by Renee Rose
“I teach kindergarten. Which reminds me, I should get home. It’s a school night.”
“Did you leave your car in the plaza? Or do you want me to take you home?”
She nibbles her lip. I think the stop made her nervous. Which is good. She shouldn’t just hop on the back of a random guy’s motorcycle and ride around town with him. Still, I hate the thought of her being afraid of me.
“Home, please.”
“Sure. Give me the address.” The least I can do is see her safely home.
I savor each second of the ride to her condo north of Taos. She squeezes me closer every time I lean into a turn. I take the final miles slower, easing into each turn, enjoying the night-painted landscape instead of speeding by. The shadows and midnight blue.
I pull up to her door and plant my feet to steady my bike but stay facing forward, shoulders rigid. This wasn’t a date—it was a rescue op. My job was to get the package to her place. Not to walk her to the door. Definitely not to lean down to savor that delicious scent before she goes inside.
For a moment, Sadie doesn’t move. She’s still holding me as if reluctant to disentangle herself. I grit my teeth and try not to think how easily she could slide her hand down my stomach, into my jeans. My cock jerks at the thought.
Finally, she slips off the bike. I lose the battle with myself and turn my head slightly to fill my senses with her vanilla scent.
“Thanks for the ride,” she says. “And, um, everything.” She removes my helmet and hands it to me. I swap her purse for it. She slings her bag over her shoulder but still makes no move to go.
“Are you going to be in town tomorrow for Plaza Live?” she asks after a moment of fidgeting. “The Flying Oysters are playing at six. They mostly do covers, but they’re pretty good.”
“Sure,” I say, even though I had no intention of attending any Plaza Live ever. But it seems I’m incapable of denying Sadie anything she asks of me. My pack will laugh their heads off if they find out. But there’s no way I’m missing a chance to see Sadie again. Not because I”m going to try anything with her. Just to make sure she’s safe from Bonehead. “I’ll be there.”
“Okay. Night, Deke.” She’s gazing at me, her face upturned.
Don’t touch her. Don’t touch her. Definitely don’t kiss her.
I can’t stop myself from reaching out, catching the back of her neck and drawing her close. Her vanilla scent washes over me, and I breathe it in like I just got out of prison, and this is my first breath of fresh air in a decade.
I muster some control and only press my lips to her forehead, where her hair’s mussed and a bit damp from the helmet. I don’t let myself taste her lips. And I don't get off the bike. If I dismount, there’s no turning back.
After a moment, I let her go.
She backs up uncertainly, her pretty lips parted.
“Night, Sadie.”
I don’t ride off immediately. I wait until she’s inside. She disappears, and the door lock clicks—my supernatural hearing won’t let me miss a sound. What I don’t hear is her moving away from the door, getting on with her night. The filmy white curtain in the window trembles a little, like she just twitched it aside. She’s watching me.
I turn my bike back on and roll away. I still feel her silky skin under my lips. My wolf doesn’t like me riding away. The instinct to turn the bike around and drive back nearly chokes me.
My wolf wants Sadie. He wants me to get her under me, tonight. He wants me to mark her as my own. Keep her.
But that’s not possible. Because he’s not fucking safe. Marking a human is dangerous under the best of conditions, and my wolf? He doesn’t know restraint.
So I’ll be staying the fuck away from Sadie Diaz. Because there’s never been a human I needed to protect more.
Sadie
Despite the drinks and the night air, I’m not sleepy at all after Deke drops me off. I put the jackalope doll by the front door and flitter about my one-bedroom apartment organizing myself for the morning.
I’m all fluttery and excited. Also freaking out.
I’ve never done anything so reckless in my life. I am the type who is too trusting of strangers—I’ve been told that by my dad and my friends at least fifty-seven times. But I don’t usually go around actively soliciting strange men. Or engaging in questionable activities like getting on the back of a motorcycle with one.
But my instincts told me he could be trusted.
