Don't Say It:Ronacks Motorcycle Club(8)

By: Debra Kayn

He grunted. "Nobody has lived in your side for a long time."

"Right," she whispered, frowning.

"Where are you from?" he asked, not caring where she originated, only that he wanted her gone from living beside him.

Gia stepped up to the other side of the open-faced counter. "All over. I was an Army brat until I went to college at U of W. Then, I lived in the Seattle area and...I'm living in Montana now."

"Yeah?" He pulled the container of sugar toward him. "What are you going to do in Haugan? Not much around here requires an employee with a college degree."

"I don't know yet. I have some time until I have to make a decision." She glanced down at his arm. "You were in the service?"

He looked down at his squadron number tattooed on his upper arm. "A long time ago. Learned enough skills to survive and left the career side to better men than me."

She bobbed her head and glanced at the counter. "Coffee smells good."

"You probably don't have much in the way of groceries yet." He turned at the sound of the last gurgle and shut the maker off. "Only have sugar and milk."

"Sugar is perfect."

He handed her a filled mug and motioned with his chin toward the canister in front of her. "Help yourself."

Without any hesitation, she removed the lid, reached in for the spoon stuck in the sugar, and loaded three mounds into her coffee. Amused, he grinned at her eagerness and guiltless calories. He enjoyed a woman who could also enjoy eating good food or drinking flavored coffee.

She glanced up at him, set the spoon on the counter, and lifted her mug. Her eyes closed as the aroma of coffee hit her and her mouth opened. He forgot about his coffee. He forgot about getting to work. He forgot about his dislike of neighbors and keeping to himself.

Her lips puckered, and she blew the steam away from the hot coffee, gingerly putting her lips on the mug. His cock pulsed, hardening in his jeans. He stood enraptured at the way her lips sought the liquid, teasing and tempting.

Gia moaned at the first sip and opened her eyes. "God, that's good."

"How long has it been since you've had coffee?" He widened his stance, easing the pressure in his crotch.

"A couple of days." She shrugged. "With the move, the flat tire, and everything, I haven't made it to a grocery store. Actually, I don't even know where one is in town."

He pulled out his phone, glanced at the time, and took a big drink of coffee, scalding the tip of his tongue. "I need to get going."

"Oh." She drank a bigger swallow, grimaced, and set her cup down on the counter without finishing the drink. "I've taken up too much of your time."

"Hey," he said, grabbing the pot and filling her cup to a hair of the brim. "Take the cup. When you're done, you can leave it in front of my door. I'll get it tonight after I put your new tire on."

"About that..." Her brow furrowed. "I'm serious. I can't let you purchase a tire for my car. I'll figure something out."

"No worries. It's already done." He walked around the counter. "I need to get to work."

She walked ahead of him. He ogled her ass and his fingers curled into his palms. She had hips with a nice flare he could hold on to and keep her close.

Gia stopped in front of the door. Swiss followed her gaze to the right. All that was there was his television, a couple of empty beer cans, a picture, and a helmet he rarely wore sitting on his console.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

She jolted and stepped through the door. "Thanks again for the coffee...and the tire."

"No problem." He locked the door and strode to his bike.

Removing his skullcap out of his back pocket, he pulled the tight material over his head to his eyebrows, started the bike, and looked over to the front of the duplex.

Gia had already gone inside, shut up tight in her part of the building with the only coffee mug he owned that had no chips. He pulled away from the curb and headed to work. Once he got the damn tire on her piece of shit car, he'd have his quiet existence back.

Chapter Four

A white truck with Leery's Tire Supply written on the side door stopped in front of the duplex. Gia peeked out the window, holding the pistol in her hand. Her last mini bag of Doritos gone, she blamed the shakes that riddled her body on hunger. Unused to living on junk food from a convenience store for two days, she needed something solid to eat.