Page 142 of Biker In My Bed


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“You know nothing about me other than you rescued me last night.” I chuckle.

“True,” he admits, reaching for a glass in front of him. Amber liquid sloshes inside it as he draws it to his lips. “I’d like to change that. Tell me about yourself, Charlotte.”

“There’s not much to tell.” I shrug.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s true.”

He shakes his head at me. “You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”

“Not really,” I admit. Terrance’s conditioning is still strong in me. To him, I was a second-class citizen and a waste of air not worth anything other than being arm candy to be displayed at the proper time and to keep up appearances of Terrance’s family-man persona.

“Let’s start with something simple. Where are you from?”

“California.”

“Figures.” He chuckles. “Me too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I live in the Los Angeles foothills. You?”

“San Simeon. What brings you to Vegas?”

“Work,” he answers. “A sort of business trip. You?”

“Girl time with Minny, though she’s here for a work conference.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard. What else?”

“I have a cat.” I shrug. I could mention my divorce, but what’s the point? The last thing I need is to have to explain how hellish the last seven years of my life have been. How do you explain to someone that kind of life? I’ve barely been able to explain it to my therapist.

“Hungry?” he asks, diverting me from thinking of my divorce. Part of me sighs in relief that he isn’t pressing me further.

Thor grabs the empty plate in front of me and spoons food from the plates before us onto it before handing it back to me. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I ordered from the small plates menu.”

“This looks delicious, but I was expecting we’d go downstairs to one of the restaurants. My treat, of course, considering what you did for us.”

“After what happened last night, I thought an evening away from the crowd downstairs might be a better option, and it’s my treat,” he declares.

“This is so extravagant, though. It’s too much.”

“It’s nothing really. A friend of mine knows the chef. He pulled a few strings for me.”

“A few strings, huh? You make it sound so easy.”

Thor chuckles, his deep voice rumbling through the air. “Well, I have my ways of getting what I want,” he says, his eyes locking with mine. The playful glint in his gaze sends a shiver down my spine, stirring a desire I never knew existed.

He fills his plate and begins to eat. I take a few bites, the flavors exploding in my mouth to the point that I must stifle a moan. It takes everything I have to not devour it all like a starving beast in front of him.

“Is Thor your real name?”

“It’s not,” he admits. “It’s my road name.”

“Road name? Are you in some kind of motorcycle club or something?”

“Yes, I am,” Thor confirms, his voice carrying a hint of mystery. He takes a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m a member of the Heaven’s Rejects Motorcycle Club.”

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