And they were right! I was perfectly safe the whole time. I wore a helmet. He took me straight home when I asked him to, and he didn’t even try anything with me—a fact I find myself slightly disappointed over. He wasn’t the man-whore Charlie warned me of. He only kissed my forehead! Maybe he’s not interested, and that’s fine. I still loved every second of it.
Maybe I’m the adrenaline junkie because I’m all amped up now at my wild behavior. I have to say, it felt great to pretend I might date a guy like Deke. A big, bad, motorcycle-military guy. I let my wild out a little bit tonight. It felt rebellious and fun. I felt in charge of my own destiny for the first time in… I don’t know how long.
Maybe since my mom left.
I flop back on my bed, and a puff of laughter comes from my lips.
When my phone buzzes with a text, I snatch it up. The twisted sick anticipation of finding another text from Scott is gone, replaced by anger.
This guy needs to leave me alone.
Sure enough, it’s from Scott. Sadie, I’m really worried about you. That guy you were with tonight is trouble.
Instead of ignoring the text like I usually do, this time I answer. Stop texting me. I don’t ever want to hear from you again. It’s over.
There. I feel like I said that before, but I was being Sweet Sadie then. Now, I don’t think I could be more clear.
Turns out standing up for myself feels good.
I roll onto my side, my thoughts slipping back to Deke. Of course, I wouldn’t really date a guy like him. He wouldn’t be interested in someone like me, for one thing.
And I doubt we have anything at all in common.
Still, the memory of his huge hand cupping my nape or the way he caged me in against the building in the alleyway—not like he was trapping me. More like he was shielding me—flit through my mind producing those butterflies in my belly.
What would it be like to run my hands over that chiseled body? To feel the power of his massive body over mine? Or under mine?
I slip my fingers between my legs and moan softly when they make contact. I pretend my fingers are Deke’s giant ones. How would he touch me? Would he be rough? Or gentle?
Somehow I’m sure he’d be gentle. A big guy like him would’ve learned restraint with a woman. I bet he’d know exactly how to touch me. I’ll bet he wouldn’t critique my performance the way Scott used to.
Ugh. I don’t want to think of Scott ever again.
Maybe he’s what I need to move on. I’m sure he’s not looking for a girlfriend. Especially not with someone like me. And we wouldn’t work anyway—I mean, my dad would never accept a guy like him for me.
But maybe we could hook up. A wild fling to help me get back into the dating scene.
I roll over to my belly, my fingers still working between my legs. The idea has me all hot and bothered. I bite my pillow and wriggle my hips over my hand.
I’m not even embarrassed when I croak, “Deke!” into the bedcovers when I come.
Chapter 3
Sadie
I go to the plaza early the next evening, before the music has even started. I stake out one of the tables and set down the plastic-covered platter of motorcycle-shaped sugar cookies I baked for Deke as a thank you. But I’m too nervous to sit. I stand behind the chair, shifting from foot to foot with my filmy skirt swirling around my legs. I’m all dressed up today in a yellow cotton sundress and stylish suede booties. As always, I brought my white cardigan in case it gets cold, but with the dress’ deep v-neck and flirty hem, my outfit is on the risque
side of “kindergarten teacher chic.” Especially because I’m wearing the large hoop earrings Tabitha gave me. “Sexy and I know it” earrings, she calls them.
The band sets up, plugging things in and testing amps. One of the guitarists strums his electric bass, and the amp barks then squeals. A few rowdy tourists on the restaurant’s patio holler back, but the crowd around the small stage and on the lawn starts to grow. People spread blankets out and open containers of food.
Deke isn’t here yet, but I didn’t think he’d get here early. I honestly don't know if he’ll show up at all. Surely he has more important things to do than hang out in the plaza with me. I looked up Black Wolf Security online, but there’s almost nothing about it. Their website is a black page with their wolf logo and nothing else. I bet Deke made it. It is so him.
The business license is registered to a PO Box in Taos. I’m tempted to ask Charlie to look into it, but then she’ll know, and for now, I want to keep Deke my dirty little secret. Not that we’ve done anything dirty.
