Page 23 of Tito

“Why?”

“I found it interesting.”

“Do you fear the police?” I asked.

He cleared his throat. “I believe there’s corruption in some departments, albeit a small percentage. With people being eager to plaster their bad experiences on social media and much less willing to share their positive encounters, I think the general public has become biased in their opinions of law enforcement. Despite those observations, I don’t fear them, personally. If you noticed a change in my demeanor when you revealed your father’s occupation, it was shock, not fear.”

His little speech regarding law enforcement was clear, concise, and well thought out. I gave him a look of disbelief. “You sound educated.”

“You seem surprised.”

“It’s just. It’s not what I expected from a biker.” As soon as the words passed my lips, I wished I could retract them.

His gaze narrowed. “That was a little prejudicial, wasn’t it?”

He was right. It was prejudicial. It wasn’t surprising, though. My mouth often delivered comments before the dab of common sense I possessed could stop it.

At the rate I was going, sex with Tito was nothing but a pipe dream. Realistically, I would end up spending what was left of my Saturday night in a wine-induced dance around a backyard bonfire while Mel tossed the few articles of clothing my ex left behind into the flickering flames.

My shoulders slumped in defeat. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

“I’ll try not to take it as such.”

I offered him an apologetic look. “Can we start over?”

“Sure.” He looked away for a moment, and then met my gaze. “I’ve got a friend that’s pretty savvy on matters of human nature. He told me you were planning to use me. In his opinion, infidelity ended your relationship, and you were intending to use me for sex to get back at your ex. Is there any truth to his belief?”

My face flushed with the warmth of embarrassment. I could deny his claim, but there was no sense in it. My beet-red cheeks told the truth, even if I wasn’t willing to.

Attempting to own the mortified look I was undoubtedly wearing. I grinned a guilt-ridden smile. “I’d say he was pretty accurate in his assumption.”

“Might not be a bad idea to eat before we get started.” He raised his menu until it obstructed his face. “You’re going to need the nourishment.”

Nourishment?

I blinked. “Huh?”

“I don’t need you cramping up in the middle of an all-nighter due to some deficiency in your diet,” he said from behind the menu. “Let’s eat before we get started, shall we?”

I hadn’t had an all-night sexual romp since my sophomore year in college. The thought of it was frightening. For an instant, anyway.

I swallowed against my tightening throat. “An…an all-nighter?”

“If I have one shot at this,” He lowered the menu, “I’m going to make it worth my while.”