When it came to men, I’d always played it safe. I’d dated the good guys—the future-husband types. But deep down, I’d never really been satisfied by those types. The number of sexual partners I’d had could be counted on one hand—and none of them had ever made me lose my mind in the bedroom. The one thing I fantasized about was having one uninhibited sexual experience so that in years to come, I could look back on it with a blush on my cheeks and a rush of warmth between my legs.

As dinner progressed, I realized Preston would never be the one to deliver that mind-altering sexual experience. So I was more than a little relieved when the waitress brought our check.

“Yo, Preston,” a booming voice called behind us.

Preston whirled around and his face broke into a wide grin. “Hey, guys.” He rose to do the manly hug/backslap thing with the three guys standing there. “Perfect timing. Annabel and I just finished dinner.”

My brows furrowed at his statement. “I’m sorry?”

A slight flush tinged Preston’s cheeks. “Oh, um, you don’t mind hanging out a little longer to watch the game, do you? The guys and I kinda have a Monday-night tradition.”

Nibbling on my lip, I fought the urge to either laugh maniacally or burst into tears at the situation I found myself in. Instead of having an actual date, I had been worked in to accommodate Preston’s schedule. If I had had any ideas about Preston’s and my romantic future, they would have fled in that moment.

Forcing a smile, I said, “Sure. That will be fine. As long as we’re not out too late. I have an eight o’clock class in the morning.” I held my tongue on the fact that I hated football with a fiery passion.

“Of course,” Preston replied.

“Okay. Sounds good.” As I rose from the booth, I once again caught the stranger’s gaze. Cocking his brow at me, he seemed to be issuing some sort of challenge. I cut my eyes away from his and looked at Preston. “Give me a few minutes. I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

“No problem.” He leaned in and bestowed a chaste kiss on my cheek before turning to follow the guys to the game room. With a sigh, I picked up my purse and started for the bathroom.

Just as I was passing the sexy stranger at the bar, his arm reached out and grabbed mine. “Excuse me?” I demanded as I slung his arm away.

“Don’t let that uptight prick ruin your evening. Sit down—have a beer with me. You deserve a night with a real man.”

The tug-of-war between politeness and temptation raged in my mind. “Thank you for the offer, but I don’t think so.”

“You know, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you all night.”

My brows shot up, and with a teasing smile, I said, “You should work on your pick-up lines because that one is kinda creepy.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, I guess it is.” His dark eyes twinkled. “You’re a ballbuster, aren’t you?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You know what, ballbuster?”

“What?”

“You’ve been checking me out just as much.” A wicked gleam burned in his dark eyes. “Since I’m not a gentleman, I would say you’ve been eye-fucking me all night.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Oh, is that right?”

When he leaned in closer to me, his breath scorched my cheek. Almost involuntarily, my eyes closed at his proximity. I hated the feelings he was eliciting in me, but at the same time I wanted to savor them and explore them. “You want to know what it’s like to be with someone like me—a biker. A good girl like you wants to know if all the rumors are true.”

“You’re pretty sure of yourself.”

He grinned. “As sure as the wet panties you’re sporting right now.”

My eyes widened, and I stared at him. “No one has ever talked to me that way before.” Secretly, I loved the boldness of his filthy talk. It made me wonder what would come out of his mouth next.

“And you love it.” When I started to protest, he shook his head. “Come on and let me buy you a drink, ballbuster.”

Nibbling my lip, I stared at the entrance to the game room. Everything in me said this was a bad idea. That I should make my way back to Preston as soon as possible. But I had always taken the safe route, and I was sick of it.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s already so into the game he’s forgotten he had the finest piece of ass he’ll ever have sitting across from him.”

“Do you have a bike?”

His brows rose in surprise. “Hell yeah, I have a bike. A fucking Harley-Davidson Dyna Super Glide Sport.”

This was it. Now-or-never time. “Then take me for a ride.”

“You’re serious?”

I nodded. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”

He laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me at all, babe.”

Thinking about Preston’s disregard for my feelings gave me fuel to keep going. “So will you take me home?”

“You’re not waiting on your boyfriend?”

“He isn’t my boyfriend. And no, I’m not.”

The guy rose from the barstool. “Then let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Wait—I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Johnny.”

“And I’m Annabel.” As I fell in step behind him, I couldn’t help wondering whether this decision was a good one.

THREE

ANNABEL

My anxious feelings quickly disappeared. I’m not sure I had ever felt anything so freeing as being on the back of Johnny’s motorcycle. Any fear I’d had about riding on a bike faded. With the wind rippling through my hair and clothing, I closed my eyes and snuggled closer to Johnny.