Joker (Hell's Ankhor #8) - Aiden Bates Page 0,33

the club.”

I could tell there was something else holding him back. I tried to ignore the edge of frustration in my chest. I wished he would just talk to me. “Yeah? They keeping you busy over there?” I asked.

“Sure, I do plenty of stuff for them,” Joker said. “Takes a lot of work to keep our businesses running. I mostly pick up shifts at Ballast or Ankhor Works.”

“You know engines, too?” I asked.

“Course I do,” Joker said incredulously. “We’re a motorcycle club.”

I laughed. “Oh, sorry, I don’t know every detail of what club membership entails yet.”

“Surprising,” Joker agreed with a grin. There was a little more ease in his posture now as he leaned back against the couch. “Since you hang around so much. And you sure look like you could be a member.”

“Yeah?” I asked. I set my plate down on the coffee table as well and scooted a little closer on the couch, so our thighs were almost touching as we angled toward each other. “You think I fit the part?”

Joker’s gaze traveled appraisingly over me, staring at my eyes and then moving slowly, hungrily, down over my body. There was a sudden darkness in his gaze, a sudden want, and being under the weight of that look sent a thrill through me. I really fucking wanted him. So bad it made me stupid.

“Yeah, you fit the part,” Joker said, and his voice was a little deeper than usual, and that sexy, slight country accent came out, too. “Even with that goddamned piercing.”

“What?” I asked teasingly. At his mention of the piercing, I ran my hand over my brow, fingertips catching on the silver bar. “You don’t like it?”

“I really like it,” Joker admitted, his eyes tracking the motion of my hand across my brow. “To the point where it’s kind of a problem.”

“Got it when I was eighteen. Impulsive, but I’m attached to it now.” I nodded to my forearms. “That’s when I started getting my tattoos, too.”

“Yeah, you’d fit right in in the club,” Joker said in a voice so low it was nearly a growl. “Bet you’d look good on a bike.”

“I can think of some other ways I might look good,” I shot back in a very Joker style. I pressed my knee to his thigh, then took the risk of running my fingers gently up the firm muscle of his thigh.

Joker exhaled hard, and his lips parted at the contact. This was exactly what I told myself I wasn’t going to do. I wasn’t going to make the first move. I’d made my intentions clear as fuck. And if he wanted more, he was going to have to show me he wanted it, too. But I couldn’t resist touching him like this, gently running my fingers up and down his thigh. Because part of me worried I wouldn’t have a chance to do it again.

Then, to my shock, Joker surged forward. He fisted a hand in the front of my shirt, jerking me forward, and kissed me so hard our teeth barely avoided clacking together. Joker kissed me fiercely, almost hungrily, and I returned it with equal passion. God, it felt good to finally do this. It was like we’d been dancing around this mutual attraction for as long as we’d known each other, and finally, something had snapped in Joker and finally, finally pushed him to act. And it was so fucking good. Even better than I’d imagined.

He kept his hand snarled in the fabric of my shirt and the other groped at me like a teenager, over my thighs, my chest, then settling at my nape to guide the kiss. His hands were rough from years of whittling, and strong, and I really fucking wanted them on my skin.

“Come on,” I muttered into the kiss, then wrestled my hands under the hem of his shirt. His skin was so soft over all that hard muscle, and I couldn’t stop touching, skating my hands over his back and his abs. Joker made that low growly sound again, and my cock throbbed hard in my jeans, which were suddenly much too tight. “Off, off.”

Joker broke the kiss enough to shoot me that sexy, tilted grin. Then he stripped his shirt off in one smooth motion and tossed it carelessly aside. And—fuck. He was stunning. Tan skin, dark peaked nipples, lean muscled pecs and abs and an enticing trail of dark hair that led to the waistband of his jeans.

Fuck. I wanted to get