Page 10 of My Enemy Biker

She shoves hard at my chest.

I release her immediately. Step back. Training overrides everything else because no means no, always, no question.

We're both breathing hard. She's against the tree, chest heaving, lips swollen. I'm hard enough it's painful, straining against my jeans.

For three seconds neither of us moves.

Then her eyes drop to my crotch, land on the obvious evidence of how much I want her, and something in her expression shifts.

"Get out," she says.

"Anna—"

"No." She pushes off the tree and I can see her hands shaking. "You don't get to show up here unannounced and kiss me like that and then—" She stops. Her jaw works. "Just get out."

"I'm not sorry I kissed you," I say.

"I didn't ask you to be sorry. I asked you to leave."

"I'm coming back."

"Why?" The question comes out sharp. "Why would you do that?"

"Because you want me to."

Her breath catches. She can't deny it after how she kissed me back, how she moved against me, the sounds she made. We both know what this is now.

"Tuesday," she says, voice tight. "Seven o'clock. Bring the insurance documentation and a draft agreement."

I walk back to my bike.

The night air hits cold but does nothing to cool the heat under my skin. I can still taste her. Still feel the weight of her breast in my palm, the heat of her through those thin shorts.

I get on my bike. She's still standing where I left her, near the tree line. Not moving.

I sit there longer than I should before starting the engine and riding out.

The clubhouse is dark when I pass it. I don't stop, I keep going to my place.

Inside I stand in my kitchen replaying every second.

How she tasted. How she felt. The fury in her eyes when she told me to leave that was half anger and half want she wasn't ready to admit.

I should shower. Sleep. Be ready for actual work tomorrow.

Instead I'm hard and wanting her and furious at myself for both.

I handle it the way I handle everything I can't control. Strip down. Get in the shower. Take myself in hand and think about her underneath me, on top of me, any configuration that ends with me inside her while she's still arguing with me.

The release helps. Doesn't fix anything.

I dry off, and lie in bed staring at the ceiling.

Sleep won't come. Keep seeing her expression when I stepped back after she pushed me. Like she wasn't expecting me to stop. Like the Devils wouldn't have stopped and she was testing whether I'm different.

I stopped.

Whether that's enough to make her trust me is what I'm trying to figure out.