Prickly Business by Piper Vaughn & Kenzie Cade

head, causing more pain each time around?
    “Come on,” Dylan said gruffly. “Grab the jacket. Let’s go.”
     
     
    “H ANG ON tight,” Dylan called over his shoulder, then leaned forward slightly as the beast beneath him roared into motion.
    A wide grin split his face. Avery didn’t hesitate wrapping his arms around Dylan’s waist as the hog roared down the road. Tight. Intimate. Dylan’s breath hitched when Avery’s lithe frame pressed fittingly against his back, the way Avery clung to him as if he was his only means of protection. Dylan even liked the way Avery’s helmeted head pressed to his back. The brat was more endearing the more time Dylan spent with him. He was glad Avery couldn’t see his face. He would probably get the wrong impression.
    And what impression would that be?
    Dylan’s steady balance didn’t waver when he felt a tickle above his belly button—not much knocked Dylan’s concentration—but he was surprised when he realized it was Avery. His hands resting low at Dylan’s waist, Avery’s graceful fingers had found their way beneath the cotton of his shirt and were petting the groove bisecting his abs. Goose bumps raced up his neck with a barely suppressed shiver. Dylan grabbed Avery’s hand to stop him. The next thing he knew, their fingers were laced together.
    A feeling Dylan couldn’t—and didn’t want to—explain fluttered uncomfortably in his chest. He glanced down at their entwined hands—Avery’s long, delicate fingers paired with his work-roughened, grease-stained cuticles.
    Apparently Dylan needed to keep reminding himself of the meaning of “not meant to be.” Pulling his fingers from Avery’s grasp, Dylan white-knuckled the handle. When Avery tensed against his back, Dylan felt the slight distance it put between them as if it were miles, but he didn’t take it back. He wouldn’t. For both their sakes.
    Parking was always a pain downtown, and midday didn’t make the task any easier. After locating a curbside spot a couple of blocks from the bank, paying homage to the parking gods by way of the meter, and attaching the ticket to his seat, Dylan growled out a “Wait here,” then strode down the sidewalk.
    Less than an hour of annoying paperwork later, Dylan exited the massive building, with an envelope of fifteen grand tucked inside his back pocket. He was almost surprised to see Avery exactly where he’d left him. With his butt resting against Dylan’s bike and face tipped up to the sun, Avery would have looked carefree if Dylan didn’t know better. Although he had to admit—and only to himself—seeing Avery on his bike, in that too-big leather jacket, knowing Dylan’s scent leached into his pores, marking him… it did things to Dylan. And fuck if Dylan didn’t like those things.
    As if Avery could sense Dylan’s thoughts, he pulled the jacket tighter around himself and buried his nose in the collar, inhaling deeply. A groan erupted deep in Dylan’s chest, and Avery’s attention snapped to him, bright pink patches tinting both cheeks. Dylan chuckled.
    He closed the distance separating them in a few strides and pulled out the envelope, flapping it in front of Avery.
    “Are you sure you’re okay taking this grease monkey’s money to help you out of trouble?” It was a dick move, and Dylan knew it. Throwing Avery’s original sneer back at him should have been sweet and satisfying, but even after doing so, Dylan only had the desire to soothe the hurt he’d caused.
    Avery’s happy smile fell from his mouth, fury reddening his face. “You know what?” he spat. Resentment and devastation blazed behind the wounded expression when Avery shoved his chest. Hard. “Fuck you and your money. I don’t—”
    “Slow down, killer.” Dylan gripped Avery’s bicep before he could move away. “You’re going to take the money. And you’re going to say thank you.”
    “Fuck you.”
    “Only if you beg, brat.”
    Avery’s mouth drew into a tight line, and