Eventually Bing decides he’s had enough of me (or needs to teach me a lesson for abandoning him to Mark’s dubious charms) and disappears under the bed to check out his new kingdom. Vik rolls off the bed, saunters over to the table by the window. His butt in those jeans is a work of art. They should showcase it in the fine art gallery downstairs. Better yet, if he were on display, he wouldn’t be reaching for my sandwich bag. He pulls my dinner out, unwraps it and takes an enormous bite.
“That’s mine.”
“I rescued your cat. I don’t get a thank-you present?”
“Thank you.” I grin happily at him—and stick my hand out for the sandwich. Hello. I haven’t had dinner yet.
“Halfsies?” He gives me a charming grin, which is not what I need right now. Hell, now I’m going to have to share with both a biker and a cat. I’ll be lucky to end up with any sandwich meat at all. It’ll be all banana peppers and lettuce for me.
“How did you convince Mark to give up Bing? Wait. Back up.” I’m missing a step here. “How did you know where I lived?”
He shrugs like it’s no BFD. “You had to give your driver’s license to Gia at Ink Me. And Mark the Douche may not be aware that he’s a cat light at the moment.”
“You stole my cat.” I know I’ve already said this, but it bears repeating.
He hands me half of my sandwich. “That’s a technicality. I left the back door wide-open on my way out. Just how much of a dick is your ex?”
Sadly, I don’t have to think hard. “Huge. He’s a dick of pornographic proportions. Twelve inches of sleazy man schlong.”
“Then we’re good. He won’t want to tell you that he lost your Precious.”
I’m not sure what he expects me to say. Yeah, thanks so much for committing a felony on my behalf. I must be some sort of freak because I find it kind of hot, so maybe we can go knock over a bank or clean out Tiffany’s before you ride away? None of those seem appropriate, so I concentrate on my sandwich.
My half a sandwich.
Now that I’ve got Bing, I’m not giving him back. From the way he’s wolfing down salami, I’m not sure Mark was feeding him.
“I can’t keep a cat in a hotel room. I don’t even have a litter box.”
Vik points to the corner. “I brought supplies.”
In my reunion glee, I hadn’t even noticed the two large carriers from the pet store chain. There’s even a giant plastic container of cat litter. I spare a second to wonder how Vik got all this up here. Or if he came on his bike.
“But I’ve got a better idea.” He polishes off his sandwich half and looks hopefully at mine. Not a chance. I shove the rest of it into my mouth, and he snorts. “You don’t like to share, do you?”
“Uh...” I work on chewing and swallowing.
“You’re in luck, babe. I’m very good at sharing. You and Bing can move in with me.”
I choke on the last bite of my sandwich. “You don’t think that’s a little too friendly? First you offer to be my booty call, and now you’re offering to be my roommate?”
“I’ll even put out for you.” He winks at me. “Total friends with benefits.”
“What?” I shake my head, pretending I’m not staring at his chest. He makes it so hard to think straight. “I can’t move into some stranger’s place. That’s like just begging you to be a serial killer and bury me under the porch.”
“Don’t have a porch, babe. You’re safe.” He reaches out and tugs me down onto the bed beside him. This is dangerous territory. It’s not that Vik doesn’t take no for answer—it’s that I’m all yes, yes, yes when I’m around him.
“We barely know each other,” I protest.
I sound totally mature, like a grown woman making all the right decisions. Good one, brain. If I’d known he’d be here tonight, I’d have made a list of all the reasons why moving in with him was a really bad idea. In fact, once he leaves tonight, I’ll get right on that. And this new plan of mine is totally working, right up until the moment he rolls over and props himself up on one arm. One hard, inked, super-close-to-me arm.
His bare skin is my Waterloo.
Worse, he tugs me closer with his free arm. My stupid, traitorous body rolls right up against him like we fit together. I’m always taller than most of the men I meet. Mark was two inches shorter, although he claimed we were the same height. Vik being built like a mountain, however, almost makes me seem petite. Okay. Not really, but we’re a good match.
“I know you’re fucking gorgeous.” His gaze, full of appreciation, slides over me, and I swear I feel my clothing melting away.
“That’s an outside thing, not an inside.” I know I’m not making a whole lot of sense but I blame that on his outside. He’s still way too gorgeous, and whenever I look at him, my brain stops functioning. Plus, now my fingers are sort of petting his arm, tracing the dark swirls of ink that wrap around one hard, perfect male bicep.
Biting him is suddenly way too tempting.
“Inside, huh? Too bad I can’t remember our first meeting.” He laughs wickedly when I pinch him. Guess he doesn’t mind a little pain, either. “I know plenty about you, Harper. I know you like numbers, you count everything, you’re way too nice for a guy like me and you’re good with animals. Those are all good qualities in a roommate, although your being nice won’t stop me from trying to score with you. I’ll bet you’re also the bomb at paying bills on time and doing all the organizational shit. I should probably
