Dark Temptation (Dark Saints MC Book 2)(50)

“Well, you’re in luck. Riding fast and out of here is my current destination.” I put out a hand, and she hesitated. She looked down the road. It was empty. Was she expecting something to be there? It was just the two of us. Her gray eyes were beautiful, no question, but scared.

The road she’d been running along was deserted that I knew since I was on it. What was she so worried about?

We stood on opposite sides of a drainage ditch that kept the Michigan country roads flood free in the wet spring. We were the only two people in sight on this clear spring Sunday morning.

A biker and a bride sizing each other up. I’m sure it made a curious picture.

Then she put her hand in mine. I noticed how rough and dark my skin looked next to her soft white skin. I also noticed a stiffening in areas I did not expect. It was a shock. Apparently, I had a Princes Bride fetish that I was unaware of until this second.

I pulled her across the ditch and up to me. She leaped at that same moment, and we were about half an inch apart. I took a breath in through my nose. There was a sweet smell to her hair. Maybe it was the flowers. I could see they were real and interwoven in this elaborate hair situation. I wanted to get closer to her. To breathe in again. Instead, I stood still and let her get her balance.

Her stormy eyes met mine. I meant to kiss her. I really did. I questioned myself again. Had someone put a magic mushroom on my last pizza?

But I snapped out of it.

“Where to?” I said.

“Anywhere but here,” she said, and she kept her hand in mine.

“Alright, Princess.” I guided her up to my bike and watched her hike her dress up. This time, I caught a glimpse of garter belts. Shit. This was likely a very messy situation I was helping her out of. But the garter belts were enough. Mess or not I was putting her on my bike.

“My name isn’t Princess.” She said.

“Oh yeah, well you look like one. Except for those kicks.” I answered as I made sure she had all of her dress up and safely tucked in away from my tires and around her.

“My name’s Juliet, Jules. You can call me Jules.”

“Sounds like a very princess name if you ask me. I’m Ryder. Keep that dress up so you don’t get killed. And hold on tight.”

“Are you headed to a town?” She asked me.

“I’m headed to a campground. Few days off. That work for you?”

“It’ll do for now. Let’s go.”

“Okay Princess, uh, Jules.” And I got on my bike and kicked the stand out. I revved it up and unleashed. If she wanted to go fast, I’d show her fast.

She held on, looser than I’d recommend at the speed we were going. She was a little wild this runaway princess bride. That was clear. She liked the speed so I took the pins out for her.

I wondered for a second, who was the prince or groom she’d left behind? Was he the one that sparked the fear in her eyes when she’d looked at the road behind her?

I didn’t wonder for long. Instead, I enjoyed the road, the wind, the clean air, and the feeling of having Jules lightly hold on as we road.

The smell of flowers mixed in with the smell of my leather. The combo worked. It worked like crazy.





Jules



Hot. There was no other way to describe Ryder. He was hot. He looked like Brad Pitt era Thelma and Louise wrapped tight in leather and topped off in a Mohawk. And he had the sexiest smile I’d ever seen. I mean ever. And I had been treated to some sexy smiles when I dated the captain of the football team in college.

Ryder’s smile let me know he’d seen my garter belt but wasn’t going to mention it. He didn’t need to.

I had been on fast bikes before. And I knew exactly what every patch on Ryder’s leather meant. He was Sergeant-at-Arms of the Great Wolves M.C., Grand City Chapter.

I was raised in the club. Just not that one. I was raised to hate the Great Wolves because Daddy said to.

“They’ve gone soft, and they act so fucking superior. Fine with me. I’ll take every last cent they would have earned. Idiots.”

I’d heard that and versions of it right before I’d left home for college. Now that I was back, I tried to remember the latest. I remembered Daddy saying there was some sort of trouble, but I hadn’t listened to details.

I wish I had. Whatever. I could use Ryder’s fast bike and clear appreciation of my looks to get as far away from the church as possible. He’d told me to hold tight, but I didn’t need to. I could have driven this bike myself. I held on but only just enough.

And I kept looking back. I envisioned the scene. Ross would be in deep shit when my Daddy realized I’d slipped away. That gave me a pang of guilt, but I brushed it aside. He’d have to fend for himself just as I was doing.

I squeezed my eyes shut and blocked out the scene. I didn’t want to imagine the rage I had set off in my Daddy.

I had to stay in the present if I didn’t want to be dragged back by my hair to that damn church. For a brief second, I let myself enjoy the ride. Enjoy Ryder. He smelled good. He felt good, and he was handling this bike well. Fast, confident, but also careful. He was making sure I had a good ride. Which I noticed as he smoothed out the curves and avoided the constant Michigan potholes.

I put my head on his shoulder. I shouldn’t have. But it felt right, and it helped me think. It helped me plan. I had to stay out of sight. Was this campground Ryder was headed to also a good idea for me?