Page 26 of Ride Hard
Sloane
Turning off the shower,I dried myself off and pulled on myclothes.
That morning, I’d woken up on the side of the bed labeled ‘frustrated.’ The longer Chaser and I were on this screwed-up road trip to hell, the more confused I became. It was like I’d stepped into some parallel universe where nothing was as itseemed.
I was beginning to doubt the bad guys Chaser had decided he was there to protect me from even existed. If it weren’t for the very real encounter with that guy behind Teasers and the pool of blood Mrs. Adelstein had been lying in, I would’ve laughed in his face. Then called the cops on his ass and reported him for stalking. Either that or just get Bobby to kick the shit out of him in a darkalley.
Pushing out of the bathroom, I sat on the end of the bed. The moment the bathroom was free, Chaser strode into it and slammed the doorclosed.
Picking up my textbook, I shoved it into my bag. It was near on impossible to study while Chaser stared at me like I’d sprouted a second head. Did he think it was a waste of time to get a degree?Pfft, what would he know? He was a bounty hunter kidnapper piece of shit who ran with bikers. It was a miracle he even knew what a bookwas.
Glancing at his bag, I felt the telltale signs of temptation. My money might be in there. Glancing at the bathroom door, my mind went blank as I realized the door hadn’t closed. A gap the width of my palm granted me access to the ultimate peep show, and another kind of temptation reared its ugly head. As the shower turned off and Chaser got out, I didn’t have the strength to lookaway.
I was rooted to the spot, my gaze lowering over the curve of his back and down to his ass.Fuck me. It was round and perfect. Imagining his cheeks flexing as he fucked, Iflushed.
Turn around, turn around,turnaround.
He reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist, denying me the glimpse of his cock I was so desperatefor.
What was wrong with me? I was lusting after the man who’d practically kidnapped me. Well, he had saved me from Pube Face and whoever had murdered Mrs. Adelstein. But… There was always a but at the end of every hotguy.
But he was a biker bounty hunter. But he was only here because he’d been ordered. But he was taking me back to my dick of a father. But he probably had a pussy in every town. But he was no good forme.
There had to be better men out there. I knew there was, but I wasn’t going to meet them locked up in a fortress made out of the blood and tears of a bunch of dudes ontricycles.
Well and truly missing the opportunity to get my money back, I picked up a boot, stuck my foot inside and did up the sidezipper.
I was going mad. Certifiably crazy asfuck.
The bathroom door opened, revealing a fully clothed Chaser. Pouting, I pulled on my other boot and dragged my bag out to the car while he returned the key. We had a whole routine going. If it weren’t for him always looking over our shoulders for some unknown threat, it would’ve beenquaint.
Waiting for him in the front seat of the car, I salivated as he appeared around the corner and strode toward me. Broad shoulders, a T-shirt that clung to his muscled chest, the edges of his tattoo peeking out of the collar, his stubbled jaw, and hair that fell forward over his brow. Every time he combed his hand through his dark locks, I felt myself juicingup.
When he got in the car, he shoved my feet off thedash.
“How many fuckin’ times do I have to tell you to keep your feetdown?”
You would think that would serve as a proverbial bucket of ice water, but his touch only sent sparks up my legs and into my girlybits.
Shoving on my five-dollar sunglasses, I made aface.
But by the time we’d driven an hour down the road, I was squirming in my seat. It would be really dumb of me to rub one out in the car, but I was contemplating it. And to think just an itty bitty glimpse of his ass did this tome.
“Will you sit still?” Chaser barked at me like a rabid Doberman. “You’re really pissing meoff.”
“Join theclub.”
My gaze lowered, studying every inch of him. He was well aware I was staring because his hand tightened on the gearstick.
I’d noticed he had a sloppy way of driving. He leaned slightly to the side while his left hand sat on the steering wheel and his right lay either on his lap or on the center console. Today, I noticed he had a smear of black ink on his right thumb between thejoints.
“What’s this?” I grasped his hand and lifted it up so I could see the tattoo on histhumb.
“It’s my stamp of approval,” he replieddryly.
It was a tattoo that looked like a crude rendering of two crossed swords. I knew that image, and it made me want to puke. It was the Fortitude logo. Yeah, a logo like they were some kind of corporate conglomeration with a businesscard.
“They mark you now?” Idemanded.
