"Yeah, I got a long day tomorrow too. I'll follow you. I wanna make sure you get home safely."
She shook her head. "No, you don't have to do that."
"Don't bother arguing with me because I'm doing it. I don't give a shit what you say. There's no fuckin' way I'm not making sure you get in safely."
She stared wide-eyed. "Are you serious? How do you think I manage to live when you're not around? I've done perfectly fine without your guard service."
He leaned against his bike. "If you wanna keep arguing, I got all night, babe. It doesn't matter to me, but in the end, I'm still following your stubborn ass home."
Grumbling, she swung her leg over her Harley and started it up, and he followed suit. Soon he was behind her, their bikes rumbling through the neighborhood, and he was enjoying the way her cute ass hugged the seat. Fuck, I got plans for that ass. He also admired the way she handled her bike. In all the years he'd been riding, he'd never met a chick who could ride a bike that was worth anything. Watching her maneuver the chrome machine with such adeptness turned him way the hell on, and by the time he swung into her driveway, his jeans were damn tight.
She came over to him. "Thanks. I did have a nice time."
"I'm walking you to your front door." He got off his motorcycle.
"That really isn't necessary."
"It's very necessary," he breathed as he pulled her in his arms and kissed her hard, swallowing all her protests. She twisted in his arms, but he held her firmly to him, his kiss deepening. Soon she stopped pushing at him and began pulling him closer to her, tangling her arms around his corded neck.
"What the fuck are you doing to me, baby?" he rasped as he ran his hands down her back, resting them under her deliciously rounded, high ass. "Let's go inside. I know you want it as bad as I do."
Breathing heavily, she pushed back. "The agreement was just dinner, remember? Now we're kissing. I don't want it to go any further."
He pushed her hair away from her neck and trailed small kisses and nips on it. "Then you shouldn't be so damn sexy." He licked and bit the top of her shoulder, making her groan. "And you shouldn't wear perfume that fuckin' drives me wild." She tilted her head back, and he softly dragged his tongue across her throat, then kissed the pulsing hollow between her collarbones. The vibrations of her moans against his lips and tongue burned through him. He led her to her porch. "Open the door, babe."
She opened her eyes and blinked rapidly, then smiled. "Not tonight."
"You aren't feeling it?"
She put her key in the lock. "Of course I am, but I don't have time for a man right now. I told you that."
He nodded. "I got time to wait."
"I'm sure you've got other women to take the edge off," she said in a tight voice.
"I do, but right now I want you."
She sighed. "I know firsthand how bikers are, and I've learned to steer clear of them." She opened her door.
"I'm not your ex. Don't condemn all of us because you had a fuckin' asshole."
She smiled. "You're right." He started to come into the house, but she pushed him back. "The answer is still no. You can't always get everything you want."
He placed his hands on each side of her face and kissed her hard. "I always get what I want. Don't forget it, babe."
Laughing, she closed the door and switched off the porch light. Throttle stood on the dark porch for several minutes, waiting for his dick to calm down so he could ride more comfortably. He spun around and started walking to his bike when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move in the trees across the street. From habit, his senses heightened as his body went on the defensive. Not sure if it was a raccoon or possum, he walked to the driveway, his ears pricked up.
Bending down, he pretended to check something on his bike; his head was lowered, but his eyes glanced upward. Then he spotted a figure moving behind the cluster of trees. In a flash, Throttle sprinted, and the man took off. The watcher had a head start, but Throttle gained speed and could almost hear the fucker breathing when he tripped on a speedbump that he couldn't see in the darkness. The asshole avoided it, which told Throttle he knew the area well. Regaining his momentum, he pursued the man, who turned the corner. When Throttle reached the corner, he saw the man jump into an SUV, switch on the engine, and take off just as Throttle slammed his fist on the back window, trying to jump up on the bumper. But he couldn't. The vehicle disappeared into the night.
"Fuck!" His voice pierced the stillness. Bent over, he breathed heavily, cussing because he could only make out two letters in the dark; the fucker hadn't turned on his lights. The sonofabitch was staring at Kimber's house. A bad feeling rose inside him, and he wondered if the fucker was the one he'd read about who'd been breaking into women's houses and doing shit with them and their underwear. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach: What if he hadn't insisted on following Kimber home? If this fucker was the pervert, he'd just raped a woman not too far from the neighborhood the previous week.
Whether Kimber liked it or not, he was going to put in a security system first thing the following morning. There was no fucking way he was letting anyone hurt or get anywhere near his woman. And she was his woman, whether she liked it or not. He walked back to her house, plopped down on the lawn chair on her porch, and began his watch. He texted one of the prospects and told him to come relieve him at four in the morning. He'd make sure she was covered until the security system could be installed; he'd talk to Hawk about it in the morning.
Folding his arms across his chest, he stared out into the darkness.
Chapter Seventeen
The morning newspaper hit the mat, and Kimber opened the door to retrieve it. The paper and a large glass of orange juice were her morning ritual, and she cherished the pocket of time she had before her hectic day began. Beams of sunlight flooded over the landscape, lighting every blade of grass, and she breathed in the cool air. As the morning progressed, the coolness would melt into the dry heat of summer. To her left she heard a movement and whirled around, yelling out when she spotted a large man crammed into her lawn chair. The man, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather cut, pushed up to his feet. She dashed inside her house and latched the screen door.
"Get off my porch or I'm going to call the police."
The man stood in front of her, his large frame shading the sun from her eyes. "Throttle had me watch out for you. I'm a prospect for the Insurgents. See … ." He turned around and showed her his prospect patch on the back of his cut.
Her face tightened and she threw him a hard smile. "I don't need a fucking babysitter. You can tell Throttle that when you see him. I want you off my porch. Now."
The prospect shifted in place and cleared his throat. "I can't do that. Throttle's the only one who can tell me to leave. He said you know the biker ways, so you'd understand." He glanced away.
She squinted. "I see. I have to make a phone call." She went to the kitchen and called Throttle.
"It's good to hear your voice, babe. Fuckin' great way to start my day."
"What the hell were you thinking having a watchdog sit on my porch? Do you ever ask? I want him off my porch and far away from me. I mean it. And don't try and sweet talk me because it won't fucking work!"
"You finished? Last night, after you went inside, I saw someone checking out your house. He was behind the trees across the street. I ran after him and almost got him, but he got away, the sonofabitch. I wanted to make sure he didn't come back so I hung out on your porch ‘til about four in the morning, and then I had a prospect relieve me."
A flush crept across her cheeks as she grimaced. He was making sure she was safe, and she'd expected the worst from him so she flew off the handle. She'd thought he was exerting his cavemen attributes, but he was just looking out for her. "Sorry, I jumped to conclusions."
"You've got a knack for that."
"Thanks for watching out for me. I had a similar incident last week. It was a guy hiding behind the same trees across the street. He was watching me. It creeped me out big time."
"Damn! I'm sure it was the same bastard. Fuck, babe, this guy's up to bad shit. I'm installing a security system, and I don't want any fuckin' arguments over it. I already talked to Hawk about it and he's gonna get his guy. He's the best."
"I don't think the landlord will agree to it."
"I don't give a shit if a citizen agrees to it or not. It's going up. Discussion is fuckin' over."