Page 16 of Biker in Love

“I think we need to have this conversation when my dick isn’t inside of you.”

“Red?” I whined. “Tell me.”

He shook his head and pulled me out of his lap. I stood like a three-legged giraffe and leaned against the bar.

“No, you need to get dressed.”

I rolled my eyes and looked around. “Well, if you wouldn’t have tossed my clothes around like you’re Lebron James, I would be able to.”

He chuckled and stood. “Behind the bar, baby. I think my pants are over by the jukebox.”

I rolled my eyes but made my way around the bar. “Start talking,” I muttered.

“I called you that to Angela. She could tell something was up and surprised I had quickly put an offer on my place. You’re going to find out; it’s better to spill your guts to Angela because she’s going to find it out anyway.”

I spotted my shirt between the beer taps but needed to find my bra. “You didn’t even know me. What was there to tell?”

He shrugged and pulled his shirt over his head. “Just that I liked you. She didn’t like you because women in my past had just been enamored with the bike or my money. She figured you were like all the other women.”

I frowned and spotted my panties next to a large jar of olives. “I didn’t know you had money, and I was scared of your bike until you took me for a ride.”

“I know,” he drawled. “And Angela figured that out the second she talked to you. Once you said the word wine cooler, she knew you weren’t like other women.”

“My love of wine coolers won over your sister.” I shimmied on my panties and looked around for my bra and shirt. “Odd, but I’ll accept that.”

Red walked over to the bar, fully dressed, minus his boots. “Missing some clothes?” he laughed. He sat on a barstool and watched me. “You know, this reminds me of how we met.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and I propped my hands on my hips. “You were hot as fuck, and it took all of my willpower not to nail you right there on your deck.”

I folded my arms over my chest and glared at him. “Ha, ha. I’ll have you know that topless sunbathing will not be happening anymore. You’ll have to deal with my tan lines.”

A wide smile stretched across his mouth. “You can topless sunbathe; I just need to be present if you need someone to reapply your sunscreen.”

The front door swung open, and Red swiveled on his stool. “We’re closed!” he bellowed.

I dropped to the floor behind the bar and prayed to god whoever had walked in hadn’t seen me. Red was the only one who could see me topless from now on.

“Red,” a female voice sang. “I was just driving by and saw your bike outside.”

I crawled around on the sticky floor, trying not to think about all the crud I was kneeling on, and looked for my bra.

“We’re closed, Monica.”

“And?” the woman drawled. Her tone was light and flirty. She knew Red and thought she was entitled to walk into his bar when it was closed.

I needed to find my bra and get dressed. Why was I always topless at the worst times?

“And I guess I need to remember to lock the damn door,” Red growled. He did not sound happy at all to see whoever the hell Monica was.

I wasn’t dumb and naïve. Monica was probably a woman from Red’s past he was more than familiar with. Did I like her? Not at all. Did I need to find my damn bra? Yes.

“Oh, come on, Red. You never used to talk to me like that,” she purred. “I was thinking maybe you were taking inventory and could use some company.”

I scoffed and finally spotted my bra in between two kegs. I snatched it up and struggled to put it on.

“Stop fucking touching me, Monica,” Red growled.

My eyes widened, and I had heard enough. I popped up from behind the bar, my tits in my hands and my bra dangling off my arm. “I think Red has all the company he needs with me,” I called.

The blonde bimbo with hair teased to the heavens jumped back and pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh my god,” she gasped.

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