Page 17 of Burly Biker of Misty Mountain

“You wouldn’t force a lady to do anything she didn’t want to,” I retorted, lifting my chin with more bravado than I felt. “You don’t taste or touch without permission. That’s what you told me when we first met.”

He smirked with a gleam in his eye that I was beginning to recognize meant nothing but trouble.

“And clearly you haven’t stopped thinking about it ever since. Was it the tasting part that’s been taking up so much space in your pretty head? Or was it the touching part?”

I faltered and my face grew hot. Glancing away, I skirted around him and backed up toward his bike. I scooped the helmet off his handlebar.

“Do you ever get your mind out of the gutter?”

Maverick chuckled and shook his head.

“Not when you’re around.”

My mouth went dry and I suddenly became all thumbs as I fumbled with the buckle of my helmet. Maverick brushed my hands aside and clipped the straps together neatly. He grazed his knuckles along my jawline with a wink. I cleared my throat.

“What—um—what about you?” I asked, desperate to change the subject so I could think straight for two seconds. “What do you do for a living?”

“I thought we weren’t spilling secrets,” he protested.

“I’mthe one who’s not spilling secrets. You can say whatever you want.”

Maverick tugged on the strap of my helmet with an amused hum.

“Is that so?”

“I meant within reason,” I quickly amended.

He grunted, studying me for so long that I shifted in place under his gaze.

“Hustling. Poker and pool mostly. Every once in a while, I’ll take an odd job if I’m sticking around one place long enough to pick up a paycheck.”

“I’ve never played poker. Or pool.”

“I could teach you,” Maverick suggested. “Starting with strip poker.”

And I was blushing.Again.I sputtered a laugh, pushing at his chest.

“You never let up, do you?”

“Wouldn’t matter what cards you played,” he continued. “As soon as your clothes started coming off, I’d be waving the white flag of surrender. I fold. You win.”

“I don’t think that’s how the game works,” I replied.

He flashed that devastating smile and my stomach swooped. Damn it, he looked so good, it wasn’t fair.

“Ditch the rules, dove. Use what you’ve got to your advantage.”

Maverick smoothed his hands down my back, cupping my ass. I gasped at the possessive grip of his fingertips digging into my flesh, and the searing warmth of his body heat, palpable through my jeans.

As tempted as I was to take up his offer, I knew I would never have the guts to go through it. I’d balked at making out in a dark movie theater, simply because I worried what Maverick wouldthink about seeing my body. Playing strip poker was absolutely off the table.

“We should—um—probably get going,” I pointed out.

Maverick traced his tongue over his lower lip, panning his gaze slowly over me. I still didn’t know what to do with myself when he looked at me like that—as if he was seconds away from devouring me.

“No strip poker then?”

“Only in your dreams.”

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