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“You’re lucky you look good walking away or else I would’ve thrown something at your head.” His laughter sounded but he didn’t respond. I didn’t mind; he had a really nice ass. “My bike is totaled,” I reminded him when we got to the garage.

His mouth pulled to one side in a smirk. “Then I guess you better hold on tight.” I should have tossed my helmet at him but the sight of Jag, all big and strong as he started the motorcycle engine, had my body responding and suddenly I couldn’t wait to wrap my arms around him.

I held on tight as he let the engine roar, zooming down the road and weaving through traffic. When he soared around the curves, dipping low to one side, I held on even tighter. His body was hard and his male potency combined with the engine between my thighs, had my pussy pulsing and my nipples tingling beneath my leather jacket. We stopped in a strip mall parking lot and I slid off, feeling that familiar sensation as my legs readjusted to solid ground again. “What are we doing here?”

He pointed to a sign over a shop that said Green Mayhem. “Gotta fix some computer shit real quick.”

“Real quick for real?” He smiled and nodded before disappearing inside, leaving me alone and leaning against the wall while I stared at the bike. I looked around at the dispensary and it looked just like what I’d seen in Colorado and Washington, in a long row of other businesses that sold everything from power tools to prom dresses, yarn and sneakers.

But across the street my gaze drifted over something that gave me pause. A big ass, look-at-me bright red extended cab pickup. Nevada had a lot of fucking trucks, probably more red ones than any other color but I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Something told me I should get closer, get the plate so I could run it later, and my feet were already moving in that direction. If I could just get close enough.

“You should watch the company you keep.” I didn’t recognize the voice, clearly male and angry for some reason. I looked to my right to find a skinny asshole with long blond hair standing about five feet away from me.

Too damn close for my comfort. “And you should mind your own fucking business.” I slid one hand down my hip and around to my back pocket and looped my thumb through the hook. A smile crossed my face as it always did when I got an opportunity to use my knife knuckles.

He took a step forward, his face marred with a dark anger I’d seen before. Men who didn’t like mouthy women. “And you better watch how you speak to me, bitch.” He got in my face and gave me exactly what I was looking for.

A chance to go crazy. The blade was out of my pocket in half a second with my fingers pushed through the holes, the cool metal of the knife pressed against his skin. I had at least two inches on him and pressed my knee between his legs, daring him to move. “You were saying, limp dick?”

His eyes, green I realized, went wide. Big as saucers as they stared into my smiling face.

“You’re crazy.”

“Oh, you have no fucking idea how crazy,” I told him with a wild laugh. “But let’s talk about you, Limp Dick. Who the fuck do you think you are, telling me who I should spend my time with? What business is it of yours?”

“I-it’s not. Get off me you

crazy bitch!” He let out a gurgle when I applied just a bit more pressure that made me laugh.

“You really ought to watch that mouth of yours. Show a little respect before someone washes your mouth out with soap.” I was having too much fun with this clown. “Better yet, maybe someone ought to cut out your tongue.”

“Vivi, what the fuck?” Jag. Here to ruin my fun.

“Crazy bitch,” the blond said again and shoved me since I was distracted. Not too distracted to land a blow to his right cheek that sent him to his knees.

“Next time I’ll bring soap.” I laughed as he scrambled away, looking at me like I’d lost my mind.

“Keep your bitch in check, Jag!”

“Fuck off, Carter, before I let her have her way with you.” Jag’s face was twisted in an anger I’d never seen before, even as he was trying to push me behind him. Protective jerk.

“Watch yourself, bitch.”

I laughed. “Go home and change your shitty drawers, pussy!” Another laugh bubbled up out of me at the absurdness of the past five minutes until I was doubled over and tearing up from laughter.

Jag bent down so we were face to face, one brow arched in a what the fuck expression. “Can’t take you anywhere.”

“Apparently not. That was fun, though.”

“He might be right. You are crazy.”

“Just a teensy bit,” I told him, thumb and forefinger just a few millimeters apart.

He flashed another one of those panty incinerating smiles and hooked an arm around my waist. “Come on, Bruiser. We have an appointment to keep.”

“We do?” The irritating man stayed silent on the way to wherever we were going, not uttering one word until he came to a stop in front of a very nice two-story family home in a gated subdivision.

“Here we are.”

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