by Tigris Eden
“My intentions?”
“Yeah, girl. Intentions.”
“Well, I guess to be a good friend.”
Chops tilts his head down at me, and I’m reminded that most of the men here are mountainous. Like ginormous, and they could all be superheroes.
“So, a good friend. Never seen one of them before dressed like you, looking like you do. Your eyes give you away, girl.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your eyes, girl. They don’t lie. You want him, and you want him bad. I’m just trying to figure out what your play is.”
My play?
“I don’t have a play,” I tell Chops.
At that, he grunts.
“All women have some sort of play. It’s in your handbook that’s handed down from mother to daughter via the womb.”
I place my hands on my hips and am about to tell Chops about himself when he barks out a surprised laugh.
“Oh, and you got some fire in you. Muy caliente.”
Muy caliente?
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing, because badass biker dude just said muy caliente.
“You have a pass for now, girl, but just so you know, I’m not judging, only making an observation. This is the first time Klaus has brought anyone here with him. Last time he came with a woman, it was his Amelia and their son. So you tread carefully, because although you can’t tell, I’m the bad guy out of the group, and I have no problem laying into you if you hurt my brother.”
I don’t know if Chops is trying to scare me, but it isn’t working. And I let him know.
“Well, Chops, I’d just like you to know that if you ever do decide to lay into me, I’m a uniformed officer of the law, which means not only will I exercise my right as said officer, I have no problem taking your ass out.”
Then, I turn and show him my service pistol.
His eyes go wide for a moment. The surly bastard bursts into more laughter. This time, loud and booming, making everyone within hearing range turn in our direction.
“Yeah, girl. You’ll fit in here quite well. Now, fix your man a plate, he’s hungry.”
When did Klaus become “my man?”
I do fix Klaus a plate, but that does not mean he’s mine. I sit in between his legs as we eat off the same plate and give our bones to Dali, but it doesn’t mean we’re a couple. We’re just two people hanging out as friends. Keep telling yourself that. It’s true. Tammy and her guy Hector come over, and the four of us decide it would be a good idea to go to the river the following weekend.
“What about the farm?” Klaus asks.
“Thomas takes care of the farm. I have no clue what I’m doing.”
“You have a farm?” Tammy asks.
“Yeah, eventually going to fill it with animals and things.”
“Well, hell, girl, why don’t we all come to your place next weekend and have a steak and potato grill night.”
Normally, it would rankle my nerves that someone would just invite themselves over. But sitting here and feeling comfortable like I do, I actually don’t have a problem with it, so I agree.
“Sure, I have to work a double shift Friday, but if you don’t mind grilling later in the evening, it’s doable.”
“Perfect.”
Tammy stands, dusting her shorts off, and hollers to the crowd.
“Guys, steak and potato grill at Jada’s farm next weekend.”
Everyone yells their acceptance.
Shit.
I thought it was just going to be the four of us.
“Hey,” Klaus’s voice rumbles in my ear, his breath warm against my cheek. “You don’t want to do this, just say so, and I’ll tell everyone to back off.”
Well, it was too late for that. Plus, I don’t want his friends to think I’m flighty. Or not sociable.
“No, it’s fine. This is what friends do, right? Hang out.”
“Yeah. I’m pulling a seventy-two-hour shift at the station. Be done Wednesday. You mind if I come over Thursday, we can shop for the steaks and potatoes.”
We were shopping together now?
How the hell had that happened?
“Um, sure.”
“Good.”
The stubble on his chin scratches my shoulder, and I feel like he’s doing it on purpose, but I don’t call him out on it.
The ride home takes forever. I’ve been reflective, a little moody, and basically just confused. Klaus is my dead best friend’s widowed husband, and it’s bothering me to the point that I’m not very good company.
“You were much more talkative at the park and on the way there than you are now.”
It’s because my mind is a mess.
“Why would Amelia tell you I was good for you?” I blurt.
