Page 15 of Their Princess

She surprised me, though, by hardening her expression and marching over to the back of Rafe’s bike. There, she threw open the trunk and grabbed a pair of jeans and riding boots. Seemingly without a second thought, she kicked off her heels and dragged the jeans up under her skirt. Sliding the skirt with drying blood over the skinny jeans, she tossed it to the side and then put on her boots.

Guess she did come prepared. I held out my hand to my bitch seat again, seeing if she would take the bait. I had some plans for the pampered doll if she would just bite.

She glared as if she could intimidate me.

I laughed. She was half my size. Kid size. Bite size—I licked my lips. I could eat her and spit her back out. Devour her. Fuck her so hard she saw stars. She would be covered in my saliva, sweat, and cum, and it would be a glorious ride.

She broke eye contact first, inclining her head to her uncle. “Let’s go, Rafe.”

Her uncle, while he jumped at her words, looked like a caged animal.

He opened his saddle bag and pulled out two leather vests, handing one to the brat, before he straddled his straight-off-the-dealership-floor ride.

There was something about the quiet man I couldn’t pinpoint. Something feral and dangerous. Like he was the last person who might explode, but if he did, he’d probably wipe out the entirety of Park Ridge. Perhaps I just needed to get him in the ring and throwing punches to get him talking.

Just as well that she chose him. Wifey-to-be probably didn’t know how to lean into turns. So, if that’s how she wanted to play the game, I would win. I always did.

Chapter Four

ADELINA

I hated the motorcycle.The rumble between my legs and the wind messing up my hair were bad, but I couldn’t look down the road, because the wind hurt my eyes, and opening my mouth was out of the question. If a bug flew in, I’d barf, no matter how fast Rafe pushed the beast beneath us.

The rumble kept me from hearing my own thoughts.

Why would anyone think this was fun?

And the gas-fumes . . .

I curled my face into Rafe’s shoulder, smelling the new leather of his jacket. I used his wide shoulders as a shield, and I gripped onto him around the waist for dear life. The heat from the sun and reflecting off the black asphalt pressed into me, and the violent wind still did little to keep me from sweating. In fact, the leather stuck to my face.

Rafe stiffened in front of me, and I thought he was about to shove me off the bike. Instead, it was like he gave it more gas, pushed the bike harder. We hurdled through the air, leaning so deeply into the curves, I could touch the blacktop if I reached out. I wouldn’t of course. We were so close to crashing.

This was dangerous.

Terrible.

I tightened my grip around my already tense uncle, feeling the ridges along his stomach and hardened hips. His abs and back flexed, his arms tense and working the controls on the handlebars. Rafe and the bike almost seemed to want me off, as if they were a bull and I was the idiot who dared to get on his back.

If he didn’t want me riding with him, he shouldn’t have offered. Then again, he hadn’t. I had just stalked over, ignoring how my future husband kept trying to lure me onto his ride. I wasn’t his bitch until there was a ring on my finger, and then he would see how big of a bitch I could be.

The motorcycle slowed somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Geez, they didn’t even have truck stops down here, only portable shitters on the side of the road.

Once the engines were cut, it was too quiet. My body still vibrated, and my ears buzzed like there were bees zipping around inside my head. Birds cawed in the distance, and there was something in the sand and between the cactuses. Something was watching us.

Rafe leaned back on the bike, tapping my hands locked around his torso. “You can get off now, Adelina.”

I didn’t trust my legs. The vibrations made my muscles feel like they’d been in a blender. Fortunately, I had changed into boots before we left Park Ridge. But Rafe leaned the bike over and dismounted. I slid off and stumbled, my heel catching on a rock. When I started to list to the side, another one of the bikers caught me.

“You good?” asked Graff, his tattooed hand lingering on mine.

It was the first hint there may have been someone in this gang I could connect with, but that’s the opposite of what I wanted.

“Yeah, um”—I pulled my hand from his grasp—“Thanks.”

Sas laughed. “Does the princess have a problem with her steed?”

I flipped him off. So much for being ladylike in an unladylike position.

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