Page 4 of Mara
Why am I being such a bitch to this hot guy?
“What are you doing here, Nirvana?”
I laughed and looked at his shirt. It was a black tee that hugged his fucking muscles, of course. Nothing was written there, so I looked over to the helmet next to his leg. It had an intricately drawn white skull on the black material.
“Nothing,Bonehead.” I shrugged while smiling sweetly.
He looked down at his helmet and smiled.
“If you aren’t interested in this shit,” he poked the yogurt with his spork. “Then why are you really here?”
There was genuine curiosity there.
I leaned forward, showing my non-existent cleavage, trying to squish my boobs with my arms.
“Maybe I am trying to trap a pretty tattooed biker into my bed tonight,” I said with a husky laugh.
The man looked at my face. He didn’t look at my breasts displayed out for him, but all the fucking gawking assholes in line were, and I straightened.
“Interesting place to try to catch a biker,” he mused, pulling off his glove to swipe some frozen yogurt onto his finger. I stared at him cautiously as he raised his hand and brought it up to my lips.
“Maybe next time, try a bookstore.”
The cold dessert touched my lips, and I opened my mouth in surprise. His finger slipped inside, coating my tongue with the treat and making me shiver.
I couldn’t pull my gaze from him. He was fucking beautiful. From his dark blonde curls to his brown eyes, he looked like every woman’s and man’s wet dream combined. Add on the bike, and holy fuck, it was a book girl’s absolute heaven. I had read about men who looked like him when I got a break from my endless hours of working, but seeing a man like this in person felt surreal.
Thinking better of it, but ignoring my internal slut shamer, I sighed and looked at this stranger.
“Follow me.”
He looked surprised but kept his mouth shut, kicked the tubby dude out of our way, and practically made everyone part like the sea.
What the fuck are you doing? You aren’t a hoe?
Live a little bitch.
Trying to ignore my internal chatter, I finally found the bathroom and checked the green sign signaling no one was occupying it.
I walked inside the door and looked at the man behind me. He was so gorgeous, everything I ever wanted.
Taking a final steadying breath, I reached out my hand and yanked the biker inside the bathroom with me, then clicked the lock into place.
He studied me from the corner. He was likely seeing my internal battle to do this, but the horny devil was currently murdering the angel on my shoulder.
“Well, do you only use your lips for talking?”
Was I really asking permission from a man who looked like he definitely didn’t bother with permission?
“You don’t want to know my name, Nirvana?”
I shook my head, practically jumping on the man and smashing my lips against his.
He caught me effortlessly, linking his fingers into my curls and yanking my head back to expose my neck.
I slipped down his body as he pinned me against the wall, holding me there, imprisoned in this sinful moment.
“Oh fuck. No, names. No. Don’t tell me your name. You’re my Stranger and I am yours, okay?”
