both forgot about everything else that had happened already that day.
A throaty whimper escaped me as he deepened the kiss. My leg rose, moving to hook around his lower back, opening me up to him.
Huck wasted no time slamming me back against the kitchen cabinet, rocking his hips against me, his hardness grinding against my cleft, dragging another moan out of me.
It wasn't until one of my arms left his back to brace behind me, my hand landing in the sink with the still-running water, that I realized what an epic mistake this could become.
It was bad enough to sleep with bad news.
It was a complete other to sleep with the bad news next door.
God, what was wrong with me?
"No," I objected against his lips, hands moving between, pushing against his chest.
"No?" he asked, pulling back a few inches, looking down at me with heavy-lidded eyes, a cocky smirk pulling at his lips, like he was sure I was going to qualify the comment.
No, we can't do it in the kitchen.
No, we don't have protection.
Not just no.
Because it was obvious my body was saying—screaming—yes.
But just this once, I was trying to listen to my head instead.
"Yeah," I said, nodding, pushing harder against his rock-solid chest. "No," I clarified, curling away to turn off the tap, then moving several feet away, wrapping my arms across my chest because I didn't exactly trust myself not to reach out to him.
What was one more mistake, in the grand scheme of things?
Well, in this case, being connected to an outlaw biker with enemies who might see me as a target, for one.
"You're a fucking trip, Harmon," he decided, shaking his head, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.
"Call it a blinding moment of sanity," I said, shrugging. "Fucking my arms-dealing biker neighbor is pretty high up on the list of shit I don't need complicating my life."
"Don't know what kind of man you think I am, babe, but I'm not the sort to complicate your life."
"Sex is complicated."
"Sex is a fun way to spend a few hours. That's it."
"Regardless," I said, surprised how strong my voice came out when just about every cell in my body was begging me to cross the room and throw myself at him, beg him to deliver those few, blissful hours. "It's a bad idea. Thanks for saving me from almost drowning. And for the pain medicine. And the story I will be telling my grandchildren someday so they know I was a badass who survived a drive-by, then did battlefield surgery on a biker. My future generations thank you for making my life a little less lame for a night."
"Alright," Huck said, shaking his head like he didn't get it. "You sure you're good? With the whole seizure thing?"
"Yep. Used to that. I just need to clear my head and then get some rest. No big deal."
"Alright. If you say so. You got pen and paper?" he asked, not waiting for me to answer, just going over toward my fridge where I kept my grocery list, ripping off the page under it, and using the attached pen to scribble on the page. "Ayanna wanted me to give you her number," he clarified. "Mine is on there too. In case you need it. You know, for a cup of sugar. Or a couple good orgasms," he said, giving me a cocky smile as he pinned it to the fridge under an "As You Wish" magnet from The Princess Bride. "I gotta get going."
"Right. Drive-by guys to find. Biker things to do."
"Yeah," he agreed, moving to the door, turning back to give me that sexy smile one more time. "Something like that. Lock up, babe," he added.
And then he was gone.
And I was alone in my kitchen with desire ricocheting off every nerve ending, a lingering headache, and far too many thoughts racing through my head, tumbling all together, to make any single one out.
But I moved across the kitchen to lock the door, then did a tour of the rest of my house, paranoia making me check the windows, look inside closets and behind shower curtains.
There was nothing, no one to worry about. No one could have possibly known I had been over at the biker clubhouse, that I was in any way connected to them, save for living next door.
Making my way back into the kitchen, I brewed a pot of coffee while I looked at the note on my fridge, telling myself I was going