2. Viper
Chapter Two
VIPER
I should have called the ranger.
That's what any sane person would do when they get a text from a stranded stranger. They let the authorities handle it. Not ride up into the mountains on their Harley like some knight in scuffed-up leather armor.
But there was something about those texts. The way she said she was freezing. The quiet desperation underneath the polite words. I've been the guy left out in the cold before, metaphorically speaking. I know what it feels like when no one's coming to save you.
So here I am, trying not to gawk at this curvy little redhead who’s told me she thinks I’m scary.
She's nothing like the women who sometimes orbit the club.
No leather, no attitude, no hard edge. Just deliciously soft curves in a rust-colored cardigan that matches her copper hair and boots that belong in a city coffee shop, not on a mountain road.
She looks like she stepped out of one of those fall Pinterest boards my sister Megan is always trying to show me.
And she's fucking gorgeous. Not flashy, but beautiful in a way that hits me right in the gut.
I hold out the helmet. “Come on, Red. It's not gonna hurt you.”
She takes it with shaky hands. “I've never been on a motorcycle before.”
Of course she hasn't. This girl probably thinks jaywalking is living dangerously.
I swing my leg over the seat. “Hold on tight and don't lean away from the turns. Move with the bike.”
The moment she swings her leg over the bike and settles behind me, my cock jerks, lengthening and hardening to press against my zipper. She’s an irresistible combination of warmth and softness.
Big trouble, in other words.
Jean's arms circle my waist like she's done this a thousand times, but she’s putting on a brave act. She's holding on like I'm the only solid thing in her whole world right now. And I'm trying real hard not to picture her hands dipping into my pants.
I've barely said two words to her, but I'm already hard as hell and ready to go. I shift slightly in the seat, hoping she doesn't notice. It's not just how she’s pressed up against me; it's her scent. Vanilla and honey, like a dessert you don’t ever want to stop eating.
Damn it.
I clench my jaw and fire up the engine. I need to focus.
I could ride these roads blindfolded. They're second nature to me now. But with her behind me, my pulse is racing like I'm fifteen again, taking my first illegal ride into town on a stolen Yamaha.
Every damn inch of her pressed against me. And when we lean into the first curve, she lets out this soft, surprised gasp and tightens her grip.
My body responds instantly. She’s fucking perfect.
Get it together, man.
She's off-limits. A stranger. Probably scared out of her damn mind.
And I'm a big, rough bastard on a motorcycle; not exactly the guy that beauties like her dream about.
Except... the way she looked at me when I took my helmet off, like I'd flipped her world upside down.
Like she couldn't decide if she wanted to run away or climb me like a tree.
God help me, I want her to climb. I want her to sit on my lap so I can explore every inch of that luscious, curvy body.
“I love this!” she calls out as we wind through the mountains, her voice whipped away by the wind.
I take the scenic route, adding an extra loop to keep her on the bike a few more minutes. The sun is setting behind the peaks, painting everything gold and orange. In the mirror, her big hazel eyes are wide, taking it all in.
By the time we make it to the Laird place, full dark has settled over the mountains. I pull into the gravel driveway lined with fairy lights. The place is pretty nice; a rustic cabin with a big wraparound porch, a hot tub, and expensive outdoor furniture.
I kill the engine, and her arms loosen.
Not a moment too soon.
“You alive back there?” I ask.
She lets out a breathy laugh. “Barely. That was... fast.”
“You asked for a ride. And I gave you one.”
Her cheeks flush that pretty, delicate pink. She knows what I just said sounds filthy.
Good.
She swings her leg over awkwardly and stumbles a little when her boots hit the ground. I'm off the bike in a second, hand out before I can stop myself.
She takes it.
Her palm is small in mine. Warm. That touch ricochets around my body, all the way to my bones.
“Thanks, I'm fine. Maybe a little shaky.”
I nod. “Adrenaline.”
“From the motorcycle or from the giant stranger who picked me up on the side of a mountain?”
“Could be both.”
Her smile is crooked. I like it way too much.
She walks toward the porch, and I follow. I don't know why; I should leave. But something about the sway of her hips in those jeans and the curve of her neck keeps me rooted.
“I can take it from here,” she says at the top of the stairs.
But she doesn't unlock the door. She stands there, back to me.
“You sure?” I ask.
She turns and for a split second, everything stills. The wind moves her hair and her cheeks are pink from the ride. Her eyes search my face like she's trying to figure me out.
“I think I owe you a thank you,” she says. My cock jumps in my pants again, and I shift my weight.
“You don't, Red. It was my pleasure.”
“I texted the wrong number, and you showed up anyway.”
I shrug. “I was already heading into town. Didn't feel right to ignore it.”
“You didn’t have to. I thought you'd be scary.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And now?”
She gives me a once-over that should be illegal, her pink lips pouting.
“Still scary. But maybe not the bad kind.” There's heat in her voice.
I take a step closer. Her breath catches. Her back hits the cabin wall, but she doesn't move away.
“I'm not a good guy, Jean,” I growl.
Her gaze drops to my mouth. “Maybe I'd like to be the judge of that.”
My fists clench at my sides. I can't. I shouldn't. But I want to. Every instinct I have screams at me to kiss her. To pin her against that wall and show her exactly what kind of man I am. But I've spent fifteen years learning control, learning to be better than my worst impulses.
I take a slow breath and step back, turning toward the stairs. “I'll see you around.”
She watches me the whole way to the bike.
When I straddle the bike, I pause.
“You should be careful about texting strangers,” I say without looking back.
Her voice floats across the air, light and teasing. “I’m making no promises. Got a free ride up here, didn’t I?”
I laugh under my breath as I kick the engine back to life.
Trouble. This girl is big trouble.
And I want more.