Dirty Ride (Wind Dragons MC, #3.5)(10)



Why is he like this?

A bad boy with a good heart.

I’m so f*cked.

“Good,” he says, leaning forward and kissing me softly on the lips—barely a touch, but I feel it.

I feel it more than I’ve ever felt a kiss in my life.

I run my index finger along my bottom lip.

What the f*ck was that?

I don’t know. But I want it again.

Ardan tilts his head and smiles, his dark eyes almost black. “And finally you feel it too.”

Another kiss, this time on the forehead, and he walks to my door. “Lock it, Valentina.”

I follow him and lock it the second he leaves. I hear a faint “Good girl,” before the sound of his steps becomes distant.

I turn around and look around the motel room, suddenly feeling . . . I don’t know, almost lost. I shake my head and walk to the bathroom. I need a shower and bed, and then I need to mentally distance myself from Ardan before Friday comes around.

How hard could it be?



“What are you doing?” I ask him as I step into the kitchen. He turns and grins. “You’re home early.” I put my bag down on the table and wrap my arms around him. “Something smells good.” I lift my head. “What’s the occasion? You never cook.”

He kisses the top of my head. “I was going to surprise you with a candlelit dinner. Why did you have to finish early on today of all days?”

I look toward the dining table, seeing four white candles sitting there in the center. “That’s so sweet, Darren.”

He puts the ladle down and grips my cheeks in his palms. “I love you so much. Just wanted to try to do something nice for you to show you I appreciate you.”

He kisses me, and I smile against his lips.

I wake up suddenly, panting and glancing around the motel room.

Fuck.

Something I’ve realized is that it isn’t always the bad memories that get you. Sometimes the good memories can do more damage, cause more pain, because they make you question yourself, and make you wonder where it all went wrong. When was the moment that it went bad? Can I pinpoint it?

I rub my eyes and then cover my face with my hands.

He’s still coming after me, in my dreams now. The only time I can’t control my thoughts.

And he’s not even hurting me in my dreams—no, he’s killing me with kindness and memories of good times.

My alarm goes off, and “The Hills” by the Weeknd starts to play. I listen to the entire song before making myself jump into the shower and wash my hair.

Time to get ready for work.

Fuck the past. It has no place here.



Friday comes around quickly, and I’ve found myself looking forward to tonight. If I’m being honest, I haven’t stopped thinking about Ardan since I last saw him. After work I drive home, take a quick shower, and get dressed in jeans and a white tank top. Since Ardan didn’t tell me where we were going, I wear flats instead of heels, aiming for comfort over sexiness. He messaged me a few times during the week, and I have to wonder what’s going through his mind.

Is he a man who likes the chase, but once he has me he loses interest? That’s the most likely situation, and I don’t know what to do about it. I like him. I like spending time with him. And I am excited to see him again. Yes, I am probably an idiot, but he is my only friend, and he’s pushed his way into my life thus far and it seems he intends to stay. A knock lets me know he’s here, so I grab my knit cardigan off the bed and unlock the door.

“Hey,” I say, brow furrowing as he steps inside, some tools in his hand. “What are you—”

“Putting in a better lock for you,” he says, pulling out a rectangular silver latch and holding it up against the door. “Won’t be but a few minutes.”

I open my mouth and then close it.

Who does stuff like this?

“You realize I won’t be staying here for long, like, at all,” I point out, watching as he drills a new high-tech lock in.

“Yup,” he replies. “But you’ll be safe for that time, now won’t you?”

I sigh and mutter, “You’re crazy,” to which he replies, “Fuckin’ batshit.”

When he’s done he turns around and grins, handing me the new key, which I put down on the table. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I tell him, touching his leather jacket. “I didn’t know where we were going tonight, so I wasn’t sure how dressy to get.”

“You’re perfect,” he says, pulling me against his hard body.

“You’re not so bad yourself. Thanks for the lock,” I say, lips kicking up at the corners. “Better than the normal, boring flowers most men bring.”

Ardan throws his head back and laughs. “Yeah, I guess you can say I’m not very traditional.”

I rest my face against his chest. “I’m more than okay with that.”

“Valentina,” he says in a quiet, deep tone. “You should probably stop touching me, unless you want to cancel tonight, because I’m about to lift you against the wall and f*ck you.”

I shiver at the quiet sincerity in his voice, the sensual threat that has me biting my lip. I take a step back and lift my chin. “We better go, then.” I walk to the door and half turn so he can see my face. “But when we get back, I think our first time should be on the bed.” I smirk. “Then we can try the wall.”

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