Alexandra
I decide to stop and see Colton on my way home. I’ve checked the rearview mirror at least a hundred times before pulling up to the front of his shop. The lights are still on, but I don’t see him through the window.
It’s still a little light out, so I put my sunglasses on and a baseball hat that I keep in the car. Not wanting to risk being seen with the guy I’m supposed to be investigating for murder, I try to make myself unrecognizable.
Walking up to the front door, I see the sign that says Closed.
I peek inside, seeing some movement in the back. Colton looks like he’s picking up, getting ready to head out for the night. He must sense me staring at him through the door because he turns to me. The minute our eyes meet, my heart begins to race.
I give him a quick wave, and a sexy smirk crosses his face as he walks to where I’m standing.
“Hi, darlin’,” he drawls as he opens the door.
“Hi, Beefcake,” I answer as I look around the shop.
The shop is a definite extension of Colton. It’s big, clean, and sexy. That is, if a motorcycle repair shop can be sexy. Almost everything in it is either red, black, or chrome.
“Come on out back to my office. I want to update you on some things.”
I follow Colton to his office, and I can’t help but stare at his hard ass. And I know it’s hard because I spent a lot of time with my hands on it. The way his jeans form around his muscular thighs makes me want to jump him right here.
“Alexandra?”
My name brings me out of my little fantasy.
“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. What did you say?” I ask with a hint of embarrassment.
Colton laughs as if he caught me staring. Hell, maybe he did.
“I asked you if you wanted a cup of coffee.”
Glancing at my watch, I see it’s past six. “Thank you, but I can’t have coffee this late or I’ll be up all night.”
That admission earns me another smirk.
“If you want to stay up all night, sweetheart, I can keep you company.”
Jesus, his words conjure up memories of last night. Colton bending me over the couch, taking me on the kitchen counter, and finally in the shower. I can already feel the wetness between my legs.
I clear my throat, hoping I’m able to form words.
“I, um, think I need more sleep tonight than I had last night.”
Colton moves closer to me. Why does he have to be wearing such a tight T-shirt that shows off every single muscle he has?
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and I shiver involuntarily.
“Are you complaining about last night, Goldie?” he asks, with a fake look of hurt.
Complain? Hell no.
“I’d never complain about last night, or any night with you, Colton,” I say, leaning into him so my entire body is touching his. The minute I do, I can feel his hardness, and I do mean every inch of his hardness, against me.
“If we didn’t have so much to talk about, I’d take you right here and now.”
I know he can see me fight to catch my breath. This is what this man does to me. How could he not? Between his hard body covered in ink and his slight southern drawl…I’m done for.
He grins. “I’ll let you off the hook for now, darlin’. We’ve got shit to discuss.”
Colton and I sit in his office for about an hour, and he fills me in on Vinny and Franny. I have to admit, their story worries me a little.
My friend, Michael Schuller, was undercover inside a motorcycle club, and that shit was bad. I hope, for Franny’s sake, her old man never finds out she’s with Vinny.
He also told me about the death of his father and why he believes he was murdered. Even though Colton’s dad was a member of the Falcons, he always wanted to do things as legally as possible. That didn’t sit well with some of the other members. Colton thinks they may have had him killed to take the club in a new direction.
“I’m not sure all of this is connected, but I’ll help you any way I can,” I tell Colton, who is sitting facing me. Our knees are almost touching. He reaches out and puts his hand on mine.
“I’m telling you these things so if you hear anything, you can let me know. I’m in no way letting you initiate any type of investigation. I need to play this close to the vest.”
Hm. I think it’s time Colton and I have a little talk about what he says I can and can’t do.
“Colton, I know you’re trying to protect me from getting hurt by Miller or Anderson, but you need to let me do my job. I’m tougher than you think.”
He reaches over and presses his hand against my cheek. I may be tough when it comes to my job, but I’m certainly soft when he touches me. I need to fight my instinct to drop to my knees in front of him.
“Oh, Goldie, I know you’re tough. It’s one of the things I admire about you. But you have to know that I also protect what’s mine. And you are just that, Alexandra. You’re mine.”
His? He hasn’t even asked me what I want. I won’t lie, though. The thought of being his and Colton being mine makes me feel offended but more so, turned on. Damn him and his caveman attitude. I was brought up to be a strong, independent woman.
“Yours, huh? Why don’t you explain to me how that works, exactly? Do I have to ask you permission to, I don’t know, go to the bathroom or eat? Please tell me, Colton…will you pick out my clothes too?”
“Hey there, darlin’, I may be a caveman when it comes to protecting you, but I’m not a controlling asshole. Just humor me on this one thing. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you, OK?”
OK, it makes me a swoon a little. I’ve never really had a guy want to protect me the way Colton does. Sure, I’ve had boyfriends in the past, but they were usually the yuppie type. Colton is anything but that.
“So, if I’m yours, are you mine?” I blurt out, not sure I want to know the answer.
“I’m all yours, babe. That is, if you want me to be. Listen, sweetheart, there’s something between us, and I think we owe it to ourselves to see where it goes. There is a caveat, though.”
“What’s that?” I ask, trying to stifle a smile.
“We can’t let on to anyone. Not even your sister. Once we figure this out, I’ll be the first one to yell it from the rooftop that Alexandra Russell is mine.”
“And?” I ask, as I wrap my arms around his waist.
“And she gives the best blow jobs ever.”
I swat him in the chest, but laugh, nonetheless.
“I mean, you do, darlin’, but I know what you mean. I’ll tell everyone I’m yours too,” he says as he kisses the top of my head. He does that a lot, and I really do like it.