Hot Ride(4)

"But I'm not-"

He frowned. "I could taste the liquor."

She pursed her lips. "You had a beer. Does that mean you shouldn't drive?"

"I had one." He raised an eyebrow. "And you?"

"I had …  um."

Two? Or was it three?

"That's what I thought."

He picked up her shoes and purse from the ground, then placed them in  the cargo case on the bike. He pulled out a helmet and handed it to her.  She strapped it on as he pulled out another helmet for himself.

She gazed down at her short skirt, wondering how she would get her leg over the bike without revealing all.

He watched her as he strapped on his own helmet. "Just lift your leg over. I promise I won't look."

Given that he'd just turned her down flat, she believed him, but still  she tugged on the hem of her skirt as she lifted her leg over the bike  while he pulled on a black leather jacket, then threw his leg over the  bike and settled in front of her.

"Put your arms around me and hang on tight."

She slid her arms around his hard, muscular body. The smell of leather mixed with his musky male scent was intoxicating.

"Where are you staying?"

She gave him the name of the hotel and the address. Seconds later, the  bike roared to life and she clung to him as he pulled out of the  alleyway and drove down the quiet street. Within moments they were on  the main road heading toward her hotel.

The air blasted past her as they sped along. She drew in a deep breath  and rested her head against his solid back, her cheeks blossoming with  heat as she thought about how she'd wantonly thrown herself at him. She  could still remember the feel of his big, warm hand enveloping her  breast and her insides quivered. She wanted him so bad. Longed to feel  him thrust into her. It would have been so dirty and sexy if he'd pushed  her up against that wall and driven into her right there, taking her  hard and fast.

She pressed her cheek tighter to his leather-clad back. Oh, God, what  must he think of her? He'd definitely been aroused by her, but had held  back.         

     



 

What did it say about her that a man like that, who probably fucked  strange women all the time, didn't want her? Even though his body  clearly did. Was there something wrong with her?

The bike slowed down and he turned into a parking lot. They'd arrived at  the hotel. He drove around the building and stopped by the back  entrance. He dismounted the bike and wrapped his hands around her waist  and lifted her from the big machine, then set her on the ground. He  grabbed her shoes from his storage bin. She pulled off the helmet and  handed it to him, then he handed her the two shoes and her clutch purse.

"Thanks for the ride."

He shrugged. "Least I could do after getting you thrown out of the bar."

He walked her to the door.

She pulled her keycard from her purse, then hesitated. "I'm …  uh …  sorry about the kiss."

He smiled. "Don't be."

She gazed into his warm, dark eyes and her heart thumped. "Are you sure you don't want to-?"

"Hayley, it's not happening. I know you'd regret it in the morning."

She bit her lip. Would she?

He took the keycard from her hand and unlocked the door, then pulled it open.

"Good night, Hayley. It was nice meeting you."

She nodded and slipped inside, but as the door started to close, he said, "Wait."

Her heart leapt. Had he changed his mind?

She turned back to see him pulling his hand out of his jeans pocket, then he held something out to her.

"Don't forget your heel."

She stared at the black spike lying on the palm of his outstretched  hand. She picked it up, her fingertips tingling as they brushed against  his skin.

"Thanks." Then she stepped inside and the door closed behind her. She  watched him through the glass as he walked back to his big bike and  climbed on. He sat there watching her, too, so she opened the door to  the stairwell, which had windows along one wall, and walked up to the  second floor. She could see him driving across the parking lot on his  big bike, then turning onto the street. Before she reached the top step,  he was gone.

And now if only the memory of him would disappear as easily.







In the morning, Hayley woke up to buzzing. She glanced around for an  alarm clock to turn off, then realized it was the phone. She picked it  up.

"What happened to you last night?" Tina asked on the other end of the line.

"Oh, I broke a heel and decided to call it a night."

"You missed all the excitement. A fight broke out in the bar and that biker guy got thrown out."

"Really? Did you see it happen?"

