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“Did you want something with alcohol in it?”
She drops her gaze, twirling the straw in the drink. “Maybe,” I read on her lips. I would have missed it if I wasn’t looking at her. I’m always looking at her.
“If you want something alcoholic, you can try mine.” I slide the glass of whiskey to her, watching to see her reaction. She grabs the glass to lift it to her lips, and my eyes follow, wishing it was my lips on hers instead.
Fuck, they’re cherry red too. When they part against the glass, my hard cock throbs in my pants, begging to be freed and buried in that sexy mouth.
Heaven above, she’s killing me, this girl.
She winces at the first taste of the drink before sliding my glass back to me. “I think I’ll stick to my drink.” She washes the whiskey taste from her mouth with her drink, which I think is a shame. I would give everything to taste the whiskey on her tongue.
I bet it’s intoxicating. Her taste.
“So, why did you want to see me?” she asks, nursing her Shirley Temple while staring up at me with her wide innocent eyes. “You said you don’t want money.”
“No.”
“Then what is it you want from me?”
Everything, sweetheart.
Voicing my desires will only send her running away, and I can’t have that. “This,” I say instead. “A night with a beautiful girl is what I want.”
She blinks at me, confusion written all over her face. “You don’t want . . . anything else?”
“Are you going to offer me money again?” My voice comes out a little rough as I stare at her. “Do you do that a lot?”
“It’s easier,” she mutters, bringing her lips down on the rim of her glass.
“Easier as opposed to confronting someone attempting to take advantage of you?”
She doesn’t respond, and that’s all I need for an answer. Just the thought of someone taking advantage of Sasha has my teeth clenching and wanting to seek out every last person who has done this to her when I have the sudden realization that I am no better than them.
Fuck!
The thought settles in the pit of my stomach like a brick.
“Is Riot your real name?” Her voice draws me back from my thoughts to find her staring up at me curiously.
“It is the only one I answer to,” I tell her. “Whatever name I had before is not important anymore.”
I wait for her to ask before what, but to my surprise, she doesn’t. Instead, her eyes shift from mine to look around the bar. “Do they serve food here? I haven’t had anything all day.”
“No, but there is a food truck down the street that should still be open. We can grab something there.”
She’s already getting up the second my words are out. I wave to the waitress and know that she’ll add the drinks to my tab—a perk of being a Steel Order member. We walk out, and although the food truck is only a few blocks from the bar, the thought of leaving my bike parked here doesn’t sit well with me, so I suggest taking it.
“I’ve never been on a bike before,” Sasha says, stepping beside me as we head toward the parking lot. She inches closer to me when she realizes how dark it is with the broken streetlight flickering dimly.
“It’s not that hard. You’ll just have to hold on tight to me,” I tell her, crossing over and heading to my bike. Sasha trips, and I reach out to grab her, wrapping my arm around her waist before she can plummet down to the rough pavement. Really, how has this girl survived to this point? “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, thanks. I think I missed a step,” she says, her breath brushing softly against my lips, and just like that, I forget to point out that I’m lost in her.
Christ, I didn’t realize just how close we were. Pulled flush against me with the soft press of her breasts against me and her sweet floral scent filling my nostrils, there is little I can do to control my need for this girl.
“I’m going to kiss you, Sasha,” I tell her, my eyes dropping to her lips, parted as her breath comes in slow puffs.
“Okay,” she whispers, and that is all I need to drop my head down to hers, my lips seeking hers hungrily. She whimpers, her perfect mouth opening underneath mine with a need that almost matches my own. Almost.
