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Max finished coloring in part of the vixen’s legs as Jace made some small addition to the sexy man’s chest.
After some practiced timing they got to the front counter at the same time. She noticed her head barely reached the top of his shoulder as they paid for their tattoo work, which set off a few more shivers.
Overpowered by a massive guy? Turn-on of the century.
“Do you live around here?” he asked as he held the door open for her.
“Yes, but it doesn’t really matter. Did you drive here?” she replied, scanning the empty street and not seeing anything but a broken down Ford truck that had been abandoned weeks ago.
“Yeah, my ride’s in the alley,” he said, touching her arm and pointing around the tattoo place.
She walked where he indicated, and her feet slowed to a halt.
It wasn’t just a motorcycle; it was a vintage bike. The full front and rear wheel covers glowed a candy apple red, the wide black leather seat gleaming in the dull glow of the alley’s one light.
“That’s an Indian,” she mumbled, her legs turning to jelly. It had been Luke’s dream bike, but something well out of reach of his salary.
The image of this man riding it, though preferably shirtless under his leather vest, got her juices flowing again.
“Yeah. You into bikes?” he asked, his voice rumbling somewhere above her head.
“Oh, you have no idea,” she said, walking over to the chrome and red gleaming machine.
5
Ryder watched the woman stroll to his bike, her round ass in her tight skirt swaying in a way he knew was deliberate. Those fucking stilettos clicked against the rutted pavement. It would have made him hard, except he’d been that way since seeing her practically spread eagle in the tattoo chair.
She was both the kind of woman he avoided and the kind he went for.
The way she looked, with her retro-style hairdo and vintage clothes, the long red nails and matching lipstick, was something he rarely saw. His gut, however, sent off alarm bells: she would be more high maintenance than he wanted.
But the blatant look of lust in her eyes… It said she wanted sex, wanted it now, and there’d be no pleasantries needed for him to get it.
He just had to hope her high maintenance didn’t include clinginess.
“This is just… fucking amazing,” she murmured when she got to his bike. She walked around it, an arm extended to run those red fingernails along the chrome of the handlebars to the gas tank and then rest on the seat.
She draped her plastic coat over the gas tank, then pressed gently against the seat with both hands.
“Feels comfy,” she murmured.
“I only have one helmet, so we might have to walk to your place,” he said, slowing his pace as he approached her. She leaned slowly forward, pressing on the seat and looking at him with parted lips. Her arms pushed her tits together, making them strain at the buttons on the low-cut collar.
His dick just about burst out of his pants.
“This seems pretty sturdy,” she commented in a husky voice, challenging him with black-rimmed eyes right out of a 40s pin-up poster.
“It’s strong,” he agreed, the wide kickstand pad keeping the bike upright.
He approached her and the bike, then stopped when she smiled and stepped back. She trailed her hand along the seat and rear fender, rounding the bike to stand within inches of him.
She looked him up and down and the fire in her eyes turned the fire in his gut into an inferno. He hadn’t been looking for anything before he started his job tomorrow, but he wasn’t going to turn down something offered. Or something so hot.
“Strong enough for me?” she asked, looking behind her and putting her hands on the seat.
He needed no more encouragement than that.
“Absolutely,” he growled, and grasped her tiny waist.
