Page 3 of Biker in Love

“Because if you were my woman, you wouldn’t be out here sunbathing topless for all the world to see.” He stepped back and disappeared.

“I have a fence,” I whispered. And there went my chance at getting help. Hottie McBiker walked into his house, and I rolled onto my back. “I just want to get in my house,” I whined. I cupped my breasts with my hands and watched an airplane fly overhead.

Now, it was possible the whole world could see me.

I sat up and blew my hair out of my face. Maybe I needed to be resigned to the fact that I would have to live on my deck until Kelly returned from Texas.

“Coming over, baby.”

My head jerked to where Hottie McBiker had been, and I was surprised to see him walk out of the house. “Your gate open?” he asked.

“It should be open. I never lock it.” It was more meant to deter people from staying away. I leaned forward and watched him until he was out of view. Maybe I wasn’t out of luck.

Ten seconds later, he appeared and walked up the steps. My head slowly leaned back until he was standing over me. “Hello,” I whispered.

His deep green eyes traveled over my body, and I returned the favor.

Hottie McBiker was hot. I knew that from the few times I had seen him, but he was even better up close. He looked a bit older than I had first thought, though. Still hot.

His tight across-the-chest white t-shirt, ripped blue jeans, and chunky black motorcycle boots screamed bad boy biker. His dark brown hair was tousled from the wind, and tattoos peeked out from his shirt's collar and arms. He was well over six feet, and he oozed confidence.

“Yeah.”

I shook my head. “What?” I was so caught up trying to see him all at once that I hadn’t noticed what he said.

“I asked if you wanted to cover up.”

I needed to cup my hand over my eyes to shield the sun away, but if I did that, I would fully expose myself. “Uh, it would be nice, but I don’t have a towel or anything.”

He crouched in front of me. “I brought you a shirt, baby.”

“Oh,” I whispered. “That was really nice.”

He held the black shirt out to me. “I’m Red, by the way.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Uh, I’m Tara, and if you could just drop that in my lap, that would be great.” That shirt was exactly what I wanted, but I wouldn’t reach for it. I had made it this far without flashing Red and would keep it that way.

And that is when Red knocked my socks off. At least he would have if I was actually wearing them.

His. Smile.

My god.

It should be registered as a weapon.

A gun to my head would have had the same effect as his smile.

He could have smiled at me and asked me to jump off a cliff, and I would have.

“What?” I asked.

Red’s eyes darted to the left and then to the right. “I didn’t say anything, baby.”

“Tara,” I whispered as if I didn’t like him calling me baby. He could have called me Bologna, and I would have swooned.

“Put this on while I try to get you back into your house, Tara.”

My ovaries did a flip at the sound of my name. “Okay,” I choked.

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