Chapter 8

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"Oh, my God. Do you really think I'm going to steal from you still?" Heidi raised her hand and rubbed her head. "You know what? This was a mistake."

She'd got up early, put the cat outside, washed the bedding, her clothes, eaten a bowl of oatmeal—done everything Glen said she could. While he'd gone out to take care of club business, she'd taken advantage of his offer to stay and refresh. Instead, he'd returned and demanded answers.

"It's not a mistake for you to let me help you." Glen sat on the arm of the couch. "You're free to stay here. I want you to stay here. I also want to help you, and I can't do that without more information."

"Fine." She raised her hands and let them fall, slapping against her sides. "My full name is Heidi Ann Lundin. I'm twenty-seven years old. Five feet, four inches. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. One hundred and ten pounds. The last address on my identification card says 5197 Lombard Apartment 56 because I haven't changed my address yet."

"Let me see it." Glen refused to drop the subject.

"My I.D.?" She rolled her eyes. "Fine."

She marched up the stairs, dug her card out of her backpack, and returned to the living room. "Here."

Glen read the card, turned it over, and tapped the edge of the plastic with his finger. She crossed her arms. Why had he suddenly decided to question everything about her?

He removed his cell phone, looked at her card, and tapped on the screen. Her chest squeezed in panic.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Getting a little more detail about you."

"Why?"

He raised his head and his gaze softened. "Because you're staying in my house and you're not freely giving me the answers I need to feel comfortable with our arrangement."

"Our...what?" She reached out and grabbed the back of the chair. "If you want to take back your offer for me to stay here this week, I can leave. I didn't ask you to treat me like a criminal."

"Are you a criminal?"

Her throat closed. "Yeah, Glen. I am. Thief at night, bicycle saleswoman during the day. Didn't you hear? It's the cool thing to do. It's St. John's version of keeping Portland weird. Meanwhile, I have millions in the bank waiting for me to retire when I turn thirty years old and move to...I don't know, Switzerland."

Glen's upper lip twitched. Not in amusement. A genuine tic. He whistled on an exhale, and his mouth relaxed.

Caught up in staring at him, she failed to notice he'd stepped in front of her. "You're a smartass," he mumbled.

She glared. "But, I'm not a thief."

He looked a little too long at her and then held his hands up as if deflecting the heat from her glare. She couldn't help being drawn to his tongue when he moistened his lips. Lightheaded from holding her breath, she found herself unwilling to retreat. His pupils enlarged, softening his intense gaze.

"I want to help you, but you're not letting me," he said.

"Besides a roof over my head or even using your deck in the backyard, I don't need anything."

She lied.

She needed him.

No, she wanted him more than she needed him.

There was a difference that she could explain to him if she had the words. But, she had no idea how to tell him she was attracted to him and how it was impossible to ever act on what she wanted in her life. The basic necessities came first.

"Blue?" He placed his hands on her hips. "Let me take care of you."

She inhaled a shaky breath and released a soundless sigh. "I don't know if I can, or if I want you to. I've always taken care of myself."

Glen lifted one of his hands and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer until their lips were only inches apart. "Then, I'll teach you how to take a break from caring for yourself."

Her body trembled. She couldn't take her gaze off his lips. "How will you do that?"

He was going to be the death of her. What was it about him that kept her from running away? She'd had one relationship in her life, and look how that turned out. There was no way she could count on her opinion of the situation. People, no matter how well she knew them, could hide their real self. When they finally showed you who they were, it was too late. Then, she paid for being too trusting.

"Can I show you?" he whispered.

Oh, God. What was he talking about? How come the conversation no longer felt like Glen was talking about her being homeless?

She panted, feeling his breath on her face. "Do I have a choice?"

"Always."

She mouthed his word, letting the promise settle over her into acceptance. His upper lip twitched, moving the whiskers above. She reached up and ran her finger over the wayward muscle, smoothing the tension away. That little sign that he was invested, he was worried, he was frustrated, he was centered on her, gave her confidence. At least temporarily. It wasn't like she planned to stay here because of him.

"Okay," she said.

His head moved left and right, ever so slightly, and she panicked, thinking he was going to say no when his lips skimmed hers. The lightest of touches as if giving her a chance to pull away. Her stomach quivered, and she placed her hands on his waist, feeling his leather belt under her fingers, and held on.

Glen inhaled, settling his mouth on her lower lip. A short suction kiss and he pulled back, then he came forward to her and repeated. The soft, warm tip of his tongue touched her lip, and her mouth came open as she fought to keep breathing, afraid she was drowning.

"It'll be okay," he murmured against her lips.

She licked where his tongue touched her, and her stomach warmed. Tentatively, she rocked to her tiptoes and kissed him back the same way he'd kissed her. Left to right. Skim. Suck. Taste.

She stopped, not willing to go any further because that's all he'd done.

Her nipples peaked and her fingers curled around his belt. It wasn't enough.

He'd teased her. She'd teased herself.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. If she didn't know any better, she'd believe he was trying to teach her patience.

He ran his thumb over her lips, drawing them apart. "You learn quickly."