“Because that’s just the way she was. Trust me, I had no intention of ever seeking you out. I was just in Sulphur to see her parents. Didn’t plan on you happening. But you did.”
“Don’t you see how messed up it would be if we did get together?”
He turns to look at me as he pulls the car into my drive and shuts off the engine.
“I think it’s only messed up if we let it be messed up. I’m not declaring my undying love for you and vice versa. But if we happen to spend time together, at least we both know she’d have been okay with it.”
Gah, this is so screwed up.
I try unbuckling my seatbelt and find that I’m stuck. I can’t get free. Klaus leans over at the same time I do, and we bump heads. Jerking back, I place my hand on my forehead because, damn, the brother has a serious noggin.
His hands are warm against the side of my hip as he messes with the belt buckle, and my chest constricts. I was okay at the park. Totally fine. But now inside the cab of his truck, I’m about to have a serious panic attack. I haven’t had a panic attack in years. Dali senses my frustration and starts to whine.
“It’s okay, girl. Just gotta get your momma unstuck. She’s managed to get a piece of her shirt caught in with the belt buckle.”
Of course, I have.
I’m Jada Alexander, and apparently, I’m accident-prone. Only around him.
Klaus pulls a knife from the cup holder in the dash.
“Sorry, but the shirt must die,” he informs me.
“Fine.”
He looks up at me with those amazing eyes of his, and I can’t help it. I melt. He doesn’t say anything further as he cuts my shirt away, setting me free of the belt buckle. Of course, once he does that, the buckle pops loose, and viola, torn shirt equals rescued Jada.
“Don’t move,” he says, and my breath halts. He’s so close, too close, but still, the right amount of close where I get a whiff of him. It’s all downhill for my libido from there. I’m moving closer, and he’s moving closer. This is all too much for me to handle. There are a million things running through my mind at this moment, and surprisingly, they aren’t comic book or movie related. Right when I think he’s about to kiss me, he sits back and opens his car door. “I’ll walk you to your door.”
You’ll walk me to my door?
Walk me.
To my door.
For fuck’s sake. I was so sure we were about to be fogging up the damn car. No, you’re not getting involved with him. My mind screams at me, but my body, well, the lust-crazed lunatic that she is, is telling me to get down on it. Yeah, I’m singing Kool in the Gang. Okay, my subconscious is. My mind is telling me no, but my body’s telling me yes. I don’t see nothing wrong... Stop! Stop! Stop! And that, that was R. Kelly. I’m a wreck.
Like an idiot, I wait for him to open the car door. As he does, he stands in front of me, blocking any chance I have of getting out of the vehicle.
“Can’t get down unless you move out of the way.”
“I said I’d help you.” His hands go to my waist, and he lifts me out of the truck. If it wasn’t confirmed then, it’s official now, Nicklaus is a Viking. A strong, strapping Viking of a man, and I want to swoon all over his hot body like melted butter.
“You can put me down now,” I say as he grips my waist.
“I could, but I’m not going to.”
“Why?” I croak. I sound like one of those needy girls. This is what one would call tension. Hot, sexy tension. We’re practically pressed against each other like peanut butter and jam. His hard body molded to my soft curves.
“I think,” he says softly, “that we are fooling ourselves if we really think that being friends is the right thing to do.”
“You do?” I ask, and yeah, it’s the voice, the one where you know the guy’s right, but you play dumb anyway.
“Yeah, I do. And I think you know that, too.”
“I do?”
His face is getting closer to mine; any closer and there will be lip service. Serious lip service.
“You want to know what else I think,” he rumbles.
“Uh hunn.” Lost, desperate, hot voice of need. That’s what that sound is.
“I think that if I were to kiss you right now, you’d let me.”
My brain short circuits at this point because he basically is kissing me. That last word “me” was said against my lips. I can’t help it, I want to taste his words, so I push forward against his lips, and say,” I think you might be right.”
