Free Repo (The Henchmen MC Book 4) by Jessica Gadziala

over his shoulder at me, giving me a small smile. "Hey, it's not my fault you're dehydrated. I think it would be easier to get fluids in a crocodile than you," he said, turning back to grab items out of the fridge.
    I pressed my lips together, trying to figure out the protocol. He took care of me when I was sick. For that, I felt like I needed to thank him. But did badass bikers thank other bikers for being nice to them?
    In the end, I figured, to hell with it. I was raised with manners. Regardless of the weird lifestyle I was in, I was going to use them.
    "Thanks for looking after me," I said, my voice a strange, strangled sound. "I know I'm not a good patient. My fevers get out of control." I paused, biting into my lower lip as I prepared to do a little lying. "I get completely delirious and do things that I never would normally do."
    To that, Repo didn't look over his shoulder at me. No, he put down everything in his hands which had to be half the contents of the refrigerator, and turned to me fully. One of his dark brows were raised, his lips teased up at one corner. "Honey, if that is what you need to tell yourself, knock yourself out. But don't fucking lie to me."
    I looked down at the bottle of water cradled between my hands. "I don't know what you're talking about," I mumbled.
    I didn't see or hear him moved but the next thing I knew, his fisted hands caged in mine on the table and I looked up to see him leaning over the table at me. "Can we cut the shit, Maze? I'm good with us ignoring this. In fact, I'm gonna have to insist on it. But don't pretend it doesn't exist."
    I swear there was an alarm going off in my brain screaming "danger, danger, danger!" but I wasn't sure exactly what was more dangerous: acknowledging it or keeping up the charade. In the end, I chose to stick with the latter. "Repo, seriously, I have no idea what you're talking about."
    That was, apparently, the more dangerous choice.
    I knew this because he was no longer leaning across the table, but around it, right in front of me. His hands grabbed the sides of my face. Not held, not cradled, grabbed. He simultaneously pulled me upward as he leaned down and his lips took power over mine, crashing down hard and demanding. He pulled me onto my feet as his tongue traced the crease of my lips until they slid open and he slipped inside. My arms grabbed his forearms, holding on as a shiver ripped through my system. Against my mouth, Repo growled, dropping my face. His one arm went around my lower back, hauling me against his body. The other traveled into the hair at the crown of my head, sinking in, curling, and tugging slightly.
    Another shiver worked through me and my hands went up and around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, holding on tight as his tongue teased mine, retreated, then teased some more before pulling away as his lips took mine again, softer, deeper. I whimpered against him, feeling the desire like a white hot bolt between my legs.
    His teeth bit into my bottom lip hard, holding and pulling, making another whimper escape me. "Fuck," he hissed, releasing my lip, but not my body or my hair. He used the latter to drag my face back several inches so he could look down at me. "That's what I'm talking about," he informed me, releasing me so quickly that I actually faltered a step, slamming my hand down on the back of my chair to keep my feet.
    His back was to me as he grabbed all his items off the counter by the fridge and moved beside the stove, giving me a long minute to pull myself together. I needed it. Actually, what I needed was a cold shower, an hour long session with a powerful vibrator, and about fifteen miles between me and Repo at all times in the future.
    Pretty sure all three options were out for me, I lowered myself down at the table again and focused on drinking the rest of my water and ignoring the frazzled, electric sensation to every inch of my skin, most especially that of my sex.
    I slanted my eyes to look at Repo,