I blinked.
Then I asked quietly, “What?”
“Darlin’, you’re the greediest piece of ass I’ve had in my bed in a long f**kin’ time. I got a taste for greedy, you think I’m not gonna take it?”
Now he was definitely being rude.
“I’m not greedy,” I whispered.
He leaned back. “Jesus, you f**kin’ are. So f**kin’ hungry, you nearly wore me out. And, darlin’, that’s sayin’ something.”
This was already not fun and it was getting less fun by the second.
“Can we not talk about this?” I requested.
“Yeah, absolutely, we can not talk about this. That works for me. It also works for me you showed since you didn’t leave your number before you took off on Saturday. So give me your number, get your ass in your car and I’ll call you when I got a taste for you.”
Oh my God. Did he just say that?
I felt the blood stop rushing through my veins as my entire body solidified.
“Did you just say that?” I asked when I got my lips moving again.
“Red, give me your number, get your ass in your car and I’ll call you when it’s time for us to play again.”
He did. He did just say that because he’d also just mostly repeated it.
I clenched my teeth again but this time for a different reason.
Then I asked, “Do you know my name?”
“What?” he asked back.
“My name,” I stated. “I told you my name Saturday night and I know I did so don’t tell me I didn’t.” And I did. I absolutely, totally told him my name. In fact, I’d done it at least three times when he kept calling me “Red”.
“You’re shittin’ me,” he said again.
“Stop saying I’m shitting you. I’m not. What’s my name?” I demanded to know.
“Babe, who cares? We don’t need names,” was his unbelievable answer.
“Ohmigod,” I whispered. “You’re a jerk.”
“Red –”
“Totally a jerk.” I kept whispering and he crossed his arms on his chest.
“Two choices, Red, give me your number, get your ass in your car, get outta here and wait for my call or just get your ass in your car and get outta here. You got five seconds.”
“I’m not getting in my car,” I told him. “I’m waiting for Eloise to come and show me the ropes then I’m going to work.”
“You are not gonna work here,” he returned.
“I am,” I shot back.
“No, you aren’t.”
“I am.”
“Babe, not gonna say it again, you aren’t.”
That was when I lost it and I didn’t know why. I wasn’t the type to lose it. You didn’t lose it when you planned every second of your life. Caution and losing it did not go together.
But I lost it.
I planted my hands on my hips, took a step toward him and lifted up on my toes to get in his face.
“Now, you listen to me, scary biker dude,” I snapped. “I need this job. I haven’t worked in two months and I need this job. I can’t wait two more months or longer to find another job. I need to work now.” His blue eyes burned into mine in a way that felt physical but I kept right on talking. “So you’re good-looking, have great tats and a cool goatee. So you caught my eye and I caught yours. We had sex. Lots of sex. It was good. So what? That was then, this is now. We’re not going to play, not again. We’re done playing. I’m going to come in at eight, leave at five, do my job and you’re going to be my scary biker dude boss, sign my paychecks, do my performance evaluations and maybe, if you’re nice, I’ll make you coffee. Other than that, you don’t exist for me and I don’t exist for you. What we had, we had. It’s over. I’m moving on and how I’m moving on is, I’m… working… this… job.”
I stopped talking and realized I was breathing heavy. I also realized his eyes were still burning into mine. I knew he was still angry but there was something else there, something I didn’t get because I didn’t know him and I couldn’t read him. But whatever it was, it was scarier than just him being angry which, frankly, was scary enough.
When he spoke, he did it softly. “You think, Red, right now, I put my hands and mouth on you in about two minutes you wouldn’t be pantin’ to be flat on your back, legs wide open in my bed?”
At his words, I forgot how scary he was and hissed, “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m right,” he fired back.
“Touch me, you bought yourself a lawsuit,” I retorted acidly.
“You are so full of shit,” he returned.
“Try me,” I invited hostilely though I didn’t want him to. Not that I thought he was right, but because he was a jerk. A huge jerk. And I’d just decided I’d rather be touched by any man currently residing on death row before I wanted Tack to touch me again.
“Is everything okay?” We both heard and our heads turned to look down the steps to see Eloise at the bottom looking up at us with wide eyes.
I opened my mouth to say something to Eloise, what, I had no idea but before I could speak, Tack did.
“You tell her she wears that fancy-ass shit to work again, her ass is canned,” Tack growled and I watched Eloise’s body jerk in surprise.
She was in jeans, a tight t-shirt and high-heeled sandals and I was in a pencil skirt, blouse and high-heeled pumps therefore I had to admit I definitely made a mistake on the dress code but it wasn’t worth termination.
I looked to him to see his eyes cut to me. “And you,” he said, “I taste you again, any way I can taste you, and I will, Red, trust me, you’re gone. Outta here. Get me?”
“You won’t,” I declared and he glared at me then his eyes moved over my face. They did this for a while and while they did this, they changed. I could swear I watched the anger leak clean out of them and something else, something curious, something warm, and therefore something far more frightening filled them.
His warm blue eyes locked on mine and he muttered, “We’ll see.”
Then he stepped away, jogged down the steps, sauntered to a bike, threw a leg over it, started it, backed it out and roared away.
“What was that?” Eloise asked, I jumped and turned to see she was standing at my side.