Maci
Digger served me waffles with real maple syrup, a pile of bacon, and coffee just like him, whether he would admit to being sweet or not. He scowled a hell of a lot, but tenderness ruled his insides. The looks he gave me, the gentle touches while moving past me. A brush of the fingers while passing me the syrup. One soft smooch on the top of my head while handing me my coffee.
A woman could fall hard for such a man. Big as an ox, badass tatts over his chest and arms, lush lips—even if a nasty scar disfigured one side. Add in his observant attention, and he created the perfect package. In my eyes, anyway.
He studied me while we ate, his gaze seeming to penetrate my soul and taking a good, long look into every corner.
“I’m eating breakfast with the most beautiful woman in the world—and I don’t even know your last name,” he said, his voice low and rumbling.
“Irving.” I smiled, loving the softness in his dark eyes. “The hottest man on the planet cooked me waffles after the most mind-blowing evening of my life…” I arched an eyebrow. Surely, Digger wasn’t his real name.
His lips pursed for a second. “Raymond Hearst, but I rarely go by anything other than Digger. Haven’t for over fifteen years.”
I licked a drip of syrup off my thumb, and his gaze zeroed in on the flick of my tongue. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“What’s up with Capone?”
He tensed. “You tell me.”
I shrugged. “Nice guy, but honestly, he’s too pretty for me. Not really my type.”
“So, why’d you go out with him in the first place?”
“I needed a break from taking care of Mom, and he offered, so…” I shrugged again.
“So you aren’t upset he bailed on us last night?”
“Not at all.”
Digger’s gaze lit although he didn’t smile. “Glad to hear it.”
Smiling for both of us, I shoveled another forkful of waffles into my mouth and glanced around Digger’s kitchen. A simple one-story house, definitely a bachelor’s pad sorely lacking in personal items, but he kept it clean. No womanly touches anywhere … the thought warmed me through.
“So.” I returned my attention to him and pushed my plate away to wrap my hands around my coffee mug in front of me. “Now what?”
His gaze slid down over my neck, to the budding nipples beneath his t-shirt I’d grabbed to cover my nakedness. He lifted his gaze, a whole lot of lust in his eyes.
I pressed my thighs together.
“The ‘now what’ is up to you.”
“Me?”
He nodded and bit a piece of bacon in half, chewed slowly without taking his attention from my face, kicking my pulse up a notch.
“Meaning?” I pressed when he didn’t elaborate.
“I’m a Fallen Glider. Not the type of man most women would want in their life.”
“Are you asking me if I want you in my life?”
His brow furrowed for a split second as though his mind warred. “Yes.”
“Fuck me sideways,” I said with a breathless laugh.
“I’d have to tie you up first, but I think I can manage.”
Heat flooded through me, and I squeezed my thighs together, afraid of leaving a wet spot on his chair. That’s what I got for nixing the panties…
“Well?” he asked, his body still as though ready to pounce like a mountain lion.
“I’m sure my goodie-two-shoes sister wouldn’t approve, but I don’t give a shit.”
“Give it to me straight, Maci.”
“You feel it, don’t you?” I asked, motioning between us. “This … connection, thing … I can’t explain it.”
“I do.”
So serious. I bit the inside of my lip to keep in my smile while studying his broody face. My type to a T. He needed a woman like me, someone to coerce his lips into smiling. Someone to ease the somber shroud over him.
I didn’t want to burden him with my grief, though. Even though I drained the well in me during the night, I expected I’d do so a few times more before the sadness of losing Mom eased. My inside smile faded as my throat thickened.
My psychological needs to be appreciated, the desire to have purpose again now that she’d gone … hell, the want for love swayed me toward him. “I want to explore whatever this is,” I whispered. “See where it goes.” The corner of his lip twitched, and I leaned forward onto the table. “Is that a smile?”
His brow furrowed. “I don’t smile.”
“You did last night in bed, but I couldn’t see that well.”
“It’s not…” He turned away, his attention on the window over the sink. “It’s not a pretty sight,” he finally said.
“You’re hot as fuck, Raymond Hearst, and nothing on this damn planet will change that fact.”
He snorted. “You’re blind.”
“Think what you will,” I said with an air of brushing him off and picking up my coffee. “I know the truth.”
His lip twitched again, and I couldn’t keep from smiling into my cup.
We cleaned the dishes together, me washing and Digger drying. Hips bumping, hands brushing as we talked about our childhoods and the normal shit new friends/fuck buddies discuss. He kissed the top of my head countless times, and I couldn’t stop from smiling even if our conversation focused on surface things.
Twice, he walked to the front door and looked out the window.
“Something wrong?” I asked when he returned to my side the second time.
“Dark sedan is watching my house.”
My eyes widened, and I paused in rinsing a mug. “As in FBI?”
He shrugged.
“Are you in trouble?”
“Haven’t done anything to warrant their attention for years.”
“But you’ve got a nasty past,” I said, handing him the dripping mug.
He stared at me a long minute, his brow furrowed as though warring in his mind again while drying the cup. “I’ve broken the law a time or two.” He didn’t sound ashamed. Or scared. He put the mug away, hung up the damp towel, and leaned his ass against the counter right beside me.
I tilted my head back to keep eye contact as he loomed over me.
“Whoever it is,” he said, his gaze piercing me, “they’ve been watching the club, too. Have for a couple weeks.”
My eyes widened—over the fact he shared that information rather than the truth of it. “What’s going on?”
He continued to study my face without moving. Me, a near stranger who had no business knowing the Gliders’ business. I didn’t expect him to answer. “Not sure, but Jonny thinks we might have someone inside spilling secrets,” he finally said, holding my gaze as though testing me.
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
A suspicious man—feeling out the near-stranger he’d had in his bed all night. My curiosity swelled, especially since I knew I had nothing to fear or hide. “Whose job is it to take care of that kind of situation?”
He peered at me for a time, and I held his gaze, letting him see he could trust me. “Hawk’s the Sergeant at Arms, but I’m usually the one to deal with … problems.”
I nodded and returned to the dishes. While I should have been uneasy about hanging with such a man, the thought he bloodied his fists turned me the hell on. The type of man who would protect those he loved without hesitation. Without question. I glanced up at him through my lashes, thrilled he had shared such personal information.
He stared down at me as though reading my mind again. “That fact doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“Quite the opposite, actually.” I wrung out the wash rag and moved to wipe off the table. Smirking, I leaned forward, reaching across the table, exaggerating enough to lift his t-shirt to the middle of my ass cheeks.
His groan clenched my pussy and tightened my nipples.
“Damn, woman.” He grabbed my waist, pulled me upright, and buried his face in my neck where he’d left a big-ass hickey. When I’d caught sight of his mark in the mirror earlier, a thrill I didn’t understand had shot through me.
One of his hands crept up the front of his shirt, pulling me back into the moment. “No fucking panties.”
“Nope.” God, I sounded like a breathless whore. “Hardly ever wear the damn things.”
He groaned in my ear and reached between my legs. “Already wet for me, too,” he murmured, running his fingers through my folds. “You like that I’m a bad man.”
I pressed my ass against him, feeling his cock swell against my lower back. “It would seem so.”
“Tell me you aren’t too sore from last night.” His growled words sent a shiver through me, pebbling my skin.
“I’m not too sore.”
He slid two fingers deep into my pussy. “Tell me I can keep you tied to my bed all day.”
“Tie me up, Digger, and keep me there all day. Please.”
He swept me up into his arms, and I tossed the rag over his shoulder at the sink while he started toward the hallway.