I restored it a few years ago, and it looks better than it ever did, even brand new. My dad wasn’t someone who respected anything, not even his car, which is pretty fucking sad. Because this car is sweet as fuck.
I watch as Lainey struggles slightly to fasten her seat belt, which causes my lips to twitch into a smirk. She’s a cute drunk, or maybe I’m just that enamored by her. Once she finally clicks it into place, her head swings around, and her eyes meet mine as she lets out a heavy exhale.
“I didn’t know seat belts could be so exhausting,” she murmurs.
I snort at her words. “Won’t be as hard tomorrow,” I point out.
She shrugs a shoulder, then shifts her attention toward the windshield. I take that as a silent encouragement to head home. I do just that. Shifting my car intoDrive, I pull out of the parking lot and head straight toward home.
“Happy birthday, Lainey,” I say quietly. “Did you get everything you wanted?”
I don’t know why I even ask that. Maybe I don’t like the silence inside the car, or maybe I’m trying to keep from pulling over and trying to fuck her. Whatever the case, I ask that question, and then I get an answer, but it’s not what I expect.
Lainey hums. “Everything except you.”
I almost wreck my car by jerking the wheel, but manage to straighten it, then clear my throat before I speak. “Lainey,” I warn.
She shifts closer to my side, moving as far as she can with the restraint of her seat belt. I can smell her. Then I feel her breath against my cheek.
I grip the steering wheel so tightly I can hear it creak beneath my hands. There is an off-ramp half a mile away, and I wonder if I could pull off and give her exactly what she wants, but that would be wrong.
Not only is she trashed, but she’s very much off-limits.
I need to control myself.
Even if control is the last thing I want to have right now. It’s a need, and it’s the hardest thing I’ve done in a long time. Maybe even in years.
“Viking,” she calls out, and she sounds completely sober when she does. Which makes my cock twitch beneath my jeans.
“Lainey,” I grunt.
Her fingers curl around my wrist, then she clears her throat before she speaks, holding on to me, which, honest to fuck, she really should not be touching me right now. I clench my teeth. I need her to release me. I’m not sure how much longer I can feel her soft, cool touch on me before I lose my control.
“I want you.”
Fuck.
LAINEY
I don’t know what I’m doing. But it’s exactly what I’ve always wanted to do. I don’t drink, at least not like this, but I couldn’t stay sober with Viking watching me. His eyes were on me all night long.
I’m not used to being around him or any of the Vicious Reapers for long periods of time. I stayed away for good reason, and then I had to go and become friends with all of the old ladies, and now here I am, in the front seat of his badass car, alone with him. And a little drunk.
Okay, more than a little drunk.
But it’s my birthday, and he was watching me. Staring at me. I couldn’t stop drinking. I wanted him to keep looking at me. I wanted his eyes on me, and all I could think to do was lose my inhibitions and continue drinking.
If I didn’t, I probably would have plastered myself to a wall and pinched my eyes closed and hoped for the evening to just end. So many bikers, so many strippers, the whole thing made me feel uncomfortable.
I know it shouldn’t have. Piggy wouldn’t let anything happen to me, and I’ve known all those guys since I was a kid. It’s really more of a me issue. Open and free sex makes me uncomfortable, which is why I’ve always steered clear of the clubhouse. And then there’s Viking.
He’s another reason I’ve steered clear. He’s huge, like an oak tree. Massive with stacked-on muscles. God. I want to lick him, and I don’t think I’ve ever imagined licking a single person on earth, but this man… I want to lick every single inch of him and trace his tattoos with my tongue.
He’s so absolutely beautiful, this man. This massive man.
“You can’t have me, Lainey,” he grinds out as he pulls the car into my driveway.
The embarrassment that slices through me is almost too much to bear. I open the car door and throw my legs to the side. Planting my high heels on the concrete, I feel a hand curl around my bicep.