Crap. He was really going to get hurt if I didn't get Austin away from him soon.
“Let him go,” I sighed, trying to focus on my anger, and not the heat building between my thighs.
It was strange to be looking at the bastard all dressed up. He stopped, holding Mike down, slowly running his eyes up and down my body.
“All right. Say the words, little boy, and you can run home to mommy.” The biker eased up just enough for Mike's beet red face to twist. Austin grabbed his short hair and jerked his face toward me. “To her. I don't do apologies. You take a big, deep breath and let the lady know how fucking sorry you are for shitting up her special night.”
Mike's bleary eyes opened and looked at me. My heart beat faster. All for the bastard, and nothing for him, except a slim hum of sympathy churning in my veins.
“I'm really sorry, Elle Jo. He's right. I shouldn't have acted like such a prick. You were just so beautiful. I expected too much. I –“
Austin's elbow slammed into Mike's spine so hard he went speechless. “I didn't say shit about making excuses. Ell-bell, are we done here, or do you want me to bust his nose?”
I shook my head furiously. “No, no, we're good. Just...let him go.”
Austin snorted. At last, he stepped back. Mike popped up in disbelief, walking as quickly as he could back to the driver's seat. The bastard joined me on the sidewalk as we watched him struggle with his seat belt, then do a crooked lap up the street.
Crickets. Literally. The night was suddenly deadly silent, but tense as all hell with his green eyes washing over me, teasing every inch of my skin.
A couple lightning bolts were stamped into his temples, making him look even more fearsome than before with his shaved head and wild stare. Muscles I didn't know I had went taut.
“Shame you had to waste such a hot dress on a little pissant like him. Fuck, baby, you look good.” He stepped up, wrapping one arm around me, smoothing his palm over my lower back.
Before I knew what was happening, the bastard pulled me in. He towered over me by several inches, six-feet-something of testosterone and violence. Raw masculinity at its worst, which also meant its finest.
He was everything that was supposed to be off limits for a girl who'd grown up with the MC in her life, but who was never supposed to be a part of it.
“Was he telling the truth?” Austin demanded, leaning down. I could practically feel him smiling inwardly when he felt me tense, pulling me a little closer, just enough to feel my nipples turning to rocks against his chest. “That shit the kid said about you being a prude? I heard everything with the window cracked.”
“Austin, please!” I couldn't believe it.
As if I really wanted to talk about how sexually starved and inexperienced I was with this killer who oozed sex?
“I should go inside. The boys'll be by any second, and they probably won't take kindly to seeing us out here like this.”
He snorted. “Answer the damned question, princess. I'm already on Gil's bad side. Thank fuck I'm heading down to join the crew in California soon. They know how to party. The brothers down there aren't such hard asses they keep their hot daughters under lock and key neither.”
My lungs turned to cement. I couldn't tell if this was more teasing, or if he really meant every word about how hot I looked.
He wasn't looking at me like I was a bratty sister anymore. Gone was the bastard who'd whistle or jeer at me from across the street, the man who'd pulled up on his bike last year when I was learning to drive and give me crap about it, while daddy swore at him from the passenger side.
The man looking at me now was too serious. Too hungry. Ripping through my clothes with just his eyes.
And I loved it. God help me.
“Austin...”
“Stop calling me that,” he growled, tightening his hold around my waist. “It's Asphalt tonight and every night for every day I'm still breathing.”
He reached up and tapped the new patch on his chest. So, he'd chosen a road name, just like they always did. I wondered how he'd gotten it, but didn't have the courage to ask just then.
I wrinkled my nose. “Whatever, Asphalt. Maybe if you stop calling me princess, I'll think about addressing you properly.”
“Come on, your highness,” he said with a smile. “Let me walk you to your doorstep like the little bitch in the car wouldn't.”
It was only a few stairs up to the porch, but we took the long way, and it became the longest walk of my life. My hand practically burned in his as he led me on, up our hilly driveway, and then across the wooden ramp we'd made for mom's wheelchair when she was in her last days.
We stopped just outside the door. Or, more accurately, I stopped, not wanting the night to end just yet.