That’s all it takes.
Nothing else is said because there isn’t anything else left to say. Before I can even drop the ‘t’ in “right,” his tongue is in my mouth. No excuses, no permission, it’s all invasion. His tongue goes in for the kill, and his mouth devours mine. Conquers me like the Viking he is. Hot, soft, wet, warm, those words don’t do this man’s mouth any damn justice at all. And the kiss? Well, it’s explosive. I’m trapped in between the car and this mountain of a man, and he has the good sense to keep his hand pressed against my back so that the car doesn’t become a part of my skin. I give just as good as he gives, if not better.
We’re talking intergalactic planetary, planetary, intergalactic. And you just quoted a song to compare a kiss, Jada, I hiss inside my head as I try and fail to get a grip on the situation. Klaus kisses like I’m the only thing in his world, that if they were to drop nukes right now, he wouldn’t stop, because this is where he’d want to be when he died. With me. Holding me, kissing me, consuming me like he has every right, because he owns me.
Oh, I so want to be owned.
I’d gladly turn in my single rewards loyalty card for a Nicklaus loyalty card. His swagger tank’s on full, and let’s face it, any man that can work you up so high and bring you crashing down in a puddle of lust deserves your loyalty. Don’t get it twisted, some men can fake a good kiss, but we know. We know if it’s the real deal because we can feel it in our bones. Down to the pit of our souls, there is this switch that gets hit when the guy—the guy—gets it right. You don’t get many chances to find someone you can vibe with on this level. It’s rare.
You get maybe, one, two shots tops at it. I’ve never had a shot like this before, so I don’t know what else to do but see it for what it really is. Right?
Right.
I’m thinking all this, and mind you, we haven’t even come up for air. Not yet. And I don’t care if my lungs start to burn, I don’t want to breathe again. Not ever. But Klaus pulls away and he’s tugging me toward the house, where Dali waits patiently by the door. When had she gotten out of the car?
“Keys, Jada.”
Oh, right. We need to get inside.
I fumble with my bag, and Klaus’s hand wraps gently around mine as I grab hold of the keys that somehow get lost in my itty-bitty purse. His hand goes to my stomach, and he gently pushes me back as he opens my door. This doesn’t happen, like ever. Poe is in the middle of the hall, his green eyes are glowing, and instead of hissing at the male guest, he stands, stretches and walks towards my room, as if he’s actually leading the procession.
My animals have lost their damn minds.
So have I.
Because we’re headed straight for my room. A place he hasn’t seen yet, and I’m a bit scared, ‘cause Thor and his band of men have leading roles in my bedroom décor. Strong hands tug at my hips and pull me against his hard body, and I’m lost in the kiss again. This time, the kiss goes on and on. We’re speaking an entirely new language and it’s all hands, mouths, teeth and tongue. Even our sounds have their own meanings, and we moan each one in harmony. Mine is more of a contralto, where as his are deeper, throatier than mine. My legs hit the back of the bed, and I instantly grab hold of Klaus’s waist so I don’t fall.
“I got you,” Klaus rumbles against my lips, and he’s right. He does have me. Right where he wants me. My hands slide up his sides, and his shirt rises, giving me a glimpse of a very bold, very sexy tattoo that starts below the waistband of his pants and travels up beneath his right armpit. I can’t really see what it is, but I can tell its badass. “We have to slow down,” he warns.
Slow down?
What? Why?
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Klaus, but I’m way past the point of slow.”
His throaty chuckle causes my stomach to flutter.
“We just got back in touch, I don’t want to ruin this. We owe it to ourselves to see if there’s really something between us.”
Uh. Duh.
Of course, there’s something between us. He has a large, hard cock between my legs, and I’m hot, wet, and for the love of all that is holy, ready.
“I don’t want anything between us. Just skin on skin,” I tease.
This causes Klaus to untangle himself from me and step back. He’s eyeing me with a funny look on his face.
