Page 6 of Rigid

Oh really?

“Relax,” I said. “Have another beer.”

He set the bottle aside and shook his head. “I don’t ride drunk. One’s my limit.”

I looked at Cholo, expecting him to laugh or say something contradictory. He grinned and nodded. “He never drinks more than one.”

I shifted my eyes to Smoke. He shrugged and then stood. “You about ready?”

The thought of leaving with him excited me, but I wanted to act indifferent. “Where are we going to go?”

“We’ll head to Belmont Park, get some ice cream, and then maybe take a walk along Mission Beach. Toes in the sand sound good?”

Holy crap.

A handsome biker who had so much confidence it oozed from his pores, and he was romantic.

Who was I to argue?

I grabbed my purse, stood, and then met his gaze. “Really?”

He leaned toward me, brushed my hair to the side, and then pressed his mouth to my ear. “No,” he whispered, forcing his warm breath into my ear. “We’re going to your place, get to know each other a little, and see what happens. Now, turn around, wave at your friends, and smile.”

Goosebumps raised along the biceps of both my arms. The thought of having sex with him was exciting, but I wasn’t a whore, and I didn’t want him to expect that sex was a sure thing.

“I’m not a whore,” I whispered.

“Didn’t say you were. We’re both adults, though. And, I think you’re hot as fuck.” His hand slid along my side and stopped at the small of my back. “You gonna wave at ‘em, or not?”

I turned around, swallowed hard, and forced a grin. “We’re uhhm. We’re going to go ahead and go.”

Lex’s eyes slowly widened. Her smirk returned. She must have known. Cholo pinched the bill of his cap in a biker ‘goodbye’ wave.

I shot him a nervous smile and turned around.

Now facing the door with my blind date at my side, I was anxious and excited at the same time.

“Uhhm. Tell me a little about yourself,” I said, hoping to rid myself of the apprehension that filled me.

“I’ll tell you everything about me.” He chuckled and then began walking toward the door. “I like riding, eating at shitty diners, drinking coffee, and fucking.”

At least he was honest.

He pushed the front door open, mean-mugged a man as he walked past us, and then motioned for me to walk though. I stepped onto the sidewalk, and turned to face him. I wanted to act like he hadn’t shocked me, even though he had.

“Your list. Are they in order?” I asked. “From favorite to least favorite?”

He reached for the back of my neck, gripped it lightly in his hand, and pulled me close to his chest. His eyes met mine, and he held my gaze for an instant. I struggled to swallow as he leaned forward, brushing his cheek against mine as he did so.

“That depends on how good you are at fucking,” he breathed into my ear.

Dear fucking God.

It was too much.

My eyes fell closed and my legs went weak.

He lowered his hand, leaned away, and gave me a look.