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Even the stifling Florida humidity was a thousand times better.
He held his hand out to her. “C’mon, party animal, my bike is this way.”
“Your bike?”
“Yep. Only drive a cage when I absolutely have to.”
“I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”
“Glad to be your first.” He winked, waiting with his hand extended.
She hesitated. Hand-holding was a boyfriend activity, wasn’t it? She’d held Aaron’s hand all those years ago, but no one else’s, ever.
It’s just a hand.
She’d slept with the man for crying out loud. Why was she making such a big deal about holding his hand for a short walk across a parking lot?
Because it felt big—it felt like trust.
Terrifying.
Brooke’s words about Curly flashed through her mind.
He doesn’t let any opportunity for joy pass him by.
She pasted on a smile and grabbed his hand. “Let’s do it.”
She could do it. She could snatch happiness and protect herself at the same time.
No problem.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JINX BELIEVED SHE wasn’t wasted because she clearly hadn’t had enough to get out of her own head. He fought for patience at the way she stared at his hand as though it were a hot poker ready to burn her. He wasn’t the type to go slow and think through every move. That he didn’t just grab her hand and tow her to the bike spoke to a depth of feeling and respect he wasn’t accustomed to.
And one he refused to analyze.
Eventually, she settled her smaller hand in his, and he fought back a cheer of victory. Another step toward what? What the hell did he think they were inching toward? A relationship? A life together?
Hell no.
Not now, not ever.
Jinx wanted to loosen her up, give her some fun, and enjoy the hell out of it too.
Sex and fun.
The way he lived his life.
When they reached his bike, he grabbed his dome off the handlebars and plopped it on her head. It wobbled a bit, but he cinched it as tight as possible. It’d do for the ride to his house. Maybe he’d pick one up for her next time he hit the Harley shop.
“What about you?” she asked, pointing to his head.
“I’m good.”
Harper frowned. “What if we crash? You need a helmet too. I’ll just take an Uber.”
He snorted. “First of all, it’s a dome, not a helmet. I’m not a ten-year-old riding a six-speed.”
Giggling, Harper shrugged. “My bad.”
“Second, I ride as well as I fuck. We are not going to crash, okay?”
She hummed. “Well, if you ride like you fuck, I guess it’s good that I have the helm… uh… dome since now I gotta worry about falling off the bike while I’m coming.”
His jaw dropped, but no words came out. Never would anyone believe it was possible to render him speechless, but Harper had just fucking done it. Shit, maybe she was wasted.
“I’m sorry, but did you just make a raunchy-ass joke, Prickles?”
Her laugh made him so happy. So did the pink blush on her cheeks. “Shut up. I can make jokes.”
“Fuck, you’re pretty when you’re smiling and laughing.” He couldn’t help himself and wound an arm around her and pulled her close. Her hands went to his chest, resting them on him, but she didn’t push or pull. “Gimme those lips.”
She rose on her tiptoes, meeting him halfway with a slow and exploratory kiss. She tasted of tequila and lime—tropical and intoxicating—and his cock hardened the second their tongues met.
She trailed her hands down his torso and then under his shirt in a move that shocked him. He hissed at the first contact of those curious fingers on his skin. Now that his dick knew how hot and tight she was, he struggled to keep from yanking her dress up and bending her over his bike right there in the parking lot. But he refused to treat her like an easy-come, easy-go club whore.
“Come home with me,” he murmured against her lips.
She stiffened and met his gaze. With his dome on and the uncertainty in her eyes, she was a mix of hot as hell and vulnerable.
“Okay.”
“What?” He blinked. As soon as he posed the question, he started making a list of arguments to persuade her, but it wasn’t necessary.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she murmured. “Take me to your home, Jinx.”
“Fuck yes.” Riding home with his dick as hard as it was would be the ultimate misery, but it would be well worth it in the end. “Let’s go, baby.”
He helped her on the back of his bike, then swung his leg over. When was the last time he had a woman on the back of his bike? Fuck, it’d been years, and then it had been a random woman he’d picked up for the night. Now that he was in the MC, having a woman riding with him meant something. Not just anyone deserved to be there.