Unfortunately.
Yet.
When the music finally starts, I take a seat and check my phone. Scott did text me today but only twice. Are you seriously seeing that guy? he asked around midday. I waited until my bathroom break to text back my one word reply. “Yes.” Technically, I am seeing Deke. Hopefully, he’ll show up for the band like he said.
Scott’s reply made my stomach clench. What would your father say? He always knew how to stick the knife in.
I tuck my phone away. Screw him. Screw them both. I don’t want to think about what my father would say. Dad approved of Scott, no question. Whenever we went out to dinner together, always at the nicest restaurants in Taos, the two of them hogged the conversation, talking over me. I always suspected Scott dated me because my father’s on the town council and well-connected. I didn’t think it was the main reason, but looking back, I’m not so sure. Scott never seemed satisfied dating me. His cheating on me drove that home.
Is Deke the sort of guy who cheats? He’s so hot, with epic levels of masculine bad-assery. I can’t imagine him meeting a heterosexual woman who didn’t swoon over him and offer up her panties in tribute.
But the way he looked at me, the intensity in his eyes...it made me feel like the only woman in the world.
I’m probably wrong. Deke’s probably a player. But I’m willing to be another notch on his bedpost. That motorcycle ride is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in a long time. Maybe ever.
No—not happened to me.
I made it happen. I think that’s half the excitement there.
The other half is definitely the extremely fit biker who drove it.
Up on stage, the band is rocking out. The sun is setting, and there’s a good crowd for a Thursday night.
“Is this seat taken?” a woman asks me, her fingers already curling on the seat’s back, ready to carry it away. She has long pink fingernails, tight jeans and a low cut black top. Why didn’t I wear an outfit like that? She looks more like a biker babe than I ever will.
“Yes, it’s taken,” I tell her, jealousy making my voice sharp. She rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she struts away. I can almost hear her thoughts about me, but I don’t care. It’s nice to not be nice all the time.
“He’ll show up,” I whisper to myself. I’m sitting with my legs crossed primly at the ankle, my hands folded in my lap like a good little kindergarten teacher. My hair is tied back with a bow, for frick’s sake.
I rise and tug off the bow, shaking out my hair. That’s when I sense him. The hairs rise on the back of my neck, and the scent of motor oil and leather hits me.
I turn and scan the crowd but don’t see Deke at first. But I know he’s here.
And then he appears, stepping out of the shadows and striding towards me. There’s a group of sexy snow bunny types standing in his path. They poke each other and stare at Deke, wide-eyed. But he doesn’t even glance at them as he heads straight toward me. He’s got that intense look again, the one that makes me shiver. I feel a little like I’m being hunted.
“Babe.” He uses the word to convey whole sentences. I just have to decipher what they mean. He strolls right up to me. For a big guy, he moves with grace, prowling like a panther. He’s wearing the same sort of outfit he wore before, dark jeans and a soft white t-shirt that clings to his abs. Big motorcycle boots.
My mouth waters.
He’s so gosh darn hot. And I baked him cookies. What was I thinking?
“Deke. You came.” I step in front of the table, hoping he won’t see the cookie tray.
Of course, he spots it immediately. “What are these?” He reaches around me and touches the plastic.
“Um, just a little thank you. You know, for yesterday.”
“You baked me cookies?”
“Yes.”
“Babe,” he says again and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thank you.” He doesn’t smile, but his dark gaze smolders. Up close, he’s overwhelmingly sexy. My thighs clench, and I stifle a whimper.
“It’s nothing.” I turn away and fiddle with the plastic wrap around the cookie tray. “I owed you.”
“Yeah?” He cocks his head to the side, still totally focused on me. The young women still gawk at Deke, and he hasn’t even noticed.
I swallow and step closer, so I don’t have to shout over the music. “For last night. You’re my hero.”
His forehead creases. “I am not a hero.”
