The Risk (Hell's Disciples MC Book 6) by Jaci J

Author:Jaci J [J, Jaci]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-03-28T18:30:00+00:00

Standing in my doorway, I watch Bish walk up the drive, a flat box in his hand. I haven’t seen him in a few days, so after he left me with a hangover and a washer and dryer, I’ve been dying to see him again. Biting my lip, I hold my smile back as I take him in. I watch the way he moves, steady and sure, and feel heat pool between my thighs just looking at him.

Wearing his usual dark jeans, old faded T-shirt, beat up boots and smooth leather cut, he is lethal personified—rugged and rough, scruffy and unkempt.

As if he can feel me staring, he looks up at me and does something I haven’t seen him do. He gives me the widest, most genuine smile. My insides turn to liquid and my heart stops a full beat.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, stopping in front of me.

“Hey.”

“Brought pizza.” I finally notice what the brown box in his hand actually is.

“I see that,” I giggle.

“Can I come in?” he asks, brow raised.

“Of course.” Stepping aside, Bish walks in and around me. I watch his back as he sets the pizza down and turns to me.

“You hungry?” For you, pops into my mind, but I nod instead.

As if he’s feeling the same way, he looks me up and down, eyes intense and hungry. “Me too.”

Brushing past him, I walk into my small kitchen and he follows. Grabbing a couple bottles of beer and some napkins, I stop when I notice a giant set of numbers scrawled across the box in black permanent marker. Looking from the box to Bish, my eyes widen when I realize it’s a phone number.

“You got a cell phone?”

“Just for you.”

“Just for me? You went out and bought a phone just so I can call you?”

“Pretty much. The boys wanted me to get one too, but I wasn’t that fucking concerned about it until you needed to call me.”

My insides melt. “Awe.”

Bish holds up a hand to stop me. “Don’t get weird on me.”

But I do get really weird on him. Spinning around, holding out my pretend dress with one hand, pizza box in other, I flutter my eyes and sigh loudly, like a Disney princess. “He likes me,” I sing. “He really, really likes me.”

“Okay, Remi, you made your point,” he grumbles, shaking his head from side to side, amused.

I smile at him. “You like me.”

“You’re fuckin’ weird, sweetheart.” He’s smiling again. I like it. I like it even more when he laughs at me.

“I know,” I agree. I am weird, but it’s cool. Walking the pizza, beer, and napkins to the front room, I plop down on the couch and wave Bish over. “Pizza and a movie?”

“Anything you want, sweetheart.”

~~~

We’re lying on the couch. Bish is pressed against my back with his arm slung over my hip, his hand resting flat against my stomach. I shiver every time his fingers brush against my skin.

I can feel his hard length pressed against my ass and I know he wants me as bad as I want him.

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