I'd never thought of a scenario where one might try to put them on, and I didn't know what the hell to do with that. Kicking out, I tried to catch him in the face, but he caught my foot in his hand and shoved a boot on without bothering with a sock.
That alone was wrong on so many levels.
"Let go of me, you tit stain!" I snapped, trying to kick him with my other foot. He repeated the process and gathered up my jacket off the back of my bedroom door while I pushed up to my feet.
This was ridiculous. I was not a weakling. I wasn't pathetic.
How he maneuvered my body to do what he pleased when I wanted the opposite was beyond me. It didn't take him long to slip my jacket on and zip me up while I stared up at him. "What the fuck are you?" I whispered.
"Yours," he murmured, touching my cheekbone briefly as I stood there in shock. Once he'd zipped me up, he grasped me around the waist and slung me over his shoulder while I kicked. My tote draped over his shoulder, he turned and left my bedroom in his wake. Strolling past the mess in my living room, he nabbed the keys off the rack and switched off the lights as he went out the front door and locked it behind him.
"Put me down!" I punched him in the ass, wincing when the rock hard muscle seemed to deflect the blow. He wasn't human. There was no way he could be with an ass like that. I suddenly wanted to take a bite out of it.
He jogged down the steps, somehow jarring me on his shoulder very little and holding me still until he plopped me onto the seat of a Harley like he did it every day.
The wild child in me wanted to rub the supple leather and purr, but the pissed off woman refrained. Before I could stand, he cupped my face in his hands and stared down at me intently. "You're going to hold on tight. I will not be pleased if you fall off."
I closed my eyes, trying to tune out the stare that threatened to make me unravel. He was too much, too fast, too soon.
What in the ever-loving fuck was happening?
There was no way I could survive being around a man like that and not be reminded of all the things I'd never be able to have. I tapped my fingers on my thigh, drawing in a deep breath while I tried to center myself against the magnetic pull he seemed to have over me. There was no logic to it, and nothing that should have made him appeal to me.
"What are you doing?" he asked, and his laugh coated my skin with the faintest tingle. That anticipation that came before sex built inside me in response.
And not just any sex.
Good sex.
"Cursing you," I lied.
"And what kind of curse are you putting on me, Carina?" he asked and warm, minty breath fanned over my cheek when he leaned closer.
"May your left sock always be wet."
He threw back his head, rich laughter rippling up his throat until the intoxicating sound filled the city street with warmth. “Just the left?”
“Yep. More annoying that way,” I agreed. Grabbing a spare helmet from the saddlebag, he dropped my tote down in its place. Sliding the helmet over my head, he tilted my chin up to secure the strap underneath it and pull it tight. Maneuvering himself onto the bike, no simple task with me already sitting on it, he tugged on my hands until my arms wrapped around his waist and pulled on his own helmet that he grabbed off the handlebars. He started up the engine, bringing it to a rumble beneath me that I felt in every part of my body.
Shit.
I was so fucked.
9 Sadie
The gates closed behind us, locking us inside a fortress of a gated community. Other homes with perfect lawns stretched out on either side of the narrow road that wound around the corner as we went further into the neighborhood.
I couldn't look back at the guards by the gate, couldn't see if they treated it like a prison as much as it felt. Logically, I knew the aim in a community like this was to keep people out. I also knew they weren't normally armed with rifles.
Would they keep me in?
The motorcycle revved underneath me as Enzo slowly continued down the winding road.
He drove all the way to the back until we'd long since passed the last house. The only things to look at on either side of the road were empty fields that faded into the night in the distance.
Until, at the very end of the road, there was a house that was a boxy mix of wood, stone, and a smooth stucco face. He touched a button on the handle of his bike, the garage door opened quickly, and he pulled the bike in. The minute it closed behind us, a beeping sound counted down through the space and he hurried off the bike and to a panel on the wall.
He pressed his left thumb to the unit, and I watched as the screen lit up in green and a robotic voice sounded through the garage as the beeping stopped. "Welcome home, Enzo."
He came back to where I sat stupefied on the bike, tugging the helmet off my head and placing it gently on the top of a toolbox. I winced, eyeing the hook above it where the helmet was undoubtedly meant to hang. His helmet followed, sitting next to the one I'd used and distracting me just enough that he tugged me off the bike and pulled me toward the door to the house without another thought. Snagging my bag with his free hand, he looked comical carting my blush tote around like a purse.
The house door closed
