“Get the fuck on.” He turned toward his two friends. “Let’s ride.”
I mounted his bike, heart pounding in my chest, and waited, too afraid to check to see where Dane’s bodyguard had gone. Was I exchanging one bad situation for another? Right then I didn’t care. At least with the biker I had a chance of getting away from there. We were in a small, northern town, so my options were few and far between.
Movement out of the corner of my eye pulled my gaze to the other two men. They peered at me with quiet curiosity, yet didn’t say anything. As they turned their backs to me to mount their bikes I saw the Phantom Riders MC logo stitched across their shoulders. In the next instant my temporary savior was throwing his long, muscular leg over his seat in front of me and planting his butt snug against my pussy.
“You ever ride?” he growled over his shoulder.
I shook my head before realizing that he couldn’t see it. “No.”
I felt him tense. “You’ve never fucking rode and you were going to steal my bike?”
He waited a second, and I knew that he was expecting a response. “I was desperate,” I said lamely.
Without warning he reached behind, grabbed my hands and pulled my arms around his waist. “I hope you’re fucking desperate enough,” he grumbled in a deep voice, turning the key in the ignition. “Hold on tight.”
He barely got the words out before we were taking off.