Wanting to capture his face I snap a few shots as he turns around. The look on his face is both intense and sexy at the same damn time. He flexes his jaw and takes a few steps toward me, stopping a few feet in front of me. His icy eyes bore into mine, sweat running over his eyelids and down his strong facial features.
“I thought I told you to stay upstairs? Dammit, Lyric.” His voice is thick and harsh as he fights to catch his breath.
I swallow as he grabs my camera and removes it from around my neck, setting it down on his dresser. My treacherous eyes wander down to his stiff chest and abs, landing directly on the V of muscle leading down into his jeans. The narrow, moist patch of brown hair almost causes my mouth to water as I think about what it leads to.
“I’m leaving,” I blurt out, unsure of how to act now that my resolve has crumbled. “I was coming to let you know. Now give me my camera so I can go.”
He walks forward until I’m backed against the wall with his arms pinning me in. He inhales a deep breath and leans down so that his lips are just inches above mine. Our bodies aren’t touching, yet my stupid body is reacting as if we are. My breathing picks up. I smell his minty breath mixed with hard liquor as it brushes against my lips.
“You like taking pictures of me, Lyric?” He presses his body a little closer, but still doesn’t touch me. Call me crazy, but my body is screaming for him to at this point. “I can bare the rest of my body right now and let you take as many pictures as you want as long as you promise to keep my jacket on. Is that what you want? Huh, Lyric? Because that is all I can do for you.”
I fight to catch my breath before I place my hands on his sweaty chest and push him away. He hasn’t even touched me and I am so damn turned on that I can’t fight the wetness forming between my legs. Just the thought of his sweaty, naked body is insanely hot. Him offering to show it to me . . . I can’t even go there. I just need to get out of here.
“Just because I like taking your picture does not mean that I want to see you naked. It means that . . . just never mind. I don’t have to explain shit to you. I’m out of here.”
I walk past him and reach for my camera, replacing the cap.
“Let me walk you and make sure Ryder isn’t there.”
He runs up the stairs ahead of me and I quickly follow up behind him. I’m not used to having any man try to protect me. It gives me an odd feeling of warmth, yet makes me feel weak. I’ve always taken pride in being strong enough to take care of myself. I don’t understand why he has the urge to protect me.
I finally catch up to him and see him standing outside his garage door, leaning into the frame. He doesn’t even turn around before speaking. “Looks like you don’t need me to walk you home.” He looks me up and down, stopping on my breasts for a quick second before he turns around and runs a hand through his hair. “Keep the jacket. I’ll get it later.”
Then just like that—he walks away.
I look down at my breasts to see that my nipples are hard once again, the piercings pressing against the tight fabric.
“Great!”
I’m pretty sure I know when that happened.
Memphis naked . . . don’t even consider it.
I walk past a stunned Bailey and Landen, closing myself inside my room.
Push it far from your mind, Lyric. I’m sure it’s easier said than done . . .
IT’S BEEN ALMOST A WEEK since I last saw Memphis, and I can’t help but to wonder where he’s been. I mean, who the hell just takes off on a motorcycle with no bags or personal belongings and doesn’t return for that long? Is it weird to admit I’m a little worried? I shouldn’t be, but I am.
I have found myself going through my camera, looking at the pictures of him on more than one occasion since they were taken. I even uploaded a few of them to my computer and edited the images. Not that they needed much editing. There’s something so damn beautiful about him that he’s almost painful to look at, yet I can’t stop. Honestly, I don’t want to.
The last time I saw him he was leaving his house. It was close to midnight and I couldn’t sleep. The sound of his motorcycle caught my attention and since I was already sitting by my window—I peeked out. He was wearing a plain white shirt, a pair of faded jeans, and some old worn out Chucks. His dark hair was standing up all over his head as if he’d been tugging on it. The sight of him made my stomach knot up for some odd reason, but I just brushed it off.
It’s almost as if he knew I was looking because not even five seconds later . . . his eyes met mine. I couldn’t make out his expression very well in the dark, but from what I could see—he looked extremely stressed and bothered. He just stared at me for a moment, lost in thought, before he abruptly turned his attention away and drove off.
I remember it being chilly that night, and it made me wonder why he still hadn’t taken his jacket back from me before he left. Since then I have been bringing it to work with me just in case he needs to get it while I’m not home.
I know it sounds stupid, considering the fact he doesn’t even know where I work, but I have a feeling he could find out easily if he really wanted to.
Pulling open the glass door to Ravage, I nod to Styles who is shoving a whole donut in his mouth. I reflexively lean into Ryan as he places a quick kiss on my cheek. They both look half asleep and just ready to pass out any second.
“Hey, boys. Late night?” I look them both over with a grin, secretly enjoying their misery before searching through the box for a glazed donut. I take a quick bite, moaning as the sweet goodness melts in my mouth. I close my eyes to add effect. I don’t care who you are; no one passes up glazed donuts. “Mmm . . . this is delicious.” I lick my fingers clean. “They’re fresh this time. I’m impressed.”
Setting down Memphis’ jacket, I yawn before taking another bite.
Ryan reaches around me for the leather jacket and holds it up with a smirk. “Why have you been bringing this jacket with you every day this week?” He holds it next to me, showing that it’s too damn big to be mine. “You can just give it to me now. Stop pretending you haven’t been thinking about me. Gifts are completely acceptable.”
I shove the rest of my donut in my mouth and snatch Memphis’ jacket away from Ryan, who just scrunches up his face.
“Mind your own business, Ry. Don’t you have some tattoos or girls to do or some shit?” I ask, the sarcasm dripping from my tongue. “I’ll be in my room setting up, and before you ask, NO I will not pierce your penis again so don’t even try.”