“He’s all right, if you like the biker type.” I push our hot sex out of my head and brush off his hotness. “I have to run. See you tomorrow.” I wave and start the short walk home.

“You want a lift?” she asks, but I decline; the fresh air is great after working long hours.

“No, I’m good,” I smile, and wave her off. I don’t look back and don’t make eye contact with Sy as I pass him.

“You aren’t going to say hi?” he calls out, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. I can’t react. I’m still pissed about last week. Instead, I pick up my pace and hope he gives up. His bike starts up; the rumble of the pipes vibrating in the still, early evening. He roars past me and I ignore the feeling of frustration that he’s gone. I don’t know why it bothers me. He’s done nothing but be a dick since the first day I met him at the tattoo shop. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, but I’m not that bad. Turning the corner to my street, I regret the disappointment from a few moments ago when I see his bike parked out the front of my apartment building. Great.

“What do you want, Sy?” I snap when I get to my drive and see him resting against my car. There’s no point ignoring him when he’s gone to all this effort.

“I’m clean,” he assures me, putting his hands in his pockets and looking slightly guilty.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna trust you,” I tell him, not the slightest bit interested in his bullshit. I made an appointment to get tested next month. Fucker.

“I get checked every six months.”

“Great, thanks for letting me know.” I nod and turn, leaving him standing there.

“Wait,” he calls out, but I don’t. What I should do is cut his big, fat cock off and make him eat it.

I don’t know what it is about this man. He has this pull that I can’t fight, even if he is a mess of contradictions. His attitude yesterday should have been enough to douse the fire building in me, but even after the way he acted, all I can think about are his tattooed arms holding me up against the wall. Jesus.

I make it to the elevator before he catches up. “Go away,” I groan as he steps in behind me, not giving up.

“No. We’re going to talk,” he calmly replies. His tone surprises me.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“We’ll talk when we get inside.”

“Umm, no, we’ll talk now,” I protest. No way is he getting back into my apartment.

“No,” he merely states.

“Yes,” I reply, not giving in. The doors open, and in one fast motion, Sy has my hand and is dragging me to my door.

“Let me go, Sy.” I try to pull away, but his hold is too strong.

“Open the door,” he demands in his powerful voice.

“Fine,” I huff, opening the door and turning to stop his advance.

“You are not welcome, Sy. Say what you have to say and leave.”

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out.

Once again his response surprises me. “No problem,” I say, accepting his apology, hoping he’ll take that as leave to go. I need to be away from him.

“Don’t do that,” he growls.

“Do what?”

“Brush me off.”

“Sorry, I don’t want to chat, Sy. You’re kind of an asshole. Excuse me for not playing into your bullshit.”

“I’m sorry. I am an asshole.”

“Yes, I already know this,” I agree, almost laughing at how ridiculous we might seem.

“Holly, just stop,” he growls. The sound of my name and the pleading in his voice has me retreating. “I fucked up. I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admits, and for the first time since I’ve known him, I feel his honesty.

I don’t know what he expects from me, so I don’t say anything.

“I don’t know what the fuck to do with you, Holly,” he says, taking a step toward me.

“Sy,” I warn him, watching his jaw tick and his fists flex. “You should go.” The tension between us builds again. Jesus, this is ridiculous.

“What if I don’t want to go?” Taking another step inside my home, he kicks the door shut.

“I need you to go.” I put my hand up, stepping back to stop him coming closer. The anticipation as he closes in has my heart picking up speed and my breath coming in short, shallow bursts. “Sy,” I all but whisper as his mouth descends on mine. My early declaration of never letting this man near me is over with just one touch of our lips. But it’s not just a simple kiss that has me coming undone. The hungry kiss is rough and raw. Nothing like the other day as our teeth smash, our tongues duel, my lips bruise, and my stomach drops—all from the touch of our mouths.

Every thought I had of the man in front of me has gone out the window with just one kiss. Breaking the connection, he brings my dress up over my head exposing my naked breasts to him in the middle of the living room. My hands find his pants, eager to feel him under my fingers, but he stops me again, holding my wrist in his large grip.

“Fuck you, Sy,” I growl. Once again, he won’t let me touch him.

“Don’t,” he warns, before taking my mouth hard, silencing me with his tongue. I want to stop this, tell him it’s bullshit that I can’t touch him, but his hands find my breasts and all thoughts of putting him in his place disappear as his hands work their magic.

“Turn around and get down on your hands and knees,” he commands. I don’t even hesitate for one second. Sliding my panties down my legs, I turn and do as he says. What is it with this man that has me disregarding all my rules?

“Condom?” I ask when I hear him drop his pants behind me, without looking back.

“Fuck that, I want you bare again,” he states, running his shaft between my ass cheeks.

“No, Sy.” My words leave me on a heavy breath when he finds my slick entrance. My brain is screaming at me to stop this, to not let it go on, but my body has taken over. Even though I know how ridiculously stupid this is, I can't stop it.

“Yes,” he growls, leaning against my back. “I haven’t been with anyone since you,” he admits before leaning forward and biting down on my shoulder.

“Jesus, you’re a biter,” I accuse as he licks at the spot he just chomped on.

“Mmmhhm,” he slowly enters in soft, gentle strokes.

“This is wrong,” I say breathlessly, but not putting up much of a fight anymore because feeling him inside me, skin to skin, feels way better than it should.

What is wrong with me?

“So wrong.” He repeats my sentiments, and then bites down on the opposite shoulder as he picks up speed.

“Stop biting me,” I complain half-heartedly, too lost in the feeling, too lost in the moment.

“No,” he grunts, pulling my hair back and biting down on the side of my neck, hard. The pain and the sting send me over the edge as he pumps into me harder. The thrill of how he causes me to react this way vibrates through me. My body moves in time with each hard thrust, building with the frantic need to feel more.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, his hands coming to my waist, his fingers digging into my soft flesh. A mixture of pleasure and pain that only Sy can give me erupts inside of me as his release takes over, pushing me into the bliss I crave.

“Don’t move,” he warns as he comes down off his high. Still planted inside of me, his movements slowly start back up. The sensation of gentle strokes while his fingers dig painfully into my skin have me building back up again.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, kissing my shoulder.

“No,” I answer, shaking my head.

“Good,” he says, pulling out of me slowly. He then presses his body weight on top of me. Oh, my God, what is wrong with us?

“What was that?” I can’t look at him, too pissed off with myself to make eye contact.

“That’s what seems to happen when we’re alone,” he answers, rolling off me to the side. “Didn’t come back here to do that. Wasn’t expecting that, but fuck, every time I’m around you and you open your mouth, I can’t help but want to rip your clothes off,” he admits, both of us still lying on the floor.