Out of the Ashes (18 page)

“You learn your lesson?” he asked, his eyes not leaving mine.

I shook my head. “I think I might need some extra tutoring in the near future. I’m a slow learner,” I whispered.

Then he shocked me. His eyes stayed dark with desire, but his mouth, his beautiful mouth turned up at the corners. It wasn’t a smile; it wasn’t even a grin. But it was a smidge of emotion peeking out from the hard façade. I’d totally take that.

“You’re still taking the check,” I added, upset that I had to wipe the half smile off his face. But I had to stand my ground.

His face returned to the granite expression that I learned was his default.

“I’m not taking the fuckin’ check,” he clipped.

“Yes, you are,” I responded, hoping to sound as strong as him. I feared my upper body strength was lacking, as was my bad ass tone. And goatee.

“It’s sorted. Deal with it,” was his response, and he turned to move towards the car.

He did not just dismiss me and turn his back on me.

“Um, excuse me? The conversation does not end when one broody flipping biker decides it with his usual two syllables,” I declared haughtily, rounding the hood to face him. “The conversation ends when both participants decide. I,” I pointed to myself, “am a participant. Therefore, I declare this
not freaking over
.”

Zane looked up. His glare had returned and he didn’t respond.

“Um, a sexy glare does not a response make,” I shot at him. “Just because God granted you with devilish good looks, a crazy amount of muscles and a serious talent in the bedroom does not mean you get to go around glaring and paying for people’s car repairs,” I half yelled, even though it almost certainly actually did. My stinging ass and sated vagina could testify to that.

“Keep yelling like that, I’ll fuck you again. Till you can’t speak,” he ground out.

I swallowed, totally hating that this turned me on. On that thought, I realized something was missing. Why I didn’t notice this earlier was beyond me. My eyes darted around the floor. “Where are my panties?” I asked on a lower decibel. My mind whirled with the thoughts of someone like Lucky finding them while he was going about his day. I searched more frantically.

Zane’s gaze turned hooded. “They’re mine now.”

I swallowed again. Okay, so I should be a little creeped out over the fact that Zane was keeping my panties. Instead, my bare downstairs tingled at the thought. I was totally glad I wore a lacy yellow Victoria Secret thong today.

“You’re gonna walk around all day in that short little skirt, your pussy tender from my cock and your ass stinging from my hand and remember.” His voice was raw.

My stomach tingled.

“The panties,” he continued, “can count toward your payment for the car.” His attention went back to the car.

“You’re telling me you want me to accept that you think a pair of my panties serves as a payment for my car repairs?” I asked in disbelief.

“Don’t want you to accept it. It’s already done,” he half grunted.

I stared at him awhile, my mouth agape. “I have actually lost the ability to have a sane conversation with you about my car when you’re talking panty payments and ... rude things,” I trailed off, embarrassed.

“Good. You can leave then,” he said, his voice back to flat.

I felt myself deflate. Here was something I was familiar with. Being dismissed after sex. Not that I could complain. I let it happen. But I couldn’t help the twinge that had me feeling on the verge of tears.

My silence seemed to be an answer, because he straightened and walked over to the button hanging from the ceiling, pressing it, all while his eyes burned into me. I flinched at the grating sound of his garage opening. I stared at him a moment longer before turning on my heel and walking on shaky legs toward my car, feeling vulnerable in my lack of underwear, and slightly more like the whore he promised I wasn’t.

Bull gripped his wrench so hard he was surprised he didn’t snap it. He heard the heels of her shoes as she left the bay and it took every fiber of his being not to lift his head and watch her leave. He wanted to. More than anything. Watch her tight little ass sway in that delicious fuckin’ skirt. Know that her red ass grated against the fabric. Her bare ass. His cock pulsed at the memory of her taking it, taking his hand like she was born for it. She fuckin’ loved it. His Wildcat. Only when he heard her car door slam did he watch the red Beetle hurtle out of the parking lot at high speed.

Lucky was mounting his bike at this moment; he sat on it and watched the car screech out. Then his gaze turned to Bull. They locked eyes for a second, Lucky’s gaze hard. Bull scowled at him and brought his attention back to the car.

Or tried to.

Then there it was, without warning. An attack. The memory of
her
. Of something they didn’t have. The sex was good with her. Brilliant, in fact. But she was tiny. So fucking tiny and so fucking sweet, he was terrified he’d break her half the time. So he held back. He’d never shown her what lay deep down. The desires that he had been happy to suppress, for a lifetime with her. He didn’t have to do that with Mia. Hold back. He lost complete control when he fucked her, with a brutality he didn’t think any woman could handle. But she did. She loved every fuckin’ minute of it.

