“Yeah, you know, to make it softer?” His gaze flicks back to the dark hair as he runs his hands over it.
“Hmm,” I reply and watch as he smooths it over the long scruff.
Knowing he uses products like that, I have to admit is pretty damn stimulating. Men like him, you think are naturally good-looking, but he works to take care of himself, and that is so attractive in a man.
I caught him in the garage the other morning lifting weights shirtless, and I swear the guy gave me hot flashes. He busted me gawking at him them, too, but I didn’t care. Any woman in their right mind would watch muscles like his flex with each lift.
A biker who wears beard oil, lifts weights, plays the drums, and can kiss like the devil himself. Why is it I’m protesting living with him again? Oh right, because he packed my shit up and moved us here without having a real choice in the matter. Doing things like that makes me stabby, no matter how fuckable he may appear.
And let’s not mention that he also holds me at night when the dreams haunt me full force. The asshole’s not making my life any easier being sweet like that.
“You coming by the club later?” He stands in front of me in the living room on his way out.
“I wasn’t planning on it, why?”
“Just checking.”
“I need to find a job.”
He shrugs. “Not really, but I’m done arguing with you over it.”
There’s no way in hell I’m letting him pay for my stuff. I won’t depend on him any more than he’s already caused me too.
“It’s not an argument if I want to work.”
“Whatever. You could come to the club.”
“And do what? Watch one of the whores rub all over you again? That’s not my idea of fun.”
“She didn’t rub on me; she asked if I wanted my cock sucked. I turned her down and then you punched her. Pretty sure the message was clear, and that was a week ago. You’re still thinkin’ about it?”
“Of course. Women don’t let that sort of thing drop.”
“You’re being a bitch right now, you know that?”
He did not just say that shit to my face. “You better leave before I take a knife to that pretty bike you have parked out front.”
He huffs, stuffing his wallet in his pocket.
“And Nightmare?”
“Yeah, B?”
“Next time you call me a bitch or say I’m acting like one?”
He remains stoic, glaring at me.
“You won’t be the only one known as Nightmare,” I finish and walk toward my bedroom. I’m getting dressed and finding a fucking job if it’s the last thing I do today.
Why would he want to know if I’m coming to the club anyhow? It doesn’t matter; Princess said she’d watch Mav while I go job hunting, so that’s what the plan for the day is.
So moody and for no damn reason,I think as I take my spot at church. Everyone else is already here; I’m running late thanks to Bethany being pissed over old shit.
“Everyone straight?” Viking peers at each of us, waiting for somebody to speak up.
Chaos grumbles, drawing our attention. “Spoke to Cain, he said the charter over there is having a shit time with another club again.”
“Iron Fists are back?”