Page 2 of Ride Hard
“Oh, no, youdidn’t!”
I ignored her pouting and turned to serve a customer who’d leaned against the bar. I readied myself for the inevitable eye contact with my boobs, but when my gaze met a pair of ‘knock the wind out of me’ hazel eyes, I nearly choked on my ownspit.
I, like any other red-blooded woman, had vivid fantasies about the perfect man. Rough, devilish, iridescent eyes, messy hair, stubble, leather jacket, and tight jeans that left little to the imagination. You know, the works. But when it stood in front of you, it was another game. That game was called ‘Sloane loses her ability to sass and creams her panties on thespot.’
This guy checked off all items on my list. Pair the bullet points with a strong jaw, a tattoo peeking out the top of his T-shirt, and the direct eye contact, and you had the perfectman.
Just don’t open your mouth unless it’s to use your tongue to explore my mouth and my lady bits, I thought tomyself.
I shoved away my stupid fantasy, knowing it was just frustration talking. He was bad news. He was hot as sin and then some, but I didn’t need it. Life was complicated enough as it was without a dick fucking it up. Even a little sex on the side was too much work.Man, I was really screwed up if I was considering turning down a one-nighter.
Truth was, I didn’t even have time to finger myself let alone bend over for a quickie with a stranger. Between shifts at this shithole, I had a heavy course load and no one to help me with it. No study group, no teacher’s assistant, no lectures. Just an ancient laptop, the Wi-Fi at the local fast-food joint, and my brain to piece it alltogether.
Trying to get a college degree online sucked balls, but when you didn’t have the time or money to go in person like normal people, you had to make do. Besides, it was much easier to enroll with a fake ID on the Internet. No one checked yourpicture.
“Sloane,” the man said, my name sounding like a dirty word on his lips. “That’s what you call yourself thesedays?”
“Excuseme?”
“It’s nice.” He tilted his head to the side and looked me overagain.
I was starting to doubt the eye contact had a single thing to do with picking me up. Things were becoming uncomfortable. Bigtime.
“Look, I don’t know who you are, but if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll have to call the cops.” I backed away from the bar, wishing I was packing heat. A nice little twenty-two millimeter down the back waistband of myjeans.
“There’s no need to call anyone,” the man said, leaning forward. “I’m here for yourprotection.”
I snorted andlaughed.
“That’s a good one,” I said, gesturing at him. “You? Protect me? Worst pick-up line ever. Now, if you’ll excuseme…”
I turned to walk away, but his hand shot out and grasped myarm.
“I don’t think you get my meaning,” he snarled. “This isn’t anoffer.”
I tensed. “Let mego.”
“Your father sent me,” hesaid.
Well, that escalatedquickly.
My hackles rose, and my lip curled. “Then you can go right back and tell him I said a big fuckyou.”
Now it all made sense. Daddy dearest wanted something out of me so desperately he’d sent one of his lackeys to track me down like a bloodhound. Looking at the guy in front of me, I made a face. He might be handsome with his scruff and hard jawline, but now he’d played his hand, I could see he had dog written all overhim.
“If I can find you, so canthey.”
“They?” I narrowed my eyes. “What is it this time? Did he fuck some guy’s daughter, and now her daddy is looking for payback? Or was it an expansion job that’s turned into a turf war? Did he try to steal someone else’s corner by the local bodega so he could sell his little packets of shitty powder? I know how these things go. Revenge begets revenge, and that revenge begets more revenge. Why do you think I left? He wasn’t my father. At least, he wasn’t the one Ineeded.”
“Still, he is your dadand—”
“Look, whatever your name is…” I waved my hand athim.
“Chaser.”
I snorted. “Really? That’s your name? I thought it was something like Bulldog…orli’lbitch.”
“This isn’t a joke.” His eyes narrowed inwarning.
