Page 8 of Slow Ride

Kason might have been asshole enough to say it if she’d been one of those people who was impressed by his fame.A woman he knew would get off on telling her friends she’d fucked him as much as she did on how well he pleasured her.

“I brought a modified mid-nineties Ducati Diavel with me today.I wanted to see about customizing it further.Increasing the horsepower, dropping the handlebars, maybe changing out the rims and tires.Basically, whatever the mechanics think would enhance its performance or its style.”If he was doomed to strike out with the gorgeous shop assistant, he at least tried to focus on his excitement over the bike.

That’s what his therapist had recommended, anyway.That he concentrate on the things that sparked joy in him instead of his disappointments or his anxiety about losing the fame and fortune he’d amassed.Little did she know that one of the things he craved most was at the root of his fears.

Don’t think about that.

Instead he studied the fine bones in the woman’s long fingers as she took notes to show her boss.They matched the rest of her, tall and thin.She didn’t look like the women he usually found himself attracted to—or sleeping with, rather, since he hadn’t had to pursue a woman in forever.For one, she wasn’t wearing makeup.Her pale hair was naturally glossy and framed her gorgeous face where it hung straight and unstyled.The T-shirt and ripped jeans she wore weren’t curve-hugging women’s cuts.Even the boxy clothes couldn’t hide her feminine appeal, however.She was raw and honest, daring him to take her as she was.And he wanted to, desperately.He usually picked from the fans who threw themselves at him simply because of the image he portrayed when he was onstage or because they thought they knew him after watching interviews he’d done.

This woman was something completely different.Kason found himself craving a new flavor.Wasn’t that part of what his whole crisis had been about?Maybe he could find less risky ways to satisfy his desires.

Before he could think of something clever to say, to make the woman look up with her bright blue eyes and maybe laugh or talk to him about something more personal than motorcycles, she finished writing and asked, “Could you leave the bike here for a few hours so Quinn—our head mechanic—can do a thorough evaluation of what’s already been done to your ride, some research about what’s possible, and brainstorm new ideas no one’s tried yet?He’ll put together his recommendations along with some sketches, if that’s okay.”

“Sure, that’s fine.”Kason tried not to sound too sleazy when he said, “I’ll be in town until the end of the week.After that we’ll have to work things out over email until it’s ready for pickup.”

“Don’t you want to wait for an estimate before deciding to go ahead with the work?I’ll be honest, our rates are about ten percent higher than industry average due to the specialized experience of our team.Plus we mandate a certain level of quality in terms of the brands of components we install, in order to ensure you get the best we can deliver.You won’t find bargain basement price here, but you will get more than your money’s worth, I can promise you that.”The woman impressed him with her knowledge and her directness.It wasn’t often someone was that honest with him.

It was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

“Don’t worry, I can afford it,” he promised, unsure if he was irritated that she didn’t know it or grateful that for the first time in a long time, he was being treated like a normal human being.He’d nearly forgotten what that felt like.“And I’ve heard your guys know what they’re doing.So I want to see for myself.Let’s consider this a test of their skills.If they pass, I have other bikes I have big plans for.”

Now why the hell would she scowl at that?It was supposed to be a compliment and a promise.

The faux engine revved again as Van joined them in the shop.His friend might blow his cover if he kept standing there, in the corner, with his arms crossed and his dark glasses still in place.He looked every bit like a bodyguard instead of some random guy’s ride home.

That didn’t stop the receptionist from blasting him.“Oh, you’ll see.Hot Rides is the best at whatwedo, even if not all of us who work on the bikes have dicks.”

Oh shit.

From behind him, Van was attempting to disguise his laughter with a fit of coughing every bit as fake as the mini-engine door chime.That was okay, Kason deserved to be embarrassed.

He’d earned this extra-fine woman’s annoyance.

He hoped there was some way he could make it up to her.Because more than her striking looks, he liked her fire and her take-no-shit attitude.Imagining her working on his motorcycle guaranteed it would become the new favorite in his collection.

Riding usually made him hard.The next time he climbed on the Ducati would be no exception.

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