, sweetheart,” Ethan assured her, the endearment slipping past his lips and causing the look in her eyes to turn dreamy.

From my position behind Ethan, I shook my head at his stupidity. “Well, for fuck’s sake, Ethan, you’re an idiot,” I grouched under my breath.

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