Page 25 of Enforcing the Rules

Utah looked at me. “Sorry about that. They’re married and like to tease each other. But she wouldn’t steer you wrong. That would violate the girl code, right? Feel any better?”

“I suppose you’re safe.”

He didn’t hesitate in standing, digging some bills out of his pocket, and tossing them on the bar top to pay for my drink. Then he took my hand and led me out the front door.

I balked when he pulled me toward the black Harley backed to the curb. My car was in the other direction.

He turned to me, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“I, um, I think I’d feel better if I followed you.”

His eyes went to it. I guess if he’d seen me at Hansen’s, then he knew which car I’d climbed into. “Okay.”

He waited as I unlocked the door and slid inside, then walked to his bike, pulled his cut from his saddlebag, and slung it on.

He threw a leg over his seat, lifted the heavy bike off its kickstand, and fired it up. There was something about watching him that really turned me on.

When he pulled out, I followed.

I couldn’t help wondering where a biker might live, and what kind of place he might take me to. Would it be a rusty trailer out in the middle of nowhere or a dingy apartment in some crappy neighborhood?

He rode out about four miles south of town, along the river, and I was shocked when he turned into the short drive of a nice townhouse. It didn’t look any different from any of the other well-kept units. I’d driven past them many times in my life, and I knew from its position between the road and the Animas River it had balconies on the back side overlooking the water.

The garage door went up, and Utah coasted inside. I parked on the drive and climbed out. He met me halfway and took my hand. His cooling engine ticked quietly as he led me through the garage to an entrance, hitting a button to lower the garage door.

I followed him through a hall that led to an open floor plan unit with a kitchen on the right with a breakfast bar that overlooked the living room. A fireplace was at an angle in the far corner, but what drew my gaze were the sliders leading to a deck with a fabulous view of the river.

Utah let go of my hand, and I moved to the view. It was dark, but lights lit a walking path below, and a full moon glimmered off the rushing waters.

I opened the slider and stepped outside. The babbling sounds of the water were like music. It was a gentle, soothing, lulling sound.

The heat of Utah’s chest pressed to my back and sank through my shirt to my skin.

“I could definitely drift off listening to that every night,” I whispered.

His lips pressed against my temple, then trailed down to my jaw. His deep voice murmured in my ear. “Don’t plan on letting you get much sleep tonight, pretty girl.”

I smiled and leaned into him.

His hands closed over my upper arms, and I trembled. Would he be gentle? Rough? Had I made a mistake in coming here? A thousand doubts clouded my mind. Then he turned me, cupped my face, and dipped his forehead to mine. “You nervous?

I lifted my eyes to his and found real concern in their depths.

I shook my head, but it was a lie, and I think he knew it. I wanted to be the kind of woman he’d take on his bike—brave, daring, exciting.

I pressed my palms to his chest, and his scent enveloped me. It was part leather and wind from the road, part some intoxicating scent. Perhaps his bodywash. I breathed it in, moving closer to skate my nose along his neck. I let my tongue slip out to trail along the same path and heard him groan. I felt that moan vibrate his chest under my palms.

Suddenly, he stepped back.

He stood there, waiting. And then it dawned on me what he reminded me of. He looked like a caged, hungry animal just waiting for me to be brave enough to set him free.

Was I that brave?

I licked my lips, and my teeth sank into my bottom lip.

His eyes dropped to it.

“I’ve been imagining those lush sexy lips of your taking my cock since we first met. Swear to God, I must be obsessed with you.”

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