Page 4 of Wild Night
Dakota keeps one of my hands in hers as she turns toward her people. They’re all watching me with mixed expressions. Some seem to be curious, some indifferent, and there are even a few who appear angry.
Yikes.
She drags me behind her, and I try not to twist my ankle in my too-high-heeled strappy black sandals on the gravel parking lot. Dakota whirls me around, introducing me to all the men and the few women.
The men… mygod. I’ve never seen so many sexy men in my life. They’re all wearing different versions of the same uniforms. Nice black shirts, a leather vest with some matching insignia stitched on the back, and patches on the sides and front.
And jeans.
Blue jeans that are well-worn and seem to be made for each of them.
I’ve never seen a whole group of men who are collectively—hot.
I smile and shake hands, trying not to be overly embarrassed or act shy. I feel extremely overwhelmed by the situation. I should have waited until tomorrow. I acted impulsively. I shouldn’t have. I didn’t think. I never think. Again, this is my fault, and I feel like a complete asshole.
Thankfully, she’s taken away by her husband to do wedding things, like dancing and cutting cake. Staying away from the action, I lean against the side of the building and watch the reception.
I should have waited to come here tomorrow, maybe in a week… probably shouldn’t have come at all. Closing my eyes, I let out an exhale. When I open them, I jump with a gasp. There is a man standing in front of me.
Albeit a sexy man.
A really sexy man.
Probably the sexiest man I’ve ever been this close to, live and in person.
“You’re trouble, aren’t you?” he asks.
His voice is rough and low, his eyes focused on mine. He takes a step toward me, lifting his arm then placing his hand on the wall next to my head. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and flick my gaze up at him, being obviously flirty.
“Trouble?” I ask. “Me?”
He chuckles and leans forward, and then I feel his lips against my ear. Whatever good sense I have, it vanishes. Any clear thought that I have disappears completely. Because right here in this moment, and it’s been well over two years since I’ve felt the sensation of desire, but with him being this close, it’s pulsing through my body.
Desire.
Want.
Need.
“You,” he chuckles, “are fuckin’ trouble.”
He says the words, but his lips are curved up into a grin, and he seems cheerful about the fact that he thinks I’m trouble. He lifts his other hand between us and moves it back and forth as if showing me what’s in his hand, which contains two bottles of beer that he holds by their necks.
Pushing off the wall, he takes a step backward, then jerks his chin. Without another word, he turns his back to me and starts walking around the building. I think about ignoring his silent invitation, but my body doesn’t let me.
My brain turns completely off, and my feet move, one right after the other, until I’m in a room alone with him. There’s a bed, a single nightstand, and nothing else. It’s definitely not anyone’s personal space, maybe a guest room, although I didn’t think badass bikers had those, but what the hell do I know?
He thrusts one of the bottles in my direction, his arm outstretched. I take it from him, wrapping my fingers around the cool, sweaty bottle, watching as he lifts his to his lips and takes a pull.
“My name’s Ivy,” he states.
“Posey,” I exhale.
His lips twitch into a smirk. “Yeah, babe. Know your name.”
“I shouldn’t be here,” I murmur.
His head tilts to the side, his eyes searching mine. “Probably not. But you are, and Dakota seems happy, which makes Bullet happy. So that’s all that really matters.”