My lips are swollen from his kisses, and I know my hair is a hot ass mess. What more can a guy ask for?
“Jada. Gorgeous. I’m more than willing to take us all the way there, but you’re not ready.”
“Not ready?”
I’m about to show him my underwear to prove he’s wrong when it hits me.
Mother. Fuck.
I’m wearing granny panties, with a capital G!
How in the hell did I forget I was wearing the big-girl drawers?
How!
“Not yet.”
My shoulders deflate. Not because of his words, even though, in a way, he’s right. Yesterday, I was all about keeping us friendly, but now, I’m mortified. What if he’d tried to go down on me while I was wearing my bloomers? I’m not going to think about that. I can’t. It’s too embarrassing. And where the hell is Dali? Why isn’t she interrupting our tryst?
“You’re right.”
He looks surprised.
“I am.”
“Of course, you’re right. We need to get to know each other. Find out what makes the other tick. See if we’re good at even being friends before we can be lovers. I’m down with that plan.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time.
“I don’t want to be your friend, Jada,” he grumps.
“What do you want to be, Klaus?”
He rakes his hands through his beautiful hair. Did I mention his hair is overly long? Long enough for a decent man-bun. All that beautiful hair, I can’t wait to get my fingers in it. And his facial scruff. Lordy, lordy, lordy. I don’t think anyone should be denied the pleasure of a good roughing up with facial hair like that.
“To be honest, I don’t really know. I like you, and yes, I’d love nothing more than to strip you out of your outfit, feast on your body, and have you screaming my name until your throat gets raw, but I don’t want to ruin this either.”
“So let’s not ruin it. Let’s take it slow.”
He steps forward and takes my hands in his.
“Slow is good.”
“Slow is good,” I repeat.
“I’ll call you when I get home.”
“Okay,” I huff.
Klaus grins. He knows I’m not happy with the decision we both sort of made, and he’s trying to make light of it. I’m about to tell him about himself when he pulls me back in for another belly clincher of a kiss.
“
I’ll call you tonight, gorgeous.”
“Tonight,” I whisper, placing my fingers over my lips, which are still tingling.
Chapter 6
Klaus calls exactly forty-five minutes later. Yes, I timed it. I answer on the first ring. I’m not one to play the ‘let it ring some more’ game. It’s not who I am. Okay, maybe I was that person a long time ago, but not anymore.
“Hey,” I say into the phone.
“Hey.” His voice caresses my ear, and I feel it between my thighs. “You getting ready for bed?” he asks me.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I have some things I need to finish up at the house. I didn’t realize we were going to be gone all day.”
“Sorry I kept you from your other things.”
He had nothing to be sorry for.
“Oh, no, it’s not like that, Klaus. Honest.”
“I like your phone voice,” he says, changing the subject.
“Oh, really?” I say playfully.
“Yes. Really. It’s smooth, throaty. I can feel it. It’s almost as if you’re touching me.” His voice drops to a harsh whisper. “Everywhere.”
Oh, boy. So can I.
“Feeling’s mutual.”
“Glad to hear it. What do you need to finish up?”
“Well, I need to give Poe his vitamins. Dali gets a bath on Sundays, and then I need to finish my report.”
I was going to get in a lot of trouble if I didn’t have my report in regarding what I found at the fire. Dali hadn’t found anything truly worth reporting, but I still needed to be detailed. Turns out that the fire was an accident. Although something still felt off about it, I didn’t find anything to substantial, but I still needed to turn in my report.
“From the fire a couple of days ago?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you’re smart, you’ll get it sorted.”
“Thanks,” I say, and I mean it. The last guy I attempted to have any sort of relationship with thought me working for the ATF was a joke. He didn’t outright say it, but he’d insinuated it plenty of times. I dropped his ass like a bad habit on Sunday.
Dali places her head in my lap, and that’s my signal. It’s bath time.
