Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition by Elizabeth Knox (top 5 ebook reader txt) 📕

She leaves me sitting on the stool with my flat beer in hand, and death glares at my back, clearly, they are all backing Eden. But why? Did she tell them that we fucked, and that I bolted before she woke up? Somehow, I don’t see that happening.

I have the gut feeling to piss her off, to see the fire in her come out because fuck me, she is sexy as hell when all fired up.

“Now, why would I leave? I have a place to park myself, a cold beer in my hand, and a very beautiful woman to watch as she works.” My words stop her in her tracks, and I smirk when she turns to look at me, her hands find her hips as she glares at me.

“Now is not the time to push my buttons, Jonny. I swear to fuck, I will cut your balls off and pickle them for all to see, right behind the bar.”

“So you will touch my balls again,” I snark back, and her fury builds.

I can’t keep the smile off my face as she charges for me, but the two-foot bar between us stops her from getting her hands on me. She rests her hands on the bar, throwing daggers at me through her eyes and if I was a weaker man I would cower from the intensity in her gaze, but fuck me, this look on her makes my dick hard.

“Not on your life, Jonny Hutchins. You and your overused balls will not be coming near me ever again. You have done your damage.” Her eyes go wide when she says the last part, and my back goes straight.

“Damage? What the hell are you talking about, woman?”

She slams her mouth shut and her eyes bounce around the other men sitting at the bar and this pisses me off. Slamming my fist down on the bar top, I make her jump and some of the men react ready to jump to her defense.

“Back the hell off, man,” one of them says. My head snaps in their direction and the fucker flinches at the intensity of my glare.

Bringing my gaze back to Eden she is biting her lip still looking at me. Seconds tick by but she says nothing. Her once feisty persona is gone leaving me with an unsure woman. Clicking my fingers at her to get her attention, she scowls at me and I grin in return.

“That’s better. Now, how about we go up to your office and talk because from where I am sitting, babe, you are hiding something from me and some of these fuckers know about it.”

“Don’t you ever, and I mean ever, click your fingers at me again.” The rage I see in her eyes sparks something deep inside of me and I love the feeling. It tells me that I am still alive, and my heart is still beating.

“Office now!” I grind out, then stand and make my way to the end of the bar, but when I look back, Eden is still standing in the same spot. “Don’t make me come and get you, baby.”

Being a Nomad has made me see people for what they are, the little tells they have. The slight tilt of their heads, the twitch of an eye. Watching people is something that you learn to do when you have so much time on your hands. It can also save your life, especially if your gut is giving you a bad feeling, like the one I am feeling right now.

We stand in a glare-off until she huffs, slamming her hands down on her thighs in defeat, and walks toward me. She storms past me and down the narrow hallway that leads to some stairs that take us up to her office.

Her ass looks beyond hot in her tight jeans, the black t-shirt she is wearing is tucked into the waistband, showing off her curves that my dick likes so much. With each step she takes her ass cheek lifts and falls, begging me to grab onto it and sink my teeth in firmly, making her scream my name.

She pushes the door open, walks around, and sits in her chair, throwing me yet another glare. I cock an eyebrow at her, but she doesn’t back down. Shaking my head, I sit my ass in the chair opposite her and cross my arms over my chest, my leather jacket cracking under the tension from my biceps.

Nothing gets said for a long time, but I can see her thinking over what to say to me. She is working out the best way to tell me something but also something is holding her back.

“How long have you been a Nomad?”

10

Not what I was expecting her to say, but I answer her. I have nothing to hide from her or anyone.

“Years, maybe six. Could be seven. Fuck, I’ve lost count. Why?”

She shrugs like the question she just asked didn’t mean anything to her, but clearly it did, otherwise she wouldn’t have asked it. Why do women always feel the need to beat around the fucking bush rather than come out with straight-up questions and their reasons why?

“Do you ever see yourself staying in one place any time soon?” Her voice is soft but firm.

Her words are like a punch to the chest. I breathe in deeply through my nose, keeping my gaze locked on the woman opposite me.

Have I thought of staying in one place since Jenn? Fuck yeah, I have. Could I stay in one place? I have no fucking idea if I am capable of standing still.

I have been asked this question a few times over the years and my answer was always the same, fuck no. Never want to put myself in a situation where I can have my heart ripped out again.

But looking across at this woman and my heart seems to want to answer differently than before.

“Maybe. Nothing is certain, and to be fair, I have