Page 11 of Virgin Skin

“This is Fall Crosse, and that motel isn’t exactly a hotspot. I wouldn’t be surprised if they leave the desk unmanned during slow hours.”

My stomach sinks. “Shit. Seriously?”

He shrugs, but he doesn’t look entirely hopeful. “Let me give you a ride and we can check.”

I follow him out and hop on the back of his bike again. The ride back to the motel is disappointingly short—barely enough time to shamelessly press up against him from behind. And, sure enough, the door to the motel office is locked, with a sign that says someone will return in the morning and lists a number to call in case of an emergency.

Is getting a new room key an emergency? I guess it is considering my options are that or sleep on the sidewalk and probably freeze to death overnight.

“Fuuuuuck,” I groan again, sagging against the door and banging my head on it. “Maybe I could break a window to get into my room. Think they’d charge me for that? Assuming someone doesn’t see and call the cops first.”

Piston grimaces and paces the sidewalk in front of me for a minute, shaking his head and chewing on his lip. After a minute he stops in front of me and lets out a long breath.

“You can crash at my place tonight and I’ll bring you back here in the morning.”

My heart jumps and I push off the door to take a step closer to him. I heard everything he said earlier, and I definitely decided I was going to respect it and not push his boundaries, but my hand moves all on its own, reaching out to grab a handful of his t-shirt. Piston’s breath catches and his eyes darken.

“As long as you promise to behave,” he adds in a deep, gruff voice, like he’s just barely holding on to his resolve.

I bite my lip and nod slowly. “Promise.”

Chapter 5

PISTON

This is a mistake.Milo presses himself closer than necessary on the back of my bike and the way my body reacts to the warmth of his makes that muchextremelyclear. But what am I supposed to do? I can’t let him spend the night curled up on the doorstep of his motel room like a stray dog. Hell, I wouldn’t let a stray dog sleep out there if I had anything to say about it.

It’ll be fine. It’s one night. I can control myself foronenight alone with Milo.

The chill of the night air nips at my bare skin as I ride through the quiet streets towards home. Knowing Milo is warm in my jacket is enough for me though. It’s a short enough ride that I’m not at risk of hypothermia or frostbite, just some goose bumps and shivers. Paranoid thoughts creep into my head the closer I get to home. It’s not abnormal for any of the guys, including Hero, to stop by unannounced whenever they please. How the hell would I explain rolling up with his son wrapped around me?

I’ve spent my entire life too busy cleaning up other people’s messes to ever make any of my own, but now that I’ve finally gotten around to my very own fuckup, it’s definitely a big one, even if it was unintentional. It’s like I’m trying to make up for lost time without realizing it. The absurdity of the situation has a laugh rumbling in my chest as I ride around the last corner into my cul-de-sac.

My house isn’t anything fancy, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of either. I bought the two-bedroom ranch as a fixer upper a few years ago, and with a bit of elbow grease and some help from the guys over at Four Bears Construction, I’ve gotten it into decent shape. My driveway is my next project, but it’s either going to cost me a fortune or require me to rent a jackhammer and a cement truck, so I’m still on the fence about which way I want to go with it. It’s passable for now though, albeit with some cracks and potholes that require careful steering as I coast up to the garage.

I pull in and cut the engine. Milo hops off the back with ease.

“You seem pretty comfortable on the back of a Harley.” If I’m fishing for information about guys he might have dated in the past, it’s only out of concern as a friend of Hero’s. If I keep telling myself this shit, will it eventually make it true? Here’s hoping.

He hands my helmet back but leaves the jacket on. He grins at my not-quite-a-question and shakes his head to get his shaggy hair out of his face like he’s a sheepdog badly in need of grooming.

“I’ve been on the back of a few,” he confirms. “I’ve got my motorcycle license too. I left a Yamaha back in Colorado, in storage along with the rest of my stuff that I told my mom she could sell if she could be bothered to.”

“A Yamaha?” I smirk back, picturing him straddling a sporty bike like that, leaning forward with the wind blowing his t-shirt up in the back as he rides.

“Sure.” He ruffles his hair with his hand and his eyes spark with teasing as they meet mine. “I would have considered a Harley, but everyone knows they’re for old men.”

“Old men?” I gasp, clutching my chest dramatically.

Milo cackles, then heads straight for the door without hesitation, like he’s been here a million times and he’s totally at home. I hit the button to close the garage door as I follow him. He’s already kicking off his shoes and hanging my jacket on the hook right inside the door by the time I step in behind him.

“Do you want anything to drink?” I ask after I take off my boots. “I don’t have a ton of options, but I should have a couple of beers in the fridge. Otherwise, I have ginger ale, water…” I head down the hallway towards the kitchen with Milo right behind me, trying to remember what else might be in the refrigerator that I can offer him.

“Coffee?” he asks hopefully.

“At nine o’clock?” I chuckle. “Won’t you be wired all night?”

“Nope,” he says confidently. “If anything, it helps me fall asleep. It’s my ADHD superpower, I guess.”

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