He shook his head, feeling more pissed than ever. He needed to stop thinking that shit. ‘Specially needed to stop thinking of
her
. If he didn’t he’d be going down a road even darker than the one he was already on. The road they said was paved with good intentions. He definitely needed to scrape Mia off. Bitch was messing with his brain even though he said it was only sex. It was more. He fucking knew it. She was getting under his skin. He needed to stop it. And soon.

Bull finished working for the day, and instead of going to the clubhouse and drowning his sorrows in a bottle of whiskey like he should have, he went home. He started working on his bike, to keep his hands busy, his mind busy. The garage door stayed open out of some sort of self-flagellation. There it was. Her place. Right there. The urge to go over there, to see her again, to fuck her again, to fuckin’ apologize was so strong he actually caught himself getting up a couple of times. Christ, he didn’t only want to fuck her. He wanted to
talk
to her. He never wanted to talk to anyone. Not even his brothers could hold an extended conversation with him. Even with Gwen he mostly just listened. But with Mia he wanted to talk. The woman was funny. Hilarious even. She never fuckin’ shut up. Even when she was spittin’ mad she babbled. Fuckin’
panty payments
.

On that thought, the sounds of laughter carried across the street. Male laughter. Bull narrowed his eyes at the now open garage door directly across from him. Lexie was grinning at a couple of guys who were carrying rucksacks, one with a guitar case. One actually hugged her as she walked out with them to a car at the curb. Bull restrained the urge to go over and rip the little fucker’s head off. He watched as the shitheads piled into a car and drove off. Lucky for them.

Lexie’s eyes traveled with the car and then settled on him.

“Zane!” she called on a grin and started to run over.

Fuck.

She ran right into his garage, right up to his bike with a grin. No fear, no hesitation, just an easy smile. He wasn’t used to that. People approaching him with a smile devoid of fear, devoid of judgment.

“Hey, Zane,” she greeted, slightly breathless.

“Lex,” he nodded, unable to only give her a nonverbal nod as was his custom.

“I hope the noise didn’t disturb you—we tried to put some soundproofing up, you know, as to not brass off the neighbors, but I’m not sure how effective it is,” she babbled, chewing her lip. “Mom can still hear us from in the kitchen. I know because she texted me a draft of my Grammy acceptance speech.” She gave me a worried look. “As a joke,” she quickly added. “We’re only a high school band—we aren’t even that good yet, but Mom’s delusions have us set for stardom.”

Bull had trouble taking this all in. “A band?” he ground out.

Lexie nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing. She played with the handlebar of his bike. Normally this would get him riled and ready to punch anyone touching his bike. But not her.

“Yeah, you see those guys leaving before?”

Bull nodded tightly.

“That’s my band!” She frowned slightly. “We still have to think of a name. It’s kind of a sticking point between the guys,” she shrugged, “creative minds and all that.”

That’s who those fuckers were? Bandmates? Jesus. He’d have to have a little talk with the nitwits, make sure they got no fuckin’ ideas about inter-band relations.

Lexie had abandoned the perusal of his bike and was now wandering around his garage.

“You should come and listen to us once we get a little better,” she added over her shoulder. “Or maybe once we get our first gig.” She paused. “Hey!” she called in an excited voice. “I didn’t know you played!”

Bull followed her eyes to the guitar resting in the corner of the room, lying half-abandoned in its dusty case.

“Long time ago,” he said quickly, battling with the memories attached to it. The demons.

Lexie gave him a shy smile. “You should come and play with me.” She hesitated. “Maybe you could even teach me some things.” Her hand trailed along the faded case, dust sliding off. “Mom couldn’t afford to get me regular lessons, especially after she bought me my guitar, so I’ve mostly taught myself. YouTube’s great, but it would be so cool to learn off a real life human being,” she finished quietly.

Bull’s stomach clenched. No fuckin’ way. He could barely look at that thing, let alone touch it again. That was the only reason it sat in a forgotten corner of his garage and not a trash pit. He couldn’t physically put his hands on the thing. No fuckin’ way was he getting it out to play fuckin’ teacher to a teenager.

“Yeah, kid, all right. Maybe,” he heard himself saying. He had no clue why he said it. Maybe it was the thought of Mia struggling to give her daughter something she obviously loved. Something she obviously lived for. And then that daughter being smart enough and dedicated enough to teach herself. Maybe he had finally dropped off the fuckin’ deep end. But the light in the grin that lit up Lexie’s face because of him…that’s what settled in his gut, chasing away the poison that usually resided there.

“Really? That is aces, Zane! I’m free, you know, whenever. Well, apart from when I’m obviously at school. But any time after that. Seriously. Whenever suits you,” she chattered, her words almost blending together.