Page 9 of The Biker's Forbidden Craving

“Well, that’s part of the question, right? I need the whole thing. Why did you take it?”

“Because it reminded me of you… and I wanted to be reminded of you. It was stupid, and I was young. I already said this.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me what you did with the jacket. Surely you didn’t take it to hang it in your closet. I never saw you wearing it.”

“I did. I wore it… at home.”

He narrows his gaze. “Okay. Just to be clear, you took my jacket to wear at home because you had a little crush, but that’s over now?”

“Yeah.” I shrug and roll back onto my back. Cards stick to my thighs, but I ignore them. “So, there ya go. Should we play another hand? This time, I’m betting money. Not—”

“No way. You still owe me a random truth, or you take the tickles. There’s no way around it.”

“The truth about what? I held up my side of the bet. I told you what I did with the jacket.”

“Yeah, and now you’re taking advantage.”

“I’m not saying jack shit until you tell me something about you first, like what happened to that girl you were seeing in Texas. I thought you guys were getting close?”

He shakes his head and lays next to me, resting his head in his inked-up hand. “You know how it goes. Women are all the same.”

“Are we now?”

He rolls his eyes to the side and smiles. “I guess you’re not all the same, but that one was demanding. She was ready to move herself in two weeks after we met.”

“She was gorgeous. Maybe you should’ve let her.”

“She wasn’t really my type.”

“If she isn’t your type, who is?”

He scrubs his hand against the back of his neck and looks away. “There’s this one girl that I can’t get out of my head.”

My heart falls to the ground with a thud so heavy I’m pretty sure Ghost can hear it in the next room. “Who is she?”

“It doesn’t matter. Could never make it work, anyway.” He sits up and straightens his T-shirt. “Enough about me. You lost, and somehow you’ve lost with penalty, so… you have another truth coming at you.”

My brows narrow at the ridiculous thought process. “I’m not sure that’s how this works. I need to hear more about this girl that’s stuck in your head. Is she hot? What does she do? Why can’t you have her?”

I’m gutted by the fact that he looks at other women or has thoughts about anyone other than me.Gutted!That said, there’s a sick, depraved part of me that needs to know who this woman is. Probably so I can compare myself to her for the rest of eternity. I mean, that’s the next logical step, right?

“I told you nothing can come of it, so it doesn't matter.”

“So, what harm does it do to tell me? I want to know. Does she still live in Texas? Is she a criminal too? You two have a lot in common? Is she Catwoman to your Batman? I think that could work.” I’m joking about the feelings they have, but in reality, I don’t think I can handle this. I should stop asking. I don’t wantto know that he’s into some tight waisted woman with agile jumping skills. That might be more torture than my heart can handle.

“Nope. I told you something about myself. Now it’s your turn.”

“You told me a half a truth. That doesn’t count.”

“It counts.” He exhales slowly and rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Our arms touch and brush against one another. He’s there for a solid minute before he rolls back again, his gaze on mine, studying me as though he’s about to make a human lie detector out of himself.

“What are you doing?” I laugh, still buzzed from the beer. “You know I’m not one of your kills, right? You can’t look straight through me for answers like you do those guys.”

His expression remains unreadable. No smile or flicker of emotion. He just stares, searching me for an answer. “Are you really over me?”

“What?”

“The crush. Have you really gotten over me? You can’t lie. I can tell if you’re lying.”

---