"No, there were too many people in the way, but the word went around  that some woman got thrown out with him. I wondered if you saw any of  it."

"No, not really."

She didn't want to admit that she'd been the one. Aside from the  embarrassment of being thrown out of the place, she'd find herself  telling Tina the whole story, including the part about her throwing  herself at the guy and him turning her down.

"I don't know who the woman was, but she had guts going off with a guy like that."

"Do you think he was dangerous?"

"Yeah, in a sexy kinda way. Just once, I'd love to throw caution to the wind and be with a guy like that."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be," she mumbled, forgetting herself.

"What was that?" Tina asked.

"Oh, nothing. Want to meet for breakfast?"

"Sure. How about twenty minutes."

"Perfect." She hung up. Twenty minutes would be tight, but at least that  meant she'd have no time to dwell on the sexy biker named Rip who had  turned her down.







The morning went by in a flurry. Breakfast with Tina, then to the  hairdresser, back to the room to put on makeup and change, and finally  off to find a taxi to the church.

Tiffany, the bride, was beautiful in her long flowing gown dripping in  lace, and the bridesmaids were all stunning in burgundy silk. The sun  shone and everything was perfect. After the ceremony, Hayley, Tina and  some of the others went for coffee while the bridal party went to have  photographs taken in the beautiful gardens in the large park nearby.         

     



 

"Good thing you didn't go off with that guy last night." Marianne  snickered. "It turns out he started a brawl in the bar. You might have  gotten hurt."

"Tina told me." Hayley so wanted to wipe that smart-ass smile off  Marianne's face by telling her the bad-assed biker had actually given  her a ride home, but she knew that would lead to more questions and  she'd wind up cornered, having to admit that he'd rejected her. That  would be humiliating.

Brooke started speculating about who they might see at the wedding,  including old boyfriends, and soon everyone was chattering about that.  After a while, Hayley glanced at her watch, wondering if it was time to  go back to the hotel, which was where the reception was being held. It  was five forty-five.

"We should be leaving," she said to Tina.

"What would we do without our little number watcher," Marianne said  smiling. She stood up and pulled on the satin jacket that matched her  dress.

Everyone gathered their things and they went outside and grabbed a cab.  When they arrived at the reception, they found they were all seated at  the same table.

"Thank me, girls," Marianne crooned, "because Tiffany was going to put  us at different tables so we could meet new people, but I insisted she  put us together so we could catch up on old times.

Damn. It was going to be a long evening.







As the elevator approached the mezzanine level, Rip glanced in the  mirror and adjusted his tie, which felt like it was going to strangle  him. The doors whooshed open and he stepped into the atrium, crowded  with wedding guests streaming toward the ballroom. He followed the flow  and soon found himself staring at a seating chart on the wall, looking  for his name.

A pretty redhead stepped beside him. "Can I help you find your seat?"

She smiled at him, her brown eyes sparkling. From the burgundy dress,  which accentuated her generous breasts and slim waist, he could tell she  was one of the bridesmaids.

He spotted his name, not far from the head table.

"I got it," he said. "Table 54."

"Oh, are you the best man's brother?"

"How did you know?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I helped with the seating chart. You're the only single  man at that table. Tiffany put you there to be close to Clay." She  smiled. "My name's Sandy, by the way."

She offered her hand and he shook it. "Thanks, Sandy."

"Maybe you could save me a dance," she said.

He smiled. "I don't normally dance, but could make an exception."

She beamed. "That would be great. I know where you're sitting, so I'll come find you after dinner."

He crossed the large room to the bar to get a drink, then walked to his table and sat down.

He wasn't big on weddings and had intended to leave shortly after  dinner, but maybe spending a little time with the shapely Sandy might  lead to something more. After thinking about the raven-haired Hayley all  last night and what a total idiot he'd been to turn her down, he was in  need of sexual release. If Sandy was game, or if he found some other  willing woman, he could fuck his brains out tonight, and sate the  growing ache inside him.