“It’s the bike, isn’t it?” he asked, eyes bright.
“It might have something to do with it.”
“That wasn’t your first time on one, was it?”
“First time riding bitch.”
That got a half-smile out of him.
And, damn, it did intriguing things to his already annoyingly handsome face.
He leaned back against the door, crossing his arms, and letting his eyes slip closed.
“What are you doing?”
“Just imagining that for a minute,” he said. “Any chance you were topless at the time?”
“Nothing but a G-string,” I lied. “And a pair of stilettos.”
“You ruined it,” he said, shaking his head at me. “No way your feet stay on the pegs in heels.”
“That’s where your fantasy draws the line? Not the G-string and toplessness?”
“A man has to have standards.”
“Good to know.”
“So, what’d you do to get yourself arrested?”
“Me? Arrested?” I asked, pressing a hand to my heart. “I would never, ever do anything against the law.”
“Oh, yeah, you got ‘good girl’ written all over you,” he drawled.
God, some part of me really, really wanted to hear him call me a ‘good girl’ in a completely different context. Preferably naked. His breath in my ear. His hands gripping my…
Okay.
That was enough of that.
“Perfect angel,” I confirmed. “No parking tickets. Never roll through stops. Pay my taxes.”
“Any chance you avoid parking tickets and moving violations because you’re doing illegal shit?”
“A lady never reveals her secrets.”
“No, huh? Even if those secrets have something to do with hundreds of thousands worth of guns?”
Dammit.
God damn it.
If I hadn’t been so distracted by how unbearably hot the guy was, I might have put it together sooner.
The biker was at the exact right place at the exact right time. Who was willing to get me out of there, no questions asked?
Of course,of course, he was one ofthosebikers.
I had about a million questions about that. Pretty high on that list was how they found my damn warehouse. But those would have to wait.