Glen stepped away and took her hand, leading her to the couch. He sat and pulled her onto his lap. She straddled his thighs. He picked up her hands and placed them on his chest, then cupped her hips and moved her closer until their faces were at the same level.

She'd never had the comfort of a couch or the ease of sitting on someone's lap and touching them. At least after she'd moved in with Evan. Any type of affection ended up being about sex and made her feel like it came from his need to control the relationship, desperation, stupidity, and loneliness. In that order. On the streets, people had sex all the time. It made it difficult for her to find places to stay because she refused to risk her life to have a safe place to sleep. She'd convinced herself that she was fine on her own, and that company, comfort, and pleasure were for other people.

"Hey." He lifted her chin with his thumb. "Where did you go?"

Her heart raced. "I'm here."

Being with Glen was like nothing she'd experienced. The only thing she knew about dating, relationships, and love came from an abusive relationship.

It wasn't real.

But, even if there were a chance that what Glen was doing with her was half real, it'd be the best thing she'd ever experienced.

Glen leaned forward and kissed Heidi's neck. She sighed, and her head fell back, giving him access, belying the tightness that grew in her stomach. He was good with his mouth. Really good.

Gentler than she'd imagined.

His whiskers, a stark disparity from his lips and tongue, caressed her. She closed her eyes. The dual sensations a pleasure she wanted to go on and on.

Glen's hands moved up her waist to her ribs, and he pulled back. She opened her eyes and found him studying her. Taken out of the arousal he was creating inside of her, she let him lift her hands and put them under his vest against his chest.

Heat came off him and warmed her palms. His fingers pressed against her back and she leaned forward, dipping her head to his neck. When he said he'd teach her, he'd literally meant he'd show her everything, step by step.

She inhaled deeply, closer than she'd ever been to him. He smelled of the soap she'd used in the shower and leather, and a hint of something scrumptious. She pressed her cheek against the skin at the side of his neck and brushed her lips up to the ridge of his jaw, letting his whiskers tickle her lips.

Glen leaned his head to the side. She kissed closer to the crook of his neck where the skin was bare. She adjusted her mouth, covering more area, and lightly sucked. The idea of leaving a mark on him appealed to her, and she sucked harder.

Glen whistled, slipping his hands under her armpits and pulling her mouth off him. Her lips tingled, and she panted.

They both stared at each other. The moment surreal that she had the comfort, time, and safety to touch him.

Glen cupped the back of her neck, tugging her forward and pressed his lips against hers. He quickly retreated and looked into her eyes. Whatever he saw in her gaze, brought him back and he dropped a gentle kiss on her upper lip, then her lower one, followed by capturing her mouth.

His teeth closed on her lower lip, and a shock of heat swarmed inside of her. She gasped, her lips parting, and his tongue entered her mouth, playing with hers before withdrawing. It was hypnotic, how incredibly sexual his kiss made her feel. With a moan of encouragement, she pressed closer, letting her tongue seek his.

Whatever she'd done changed the whole mood of the kiss. Instead of exploring and teasing, Glen's mouth became more urgent and wider. The hold he had on her tightened, and she found herself surrounded by him although she was the one sitting on his lap. His hands held her possessively—one on the back of her neck, the other on her hip.

Glen growled, low and desperate. She trembled with the power of self-awareness. She'd done that to him. High from the way she was feeling, she slid her hands deeper under his vest rubbing his chest through his shirt. Awed by his size and the strength in his body, she got swept up in the myriad of emotions and lust swirling around her.

Following his lead, she kissed when he kissed, licked when he licked, and when he nipped at her bottom lip, she had to hold back from biting him, and ultimately drew a shiver from him.

Unable to process how they'd gone from dancing around each other all morning to her straddling Glen on his couch, she let go of every reason why she should get her backpack and run far away.

Glen groaned into her mouth and pulled out of the kiss. "Damn."

She leaned back in, wanting to kiss and touch him more, and he shifted to his hip and brought out his cell phone. "I need to get this, Blue."

She crawled off of his lap onto the couch and inhaled a big breath. Her whole body shook. It was impossible to push herself to her feet and distance herself from him.

Glen stood, typing on the screen of his phone. He looked back at her, typed some more, and shoved his cell into his pocket.

"I need to go over to Wayne's house." He ran his hand down his face, straightening his whiskers.

"Oh, okay." She scooted to the edge of the couch and remained seated.

"I want you to go with me." He adjusted his crotch.

She'd made him hard. "I can stay here and —"

"No, you need to go with me. It won't take long." He gazed down at her feet. "Go ahead and get your shoes on. I'll meet you outside at the Harley. Leave your backpack here. I'll bring you back to the house after I'm done."

He left the house out the front door. She rubbed her arms, chilled from the push back to reality. There was nowhere she wanted to go, except back into Glen's arms. Everything outside was unsafe.

She ran up the stairs to the bedroom where she'd left her shoes. She couldn't fight the pull to go with Glen and have more time with him. Soon enough, she'd need to leave and let Glen go back to his life.