Page 32 of My Enemy Biker

"I did."

"One more broken promise and I'm gone. I will not be the woman who tolerates that because she wants the man more than she respects herself."

"Understood."

We're staring at each other across four feet of charged air. Anger and want tangled together so tight I can't separate them anymore.

"I'm terrified of this," I say.

"I know."

"Goes against every lesson I learned in Detroit. Every reason I moved here. Every instinct telling me to stay away from men like you."

"I know."

"I'm doing it anyway."

His eyes search my face. "You're certain?"

"Stop asking me that. I hate repeating myself."

Something dangerous flashes across his expression. Heat and recognition and hunger. "Then say it so there's no confusion."

"I'm choosing you. This thing between us. Whatever it is. I'm in."

He moves fast. Three strides and his hands are cupping my face, tilting my head back, his mouth crashing into mine hard enough I taste copper where my teeth cut my lip.

I kiss him back just as hard. Bite his bottom lip deliberately and he groans, crowds me back against the wall.

His hands slide into my hair, fist tight, control the angle while he deepens the kiss.

I dig my nails into his shoulders through his shirt and he makes a sound low in his throat that goes straight between my legs.

We break apart breathing hard.

"Bedroom," I manage.

"You sure you want—"

I grab his shirt, start pulling him toward the hall. "Ask me if I'm sure one more time and I'm changing my mind."

He actually laughs. Quick flash of a grin that transforms his whole face into something younger and less controlled.

Then it's gone and he's picking me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, his hands under my thighs taking my weight like it's nothing.

He carries me down the hall, kicks my bedroom door open, sets me down beside the bed.

Steps back two feet.

"Before this happens," he says, voice rough, "you need to understand something."

"What?"

"I've been thinking about this since you opened that door and I wanted to know how your skin felt. Since you argued with me for ninety minutes and I wanted to fuck you over that table while you were still telling me I was wrong."

Heat floods my body.

"So when this happens," he continues, eyes locked on mine, "it won't be gentle. I'll make sure you're ready but I'm not going to be careful or easy. You understand what I'm saying?"