Page 76 of Dirty Salvation

Wet. Heat. Pulse.

"No thanks, baby. Unless you wanna shove your tongue into my mouth when I get back to my room, then go for it, " he smirked a naughty twitch of his lips. She swallowed. Watching his gait stride away from her in the direction of his meeting room, or church as they called it, that sacred private room god only knows what was discussed there, she thought it wouldn't be anything good.

Outlaws were notorious law breakers. Outlaws who had broken several laws for her tonight.

They were now her favorite outlaws.

She smiled at his back, calling out. "Don't forget we're friends now, Rider."

That stopped him, he twisted around so slowly, she could practically see the play of muscles and bones that aided the move. Lithe slick movement, he stood with his hands placed on his lean hips, his head canted to the side.

He'd freed his hair between the barn and now, it hung thickly around his shoulders, parted down the middle. She'd never noticed while she'd been sucking his face off that he still wore a pair of black leather gloves. With arms bare, the contrast of colorful ink crawling up his left one and the leather gave him a roguish quality she found appealing. The same warmth bounced between her legs, pooled there, making her wet. Rider had such a way of looking at her with a thousand words in his eyes without having to speak them. The man breathed sensuality.

His eyes were saying;absolutely not, Zara. No way, no how, we are not friends.

But the man had committed murder for her. if that was not friendship she didn't know what was! She simply smiled, waved her fingers at him, and let him walk away cursing the air blue.

Herfriendwas so silly.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“I want her buried in my fuckin’ skin. Melted like butter on hot toast.” – Rider

"Peace offering." Zara cleared her throat holding out a cold beer, her fingers wrapped around the neck of the brown bottle.

Rider sent a gaze up from under those spectacular lashes before taking it, his hands hanging between his legs as he squatted on an upturned crate outside of the shop.

From inside came the loud volume of the radio playing and the sounds of the guys working.

She'd waited for more than an hour to see Rider alone, unashamedly peeking out of the club window across from the shop. She'd been prepared to offer him the olive branch in front of the other club members if need be but was thankful it was one-on-one. Unable to gauge what he was thinking, she shuffled her feet, put her hands in her pockets and then pulled then back out again.

For two days, she’d barely seen Rider, he was off dealing with club business, she heard that a lot from all the bikers, so didn’t ask what people were up to, she’d learned it was better not to know anyway, only she’d watched a few SUV’s coming and go, men she didn’t recognize, going into that small cabin office near the bike shop and wondered what was going on, or if this was normal practice for his MC.

Rider had been busy, she hadn’t wanted to disrupt him, but since the night of...murder and conclusion, she hadn’t been able to grab a moment alone with him.

She began to assume he was pissed at her for calling them friends, he hadn’t gone out of his way to see her either. She ate most of her meals in the kitchen with Tiny and twice now she’d sat at the bar and held a conversation with Uncle Jed.

But no Rider.

Her eyes ate him up whenever she saw him stride through the club, a giant imposing figure of a man in denim and leather, he’d winked catching her eye, so that had given her some hope.

“Didn’t know we were at war, Icy, but thanks for this, got a real thirst on today.” he cocked a half smile.

Hm. Still unreadable. Dammit, she’d missed him.

He also hadn’t slept in his room, either. It was the push she’d needed to hunt him down now. Wherehadhe slept? More importantly, with who? Her belly clenched. The crown of Rider's head was covered in his navy bandana capturing all his hair, the look appealed on a baser level, something raw and ultra-masculine, one that pleased.

"Mind if I sit a minute?"

One side of his mouth quirked as he drank, and when he cast that roguish gaze up at her Zara visibly inhaled feeling it deep in her belly.I want him to look at me. She realized. That slick rolling of his eyes down her body checking her out, appreciating what he saw, she wanted it

"Sure, baby. I'd offer my lap, but I've been friend-zoned."

Zara snorted a little embarrassed, did the man have no shame and zero filters? she dragged the second crate over a little to be closer to where he was. She liked that he hadn't stopped calling her baby. It was a good sign.

"Big bad biker man doesn't have women who are just friends?"

"Not until recently." His reply was flippant but amused. She observed how he took the beer to his full lips, licking them after he'd taken a drink. She might be crazy, but she wasn't looking at him like any friend she'd ever had before.

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