Page 45 of Beyond the Blue Horizon
She wouldn’t be wrong.
The mayhem I’d caused at the helm of the heavy, ferocious metal back when my crew and I had ridden with the MC back in LA.
Our lives given over to depravity.
The blood on our hands was stained so deep and dark there was no chance of cleansing.
“Motorcycles.” She wheezed it.
“Yeah?” It came out a question, like I didn’t know exactly what she was implying. “You gonna tell me you disapprove?”
Those blue eyes flashed toward me. “They’re dangerous.”
Thought maybe she was directing that sentiment toward me as a person.
I was.
Completely.
And I needed to fuckin’ remember it.
Not give her a casual grin like she was being ridiculous, but I did it, anyway. “Nah, Pipes. You’re missing out. There’s no freer feeling than being on a bike.”
She shook her head. Nervously, her tongue stroked over that plump bottom lip. “I’ll pass.”
Didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me, but I stole toward her, erasing the three feet that separated us, unable to stay away.
I got smacked in the face with that sweet, decadent scent.
Cherries and cream.
I inhaled it. Wanting to suck it down and imbibe everything that she was.
The space between us shivered.
A roil of tension that blazed.
My voice dropped low as I angled down close to her face.
“Who said I was asking you? Only girl sitting on the back of my bike ismine.”
It was a scrape of possession.
Those eyes blew wide, and that tempting mouth parted on a tiny gasp.
I had the sudden, uncontrollable urge to claim it.
The air whirled around us.
A vicious, deadly hurricane.
Pain came bounding in right behind it, a dull blade that cut through my middle.
Hadn’t had a girl on the back of my bike in years, and I’d never fucking have one there again.
Needing to get my damn head clear, I stepped back.
Piper floundered, as if I had been what was holding her up.
