Page 8 of The Biker's Forbidden Craving

I roll my eyes and sit up just enough to take another sip of courage. “I liked your jacket, so I took it. The end.”

He laughs under his breath and rolls toward me. “You took my jacket because you liked it? It had my name on it. My patches. What did you like about that?”

That it smelled like you. That when I pulled it on, it felt like a big warm hug. That when I was masturbating, I could almost feel your arms around me.

“I don’t know, it was warm. It was a good jacket.”

He tilts his head to the side and narrows his brows. “This is a truth bet. You’re not telling the whole truth. Why did you take my jacket?”

I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly, wondering what it would mean to tell him the truth. What the words would sound like slipping from my lips. What reality would be if he knew I wanted to be with him.

I’m pretty sure it would be awful. My brother would lose a best friend, and I’d give Duke a reason to hate me, and that’s not the way this dynamic words.I hate him… and I imagine that he feels bad for being a fuck up. It’s our thing, and it can’t be reversed.

“Come on.” Hank grins, lifting his hand with a menacing smile as though he’s going to do something awful. “If you don’t play by the rules, you have to take the punishment.”

“Punishment? No, nowyou’remaking up new rules.”

“No, those are the standing rules. Everyone knows that.” His hand stretches closer toward my ribs.

“What’s the punishment?”

“Tickles,” he groans, leaning up from the bed. “Everyone knows the punishment is tickles.”

“Tickles?” I question as seriously as possible. “Are we twelve? Why isn’t the punishment a twenty-dollar bill or a bunch of weird demands? Maybe you should make me clean this room.”

He narrows his gaze. “Oh, please. This room is clean.”

“Clean-ish.” I smile.

He draws his hand back with a grin. “The punishment should be that you have to tell me one truth on top of the jacket story. Your loss and my win all combined into one. I’ll take a twenty too, if you have it.”

I huff out a laugh that I’m tamping down and roll my eyes, taking another swig of beer. The bottle is almost gone now, and I’m buzzed. I’ve never finished a beer in my life. I see why people like it—not so much the taste, but how loose you feel after drinking it.

I’m not drunk. I’m just… relaxed. “I’m not sure which is worse. Tickles or the truth.”

“I’m pretty sure tickles are off the table now. You made a good point about the money and the truth. I’d much rather know your deepest darkest secrets. It’s your birthday so I’m cutting you a deal.”

I laugh and roll onto my stomach, safeguarding my ribs from a surprise attack. “A deal?No, I need to knowyourdeepest darkest secrets before you can know mine.” Cards stick to my stomach as I roll into place. I’m close enough that his arm brushes against mine unintentionally, sending a shock to my clit.

“Okay,” he relents. “Tell me why you took the jacket, and we’ll see.”

“We’ll see?”

“We’ll see. I want to see how honest you can be.”

I close my eyes and open them slowly. “I took your jacket because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” The words come out soft and clear, my gaze locked with his.

“What?” He’s saying what, but I get the feeling he already knows the answer.

“Yeah, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were this big, strong, older man, and you had the answers to everything. It was a phase… and it passed. So, yeah, I took your jacket.”

“It passed?”

“Yeah. It passed,” I lie. “You know how crushes work. A harmless little infatuation that passed really quickly, but your jacket was an unexpected casualty. I’m sorry.” My heart hammers in my chest as I talk.

“What did you do with it?”

“Huh?”Why won’t he stop talking?

---