Page 42 of Blue

Closing his eyes, he tightened his hold on the grips of his bike. What the hell was he doing?

The bike shifted to the right. He jerked his head as Blue slid off. Cool air chased her presence, replacing the heat she had once brought to his back. He missed the feel of her. Cutting the engine, he dismounted the bike.

Shaking her head, she ruffled her hair as she paced a few steps away from him. “What is going on?”

Studying her, he stood in silence in the face of her demand. She had every right to make it. He just didn’t have an answer.

“What was that about?” She waved a hand behind her as though gesturing toward the bar.

Placing her hands on her hips, she glared at him as she stepped into the light of a streetlamp.

Well, shit. She looked fucking fantastic. Better than he remembered. The real thing always surpassed memories.

Wait. Focus.

Glancing around, he tried to get his bearings. He’d stopped in a barren part of the town. There wasn’t a strip mall to be seen. A stoplight blinked off in the distance. It had switched to flashing yellow because of the hour.

“He’s a bad guy.” The weak words were all Mooky could muster.

Telling her how much shit Angela had rained down with this cop up his ass wouldn’t help his cause. It mixed with club business. Blue didn’t need to get any deeper than he’d already dragged her.

Yet he’d done just that. He brought her into this and put her on Officer Fuckity Fuck’s radar.

“News flash,” Blue snapped. “You’re not a good guy.”

He jerked his head in her direction. “What?”

What the hell did that mean? He’d been nothing but nice to her. She was the one who said they needed to end their relationship. Not him. He gave her all the space he could. What more did she want from him?

Sure, he wasn’t a great man. He was an outlaw—a rat bastard biker. But never to her. He’d done everything he couldforher, toprotecther. Even when it was misguided.

“You’re a fucking asshole.”

Where the hell did that come from? People didn’t talk to him like that.

He stomped toward her.

Blue held her ground. She didn’t back away. She didn’t shrink. She stood taller with her chin up—almost defying him.

Gods, she was glorious like that. The light illuminated her full figure.

“Say it again,” he demanded as they practically bumped chests.

Glaring down at her with his most biker-like expression, Mooky tightened his jaw.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” Blue shoved at his chest.

He barely moved.

The acrylic nails made her slender fingers longer. Seeing them reminded him of the times she’d used those nails to scratch the hell out of his back. The better days. Their sexier times.

His eye twitched.

The fire in her eyes bore into him, making his dick stiffen. Between the flush in her cheeks and the way her chest heaved with her heavy breaths, anger looked good on her.

“You dragged me out of that bar for what?”

For what? For what? She couldn’t be serious.

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