Page 19 of Idaho

When the heat of his chest met my back and his arms surrounded me, I froze. He ripped the pillow out of my hand and tossed it back onto the bed. "Not happening. Get in."

CHAPTER 8

Idaho

Iwas pushing her, testing her. It was impossible not to. She was fucking gorgeous when she was angry. And she'd changed into a shirt that bared her stomach, and leggings that molded every curve, making her into a sexy fucking goddess. Even if I didn't want her sleeping here with me, there'd be no way for me to resist her. I knew nothing about the woman, except her name, and that Thomas wasn't her fucking cousin. I found myself needing to find out everything I could. I was a controlling bastard. Not knowing who she was, and everything about her, was going to pick at me, like an itch under my skin.

Picking up my phone, I shot a text off to James, my PI. He'd take care of my problem. He was fast and efficient. It shouldn't take long before I had a new file in my hands. "Eva," I growled, when she just stood there staring down at the bed. I wasn't about to let her out of my sight. The clubhouse was safe, and secure, thanks to everyone pitching in to guard the property. That duty would fall mostly to Static, Priest, and me, but it was our night off. Which was why Butcher and Toxic had been out by the gate when Thomas had forced his way onto the property. I wasn't going to worry about the damage he'd incurred tonight. There would be plenty of time to deal with that tomorrow.

Eva let out a sigh, then crawled onto the bed. I eyed her round ass as she moved over to the wall and laid down. She pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and closed her eyes. "Goodnight."

I chuckled as I walked over to turn off the light. I didn't bother answering her, just stripped off my pants and climbed into bed beside her. She was stiff as a fucking board when my body met hers. "Relax," I told her. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'm not afraid of you," she said, voice sharp. "And don't touch me."

"Too fucking bad," I told her, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her closer to me. Her ass was nestled against my dick, making it harden. I knew she could feel it because she sucked in a harsh breath. "You're sleeping here with me so I can keep an eye on you. It's not like we haven't already been in close proximity."

"Riding your motorcycle with you isn't the same at all. And you know it," she shot back.

I chuckled, shifting slightly so that I was in a more comfortable position.

"This really isn't proper," she told me again.

"Proper," I echoed. I'd never met a woman like her. "Are you religious?"

"What?"

"I'm just trying to figure out why you're so uptight."

Her gasp made me grin. "I'm not uptight."

"Could have fooled me." I squeezed my arm around her. She tensed even more, proving my point. "You need to relax or you're going to hurt yourself."

"I'm not used to men manhandling me," she snapped.

I couldn't help but chuckle again. "Then you've been hanging out with the wrong men." Leaning forward, I let my lips brush the shell of her ear. "Want me to show you how good it could be?"

"No!" She tried to squirm away from me, but there was nowhere for her to go unless she wanted to fall off the bed.

I laughed as I settled back against the pillow. Her movement was torture because she was rubbing that glorious ass against my hard-on, but I wasn't about to ask her to stop.

She eventually settled, resigned to remaining in my grasp. Watching over her didn't require her to stay in my bed, or in my arms, that was all me. I wanted to be close to her. The way her skin heated told me she didn't exactly hate this. Fuck, I should have made finding some pussy more of a priority. Maybe then I wouldn't be so fucking protective over the first gorgeous woman I came across.

"I'm not religious." Her voice broke the silence. "I was just raised in a different kind of environment."

"Convent?"

She was facing away from me, and it was dark, but I still knew she was rolling her eyes. "My father is very protective."

"Sounds like a good man."

"I'm not surprised you think so," she muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're protective, too. You'd probably get along with him."

"Where are you from?"