Megan - Day 15

Sweet relief filled my body when Aaron walked away. I blew out the breath I’d been holding, and air finally flooded my lungs. Aaron was one of the most intense men I’d come across in a long time.

For as scary as Shark was, his son was much more intimidating. Shark was tall and beefy, and although he had a huge scar on his face, he wasn’t bad-looking for a man more than twice my age of twenty-four.

Aaron, on the other hand, was muscular, and his strong medium frame belonged in a magazine. He was at least six-two or three and weighed over two hundred pounds. He was tall enough that he didn’t look bulky like The Hulk, but his muscles were defined and rippled under his clothes.

There was no way you could not notice him. He was one of those good-looking men who’d been drenched in pure sex appeal. Not classically handsome, but attractive in an edgy and tousled kind of way. It didn’t matter what he wore—you’d only ever be interested in the man beneath the clothes. His every movement seemed measured and confident, and he had the bad-boy biker attitude to go with it.

Unlike his father’s dark hair, Aaron’s dark-blond tresses reached his shoulders. His slightly darker brows sat above intense light blue eyes. His eyes were such a piercing shade of blue that he seemed he have the ability to hypnotize you if you stared at him too long. His kissable lips were a deep shade of pink and sat above a manly beard that was the same darker tint as his brows. The unkempt beard somehow worked in his favor and brought a spark of excitement to what otherwise might have been considered too pretty a face for a man.

Aaron’s body was pure sin. There was no other way to describe it. I was supposed to be unpacking or cleaning, but my twisted mind wanted to linger on how unbelievably sexy the man was.

Unlike his body, the clothes Aaron wore were ugly; well-worn dark jeans, a black biker’s vest covered with what appeared to be every club patch they’d named, and a holey black T-shirt underneath. On his feet were black combat-style boots that confirmed he had a big-ass foot—at least a size thirteen.

My warped mind thought, You know what they say about men with big feet? Why was I this fucking crazy? The places my mind traveled to sometimes—I swore crazy was being injected into my brain with a needle.

Despite his good looks and how pretty his blue eyes were, Aaron’s gaze was so menacing. It chilled me down to the bones. His presence unnerved me and made me feel anxious and unsure about every move I made and every word I spoke. He was one of the most intensely scary people I’d encountered in a while. So, why in the hell did it excite me?

In the short time that I’d been in his presence, I sensed that Aaron had blood on his hands. The intensity in his eyes said so. The glass-cutting edge to his voice said so as well.

Despite him being a redneck and a dangerous biker, Aaron had a beautiful home. When Shark drove off the main paved road and headed down a series of bumpy, tree-lined dirt roads, my heart nearly leaped from my chest, thinking he was taking me some place to kill my ass like out back.

When he’d driven up to and walked me up to the huge log cottage, I grew more surprised than scared. When Aaron opened the door, I dropped my gaze and bit into my lip to keep my damn mouth closed.

Like now, I stared around the spare bedroom he’d led me into that appeared to have been professionally decorated. The country theme wasn’t exactly my taste, but even I had to admit the space was beautiful and something to appreciate, especially after the room his father had given me to sleep in at the club. I may as well have spent two weeks sleeping inside the rotting carcass of an elephant.

The queen size bed in Aaron’s spare bedroom sat against the main wall facing outside. The wall was built to look like long logs. The large mahogany wood bed was adorned with a blue and brown flannel pattern comforter and four large fluffy pillows. It sat between two large windows that presented a view of the woods through its open flannel pattern curtains that matched the comforter. One nightstand and two large dressers made of beautiful teak stood at different heights and finished filling the room.

When I walked into the bathroom, I found the open-face wooden wardrobe stocked with fresh towels, some of which still had tags on them. There was soap in bar and liquid forms and even lotion. The amount of dust that had settled over the place indicated that Mr. Intensely Scary and Good Looking didn’t entertain often.

I believed I was going to have a more difficult time trying to keep from staring at Aaron than I was going to have cleaning his place.