Page 67 of Beware of Dog

“Uh-oh,” he said, but was clearly biting back a grin.

She cocked her hips for good measure. “Do you honestly believe your cock has the power to keep me from sitting on the back of a motorcycle today?”

“Uh…yeah.”

“Oh, you’re an asshole.”

“You knew that before youbegged meto fuck you.”

“I didn’t beg.”

“Oh, there was lots of begging. And for the record, I’m trying to be a gentleman, here. You were a virgin, and we hooked uptwiceyesterday, and you’re gonna tell me you’re not crazy-sore?”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation on a sidewalk.”

She watched him war with, and conquer, his laughter.

Her face was hot, but her own laughter was bubbling in her chest. Arguing with Shep wasfun. It was one of her favorite things in the world.

“Put your arm down, you look stupid,” she told him.

He did put it down, and stepped up toe-to-toe with her. “We wouldn’t have to have this conversation at all if you weren’t so stubborn.” His jaw was set, his eyes were dancing. He loved this, too.

He lovedher, she remembered, with a sudden, wonderful drop in her stomach. He’d told her so.

“Shep, come on. Are you going to let me take the cab by myself to school?”

“No,” he said, with an impliedduh.

“Well, what sense does it make for you to take a cab to NYU, and a cab back here, and then take your bike to run your errands? It doesn’t. Let’s just take the bike now, you can drop me off, and go do your own thing after.”

He frowned. “You’re—”

“Sore, yes, admittedly, but I can handle it. If not, we’ll get a cab then.”

His frown deepened. “You take the Tylenol I left out this morning?”

“Yes, doctor, like a good little patient.”

He huffed a sigh through his nose, but tipped his head and turned for the parking garage. “Alright. I tried.”

He got on the Harley, she buckled her helmet, and things were fine until she swung her leg over. “Ah!” She froze, hand gripped tight on his shoulder.

Shep twisted his head around, unamused. “I told you!”

“No, no, I’m fine, I’m fine.” And she was. Technically. She hadn’t been careful, and the initial impact had been…not good. But once she got her feet up on the pegs, and tilted her pelvis back, the first burst of pain tapered off into somethingmanageable. It wasn’t an injury, more like pressing on a bruise. And not even a bad bruise!

She slid her arms around his waist. “I’m good, let’s go.”

“I’m gonna say one more time,” he said. “That I warned you.”

“Yeah, you did, good job,let’s go.”

“Fine, brat.” He started the bike.

Physically, it was the least comfortable ride of her life. But she was snugged up against Shep’s back, and she could tell that he was taking all the turns and stops and starts far more carefully than normal. The cold wind stung her face, and she ducked behind his shoulder and breathed in the old leather of his cut, its top rocker patch rough against her cheek, and she smiled more than she winced.

He knew without direction which building she needed to get to on campus—stalker, she thought lovingly—and pulled right up to the curb, five feet from the door that would lead her to her first class. He killed the engine when he parked, which meant he heard her little hiss as she dismounted. His face, beneath his shades, was unimpressed.

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