Page 8 of Could Be Worse

I was about to have sex with a handsome, charming stranger. Afterward, I’d never see him again. What harm was in that? People had casual sex all the time. My heart wasn’t in jeopardy of being broken, because I knew nothing about Mr. Phenomenal Kisser. It would be only sex. Carnal. Delicious. Steamy sex.

As he jogged to his truck, I admired his tight ass and long legs. He had an athletic build, and from what I felt in his biceps, he was strong. His jeans fit him like a glove, faded in all the right places, accentuating the curve of each butt cheek and the tops of his thighs. Beneath his clothes, there might be a mural of tattoos covering every inch of his body.

God, I hope you have ink on your amazing arms and chest. And anywhere else would be fabulous too.

Would I even get a look at him nude? Probably not.

How would we do it in his truck? Would he want to get in the second row? I hope not.

Straddling him in the front seat would fulfill one of my many fantasies. Nobody I knew owned a car in New York City. Although I’d heard of people masturbating and getting each other off in cabs and on the subway, I had never done such things.

As I was five foot five and all legs, it might be a challenge for me to climb atop him, but I’d make it work. I was an accomplished ballerina, after all. Capable of bending myself like I were made of clay, into positions most people couldn’t do.

My heart fluttered, and excitement whirled through me at the possibilities. I honestly couldn’t believe what I was planning to do with a stranger.

But I didn’t have a single bad feeling about Mr. Phenomenal Kisser. I sensed he had an honorable side, mixed in with his ruggedness. His hands were rough with calluses, and his nails were trimmed but not manicured. Clearly he worked with them, like many of my uncles in the club. He didn’t appear wealthy or refined, like the other guys I’d dated. And he was obviously a good sport, as I’d roped him into pretending like we were together.

He made me laugh.

Kissed with desperate abandon.

And he’d paid for my food when he didn’t have to. Overall, he was down to earth and was a welcoming breath of fresh air, after living among stuffy, snobby, and disgustingly rich people in Manhattan. Though I loved the energy in the theater district, I missed my family and home in Minnesota.

After everything I’d been through, this evening had turned out to be the most exciting I’d ever had, the sort of thing I’d seen in movies and read in books. Two strangers meeting in a restaurant and having an undeniable chemistry, then leaving together. Intercourse usually followed next.

I once thought insta-love encounters were unrealistic. Same for a one-night stand that turned into happily ever after, especially the mind-blowing sex part. Not so much anymore… I might think it possible, but not falling in love and the HEA. I definitely wasn’t in love with Mr. Phenomenal Kisser. Jeez, how could I be, when I didn’t even know his real name or his astrological sign?

No, I was only interested in enjoying my first time with a stranger and out-of-this-world sex.

My clit pulsed during the drive to wherever he was taking me. I rubbed my little ball of nerves through the fabric of my babydoll dress, to keep up the tension and ache.

Trusting a stranger might have been stupid, but I liked the intrigue and risk involved. I’d been raised in a motorcycle club, where a lot of bad things happened. My parents had tried to shelter my siblings and me, but I heard the whispers. Felt the buzz of wrath and vengeance crackling in the clubhouse. My dad and the others would transform into scary, badass men when a threat entered their territory. They’d stomp around and bark orders. I’d fed off their power and strength. Absorbed their delirium into my soul.

Being a biker brat made me resilient and fearless. All the girls had been trained in self-defense. We could handle a gun and knives. My dad wouldn’t have allowed me to live in a concrete jungle if I couldn’t protect myself.

Yes, Mr. Phenomenal Kisser could be a convict, but I could take him if needed.

Or he could be a murderer, but I was prepared to disarm him if it came to that.

But what could be worse—something I wasn’t prepared for—was him having a family, and a wife.

No, I shook my head. Absolutely not. He didn’t seem the type to have an affair, but then why was he sitting at the bar alone?

Duh, having a meal like you, silly.

I parked beside his truck and made eye contact with him. My heart raced as we stared at each other. I could tell he knew I was questioning the impromptu decision I’d made.

He shrugged and mouthed, It’s okay, then put his truck in reverse. A weird sensation filled my chest, forcing me to jump out of my car and wave my hands. He stopped hard, jerking his massive pickup.

I inhaled a nervous breath and got into the passenger side of his Ford. “Are we really doing this?”

“Only if you want to. For a minute there, I thought you’d changed your mind.”

“I almost did, but there’s something I need to know.”

“Okay.”

“Ever been convicted of a violent crime?”

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