I want to argue, but I realize I would sound foolish. I obviously made last night into a bigger deal than it is to him.
“Well, I still owe you.” I summon my bravery and put my hand on his chest.
He raises a dark brow. “Oh yeah? You owe me?” There’s a suggestive purr to his voice.
Heat shoots between my legs. “If you ever need me to be your fake girlfriend, let me know,” I say, half joking. As if he couldn’t snap his fingers and get any sort of woman to do anything he wanted.
“Babe.” He hits me with that intense stare of his—so hot it could burn off all my clothes. His lips twitch like he thinks I’m cute. Then he leans close and whispers, “With me, you wouldn’t be faking anything.” His voice is deep and rich with the pure promise of sex.
I flush. Goosebumps break out all over my body.
The song the band is playing abruptly ends. The crowd sends up a half-hearted cheer. Deke straightens, and I take in his expression. He looks dead serious now.
I turn and clap for the band, but I can feel Deke still focused on me.
“Thank you,” the lead guitarist shouts into the microphone. “We’re the Flying Oysters. This is for all the lovebirds out there.”
And they start playing “Undisclosed Desires” by Muse. One of my favorite songs. Not a typical love song although I think it’s sexy.
I lick my lips, and Deke’s gaze drops to my mouth. “I love this song,” I tell him. He nods slowly. His eyes glitter green in the low light, flashing like a cat’s. I lean forward to ask him about it when he takes my hand and abruptly leads me away from the table.
I follow without question, every nerve on fire. He pulls me along behind him, away from the crowd, out of the plaza, into an alleyway full of shadows. It’s dark and private, and I have no idea what’s going on, but just like last night, none of my stranger danger alarms go off. I’m relaxed, content to be with him.
“What are we doing here?”
He turns, his big body herding me backwards until I’m caged between him and the wall.
“Deke?” I ask, suddenly breathless.
“I’m collecting that favor.” His nose is close enough to touch mine.
A thrum begins between my legs.
With a growl, he pins my hips with his. He leans his forearm on the wall above my head, his huge biceps blocking out all light. His right hand cups my cheek. I open my mouth, and his face descends.
He kisses me right there in the alley. My toes curl in my boots. The wall at my back is cold, but
the heat from Deke’s body warms me through and through.
He groans and pulls his head back but keeps me pinned, his eyes flashing weirdly in the dark. “This is what I want—your kiss. This is all I want.” He kisses me again.
I surge up against him, grabbing handfuls of his soft t-shirt as if I could pull him into my body. He angles his head, and his tongue slips into my mouth. I moan.
He tears his mouth from mine and backs away, his chest heaving. The place between my legs is liquid, aching. I lean against the adobe brick wall, gasping. I was seconds away from coming from his tongue fucking my mouth.
“Deke,” I whisper.
“Sadie.” He touches my lip with a finger. When he drops his hand I realize he’s shaking.
He steps away, half turning. “I’m sorry.” His voice is hoarse and deep. “I shouldn’t do this.”
“No, you should.” I blurt. “You very much should.” I would raise my skirt for him right here in the alley.
“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair. He’s about to say something else, when the roar of a motorcycle cuts through the air.
“Fuck,” Deke shouts, and he steps away as a man on a bike appears at the mouth of the alley. Deke’s big body blocks most of my view. I don’t know what’s happening.
The big biker is wearing one of those skull cap type helmets that doesn’t cover your face or offer any real protection. His face looks familiar, like he might be one of the bikers with Deke yesterday, but I can’t be sure. He’s got blond hair, and his eyes flash in the dark like Deke’s do. “I thought I’d find you here,” he says to Deke.
“What the fuck do you want?” Deke growls back.
“Rafe wants to see you.”
Deke swears some more.
“What’s going on?” I ask, and Deke spins to face me. His shoulders are tense, and he somehow looks bigger than before.
“I shouldn’t have done this,” he tells me, and my heart plummets to my feet.
“What?” I whisper.
