to.”
I did because, well, it was Mario. I hadn’t expected a biker would want to play. Wreck’s large hands seemed awkward as he tried to press the buttons on the small controller. Admittedly, I feared for my controller.
My nerves twisted my insides as I shifted closer again and sat on the couch armrest. I bounced my leg up and down, so I didn’t reach out and grab the controller from Wreck’s hands.
Wreck.
What type of biker name was that? How did he get it? From wrecking people’s lives? From wrecking women’s bodies?
I nibbled on my bottom lip and pushed all thoughts of Wreck in the bedroom from my mind.
Yes, he was more than good-looking. He was throw-my-money-at-him and bow-before-the-stunning-god, but I refused to allow myself and my lust to get in the way. He was straight, well, I was fairly sure he was since I’d never seen a gay man who could scowl so much. So, he was beyond my orbit, and it would do me no good to keep thinking of him in more ways than eye candy. My emotions liked to glue themselves to unattainable men, and since the last one crushed me into the dirt, I wouldn’t let my emotions control me.
Elliot had been one of my friends at high school. We’d been close, and I’d been in love with him for a year, but as soon as I hinted toward liking guys, he’d screwed his face up, told me to fuck off, and that he never wanted to see me again.
Huh, maybe that was another reason why I didn’t like people knowing I was gay.
“Wanna play?” came a growly bedroom voice. Damn, I had to stop that. He didn’t have a bedroom voice.
I glanced at Wreck to see he held the controller out to me.
The prospect harrumphed, “It was my turn, or we could just do two-player like I suggested.”
Wreck ignored him and stared at me. His gaze penetrated me in ways I wished wasn’t the only thing penetrating me. Something only one other had done, and that was two years ago, and the experience had been horrible. Still, it was one I wanted to try again with the right person. I blushed and shook my head, “Ah, it’s, um, okay, he can have a go.”
Wreck’s brows dipped. He said nothing else and dropped the controller onto the prospect’s lap.
I had to get away. It would be best for my sake to stay far away from the man who’d captured my attention. Far away.
I got up and walked into the kitchen. Death greeted me with a smile as he handed me a beer. “Here, kid, suck this down.”
We heard a snort from the living room and then “Think he’d rather suck something else down.”
I stilled as my face burned more than it was. I focused on Zion; his face had darkened. He looked thunderous with his upper lip raised and aimed in the living room.
“Fuck,” Death muttered, his eyes over my head.
We all heard a cry of pain. I spun back to see Wreck had picked up the prospect, thrown him across the room, and was stalking after him. The men around me raced into the living room where all I could do was stand still and witness the power behind Wreck. All while trying not to pee myself.
“The fuck you say?” Wreck demanded low.
The prospect scuttled back on his hands. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It wasn’t supposed to come out. Fuck, fuck, sorry.” He glanced at me. “I’m sorry. Shit, I didn’t mean to say it.”
Before I could answer, Wreck had a grip on the prospect’s tee and pulled him to stand. He shook him. “You disrespectful motherfucker. In Saint’s home, you say that about his blood brother. His family.”
“Wreck,” Zion called.
Wreck shook the prospect again. “Who the fuck you think you are?”
“No one. I shouldn’t have said anything.” His eyes slid to me again. “Sorry, I…. Fuck, it just popped out since I thought he was good-lookin’. I was gonna ask him out.”
With that bomb dropped, the room fell silent. My heart beat frantically behind my ribs. He’d thought I was good-looking and was going to ask me out. Not that I would have said yes. He wasn’t my type, unlike the man holding him, but it was nice to know I wasn’t repulsive.
Heck, I was still in shock by his admission, even if it was fake or not, and it seemed I wasn’t the only one. They all stood around, staring