Hammer (Heartlands Motorcycle Club #9) - Dani Wyatt Page 0,8

carry around bottles of $250 tequila?” The front of the bottle is engraved Grand Patron Platinum.

“I like to be prepared.”

I nod, trying to seem uninterested. “Just like a good Boy Scout should.”

“Something like that,” he smolders.

Yes, smolders. I’ve never heard a man smolder when he speaks.

This is bad and getting worse.

“Listen—” I start, but he puts a finger to my lips.

“One shot. Then I’ll listen.”

He pulls his finger away and I open my mouth but I’m not sure what it is I want to say. My eyes drift to where he is now holding the bottle in one hand and pulling on the glass ball stopper.

It makes a ‘pop’ sound and he pushes the now open bottle my way.

I swallow hard, knowing this has trouble written all over it, but against my better judgment, I slip my hand around the cool glass and watch him watching me. It’s one drink, what’s the harm?

“Straight from the bottle?” I ask, and he nods, sucking his lips tight to his teeth, those green eyes looking like they are about to catch fire.

“Straight from the bottle,” he repeats, lowering his chin as he watches me.

I blow out a long breath and nod at the liquid bad decision, before bringing it to my lips, upturning the bottle and taking a draw.

I throw my head back a little, letting the burning tequila slip over my tongue and I swallow, hoping I keep it down. It’s sweet and harsh at the same time and my skin immediately lights up. Heat envelops me and I set down the bottle, shaking my head on a grimace.

I hear Hammer chuckle, but my eyes are watering and I can’t speak.

When I recover enough for a breath, I cough hard, then shove the bottle across the steel table to him and choke out, “Your turn.”

He doesn’t answer, just takes the bottle and turns it up. His draw is longer than mine and I’m sure he’s more adept at drinking than I am.

I’m mesmerized at the way his throat moves as he swallows. His Adam’s apple is prominent, working under the scruff of his unshaved neck. The muscle in his square jaw hardens. He finishes his shot and when he licks his lips, my nipples tingle and I hate the betrayal.

I have no idea how much time passes as I stare. He only took one shot but it’s like time has slowed to a crawl as I devour his every movement and sound.

By the time he puts the bottle back down on the table, I know I’m in deep cow shit.

He slides it back my way. “One more.”

I should shake my head. I’m willing my muscles to do what’s right, willing my vocal cords to say no.

They refuse to comply.

Instead, my hand is back on the bottle, the cool glass once again on my lips as the burn of the liquid slides down my throat for the second time.

I’m spinning. Not just from the alcohol, but from the vibration growing between us. Hammer is right next to me. I feel the warmth of his skin and the sex scent that he should bottle and sell because he wound make a trillion dollars.

As I withdraw the bottle from my lips, he leans down, his hand brushes the hair back from my ear and the last thing I hear before all my defenses retreat is, “Good girl.”

Plop.

Chapter 5

Hammer

“Listen.” She starts again, trying to be so serious, but I see the way her nipples are punching through the fabric of her shirt. I see the strap of a white bra, a bit of lace showing through the thin white fabric and I wonder if her nipples are big and light pink. Or maybe darker, pulling into quarter-sized circles, and the thoughts have my hard on at full length, making me salivate like Pavlov’s fucking dogs.

“I’m listening,” I growl, keeping my face by her ear, then lowering my lips so they are a fraction of an inch from the base of her neck, letting out a long breath, and I feel her body tense next to me.

“I like to be straight up.” Her voice is quivering, but she doesn’t make any attempt to move away from me so I bring a hand to the back of her neck, slipping her hair through my fingers, and there’s a little sound she makes in the back of her throat before she continues. “Whatever this is, and I get it. There’s something here. But, it can’t be more than physical.”

“Is