Page 69 of Playboy’s Purgatory

I hold the jacket up for her and she slides it on before I tug it into place. Once I get the helmet on her, I step back and snap a quick picture.

“So Vanessa can see,” I tell Lara when she arches an eyebrow in question.

Her entire face softens and, fuck, it does something strange to me.

Something permanent.

Like a shift.

A realignment.

The moment I’m on the back of my bike; she slides her arms around my waist. It feels so fucking right.

I fire up my bike and yell over the roar of my engine, “Keep holdin’ on.”

Starting slow isn’t easy for me, but I do it. For her.

Her grip tightens at first, but as we head toward the mountains for a short ride, I feel her body relax. The moment she melts into me; I open it up.

The wind washes over us and the road stretches ahead.

My woman is on the back of my bike. She’s wrapped around me like she’ll never let go.

Maybe this isn’t purgatory, maybe it’s a chance at an honest start.

CHAPTER 17

LARA

I’m almost reluctant when we pull up in front of Bunz Out. I enjoyed riding on the back of Playboy’s bike far too much. While I was absolutely terrified at first, the feeling quickly melted into a rush of freedom. If Vanessa feels the same way about it, I’m not going to be able to keep her off a damn bike.

She’ll be relentless. And she’ll spend her time negotiating getting rides with more than half the brothers of the SOMC. I hope they’re ready to be added to her ride roster because I can already hear her asking me for a calendar so she can keep everything straight.

For a moment, we just idle behind my bakery. Neither of us say anything. I squeeze his waist and then let go. He cuts the motor just as I climb off and awkwardly unbuckle the helmet.

“That was fun,” I gush. “The motorcycle part,” I’m quick to add, “not the drama at the bar. My nights out don’t usually get that exciting.”

“You handled yourself really well,” Playboy praises me with a look of appreciation on his face. “I’m glad you liked riding. Can I take you out again sometime?”

I feel my cheeks heat and look away. Figuring deflection is the best course of action, I clear my throat and tease, “I’m not sure you’ll get the chance. If Vanessa enjoyed her ride with Rumble half as much as I did, she’s going to be incorrigible. Expect everyone to get roped in and for her to treat the clubhouse like a stable to feed her riding addiction.”

The chuckle that comes out of him is a low rumble. My nipples pebble into hard peaks from hearing the sound.

Sudden heat surges through me and it makes me reckless. “Do you want to come up?”

When the words leave my mouth, Playboy freezes in place. The second stretch into some measure of time I’ve never experienced before—agonizingly endless.

Holy shit, he’s not going to say yes. He’s about to turn me down.

It’s the regret in his eyes as he looks at me. I can see it so damn clearly. Regret and hesitation.

He doesn’t want me.

My heart clenches at the realization and I have to shut my eyes for a moment to get myself under control. Controlling my breathing takes everything in me for about thirty seconds.

Then my eyes open again and I plaster a fake smile on my face. “Never mind. It’s been a long day, and I need to call Rumble so he can bring Vanessa home.”

I take a step back and Playboy is off his bike and in my personal space before I know he’s even moving. How does a man his size move so fucking fast?