Author: Jaci Burton

“I’m not making you an experiment, you know.”

He uncapped a bottle of water and handed it to her, but didn’t say anything. She took a long drink and handed it back to him. “I don’t like talking about my past.”

“It’s easier to put it behind you if you do.”

“I’ve already talked plenty about it. I don’t want to do it again.”

She turned to face him, crossing her legs over each other. “So you had counseling?”

His lips curled. “You could say that.”

“Did it help?”

He shrugged. “It forced me to face some things I didn’t really want to examine again.”

“Like?”

“There you go again . . . probing. Maybe you should have been a psychologist.”

Funny he should mention that. “That was Lacey’s major.”

“Was?”

“Yes. She dropped out midway through her master’s.”

“Why?”

“Because she met Bo and joined the Hellraisers.”

“You don’t approve.”

Her head shot up. “What makes you say that?” His smirk irritated her. He seemed to be able to read her so well. Was she that transparent?

“The tone of your voice.”

“Oh. Well, it’s not that I don’t approve.”

“Maybe she didn’t want to be a psychologist after all.”

“I guess not.”

He tilted his head and studied her. “But you don’t believe that.”

She leaned against the trunk of the tree, wondering how the topic had drifted to Lacey, when what she really wanted was to talk about him. But she supposed having someone to talk to about her best friend wasn’t a bad idea. “Honestly? I don’t know what to believe. She had a complete personality transformation in the past year.”

“Since she met Bo.”

“Yes.”

“Falling in love can change someone. Maybe meeting Bo switched her priorities.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Bo’s lifestyle is a lot different than Lacey’s. Maybe he introduced her to things she’d never known before, forced her to examine the life she had and she found it lacking. Maybe she prefers the life of the Hellraisers to one of academia.”

Huh. She’d never thought of those things. Now it was her turn to study him. “You’re very smart for—”

He laughed. “For what? For a biker?”

“I’m sorry. That didn’t come out like I meant it to.”

“If you think bikers are so dumb, what are you doing here, Ava?”

“It isn’t what I meant at all. I guess I just have my own preconceived notions of who bikers are. I didn’t expect . . .” She couldn’t go on. There was nothing she could say to get her foot out of her mouth.

“Go ahead,” he said, laughter still tingeing his voice. “It takes a lot to insult me. I really want to know what you think.”

“I guess I don’t expect you all to be college educated.”

“We’re not. I’m not. But some are. Bikers come from all walks of life, Ava. Open your eyes and take a look around. Talk to some of the people in biker groups. They’re anything from day laborers to doctors, from fast-food employees to scientists, and everything in between. All you need is a love of motorcycles and riding.”

“To be in a regular motorcycle club, you mean. Not necessarily the Hellraisers.”

Rick grabbed a hunk of grass and pulled it, then let it sift through his fingers, piece by piece, to the ground. “The Hellraisers are different. They’re more like a lifestyle.”

“So there is a difference in the type of people who become Hellraisers?”

“Maybe.”

She sighed. “You confuse me.”

“Good. I’d hate to think I was predictable.”

“You’re definitely not predictable.”

He leaned in, and once again she inhaled the scent of leather, of horses, and the outdoors. Of him. She mainly liked his scent and moved a little closer.

“Predictable is boring. It’s safe. Knowing everything about someone is the kiss of death to a relationship.”

He was coming closer, and she knew he was going to kiss her. “Knowing everything about someone means you can trust them.”

He paused, his lips lifting. “I don’t think you can ever trust someone completely. Or know everything there is about them. That’s part of the fun. Peeling the layers back a bit at a time instead of all at once.”

“Like what we’re doing now?”

“Yes.”

So close she felt his breath brush her cheek. He combed his fingers through her ponytail, letting the tendrils fall back onto her shoulder like a soft rain. Her lips parted on a sigh and he pressed his mouth to hers.

God, it was sweet. The day was warm but there was a cool breeze. She needed it to cool down her raging libido, which had come to life in an instant as soon as Rick’s lips touched hers. She melted into him and he pulled her onto his lap. She went willingly, his arms wrapping around her in a cocoon. Oh, she liked the feel of him surrounding her. She laid her hand on his chest where his jacket was open, felt his heart beating—strong, steady, gradually increasing in rhythm as his lips plundered hers. She imagined her heart doing the same, pumping a mad rhythm as his tongue slid between her parted lips. He dipped her head down in the crook of his arm, cradling her as he kissed her with more depth, more passion, until she was swimming in sensation and wholly unable to catch a breath.

This was madness, this loss of control out here in the wilderness. Already her mind was pummeled by images of what Rick could do to her out here, and all of them were naughty, forbidden, and everything she wanted. Undressing her completely, until she was naked to the elements, then licking every part of her body until he devoured her pussy, making her come over and over until her screams echoed off the canyon walls.

She shuddered in his arms and he pulled away, looking down on her with eyes dark with passion.

“Do you want to peel some layers, Ava?”

Physical or psychological? She didn’t know what he meant. Should she ask? Did it matter?

Why did she find it so hard to breathe whenever he got close to her? She wasn’t a teenager anymore. She was an adult. A woman experienced in sex and relationships. Yet her pulse raced and all her intimate body parts swelled and throbbed in anticipation, as if this was the first time, the first man.

Getting involved in an intimate relationship with Rick wasn’t why she had come to the Hellraisers. She was supposed to be spending time with Lacey.

But finding out more about bikers might give her insight into what the attraction was to Lacey. And that might help.

You’re making excuses. You want him. So he wasn’t part of her overall plan for being here this week. So what? Why couldn’t she just jump into something without thinking about it, plotting it, charting it, or examining it a hundred different ways?

Rick smiled and gently lifted her off his lap, then stood, held his hand out. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Back to Joey’s. I think the horses have rested long enough.”

What? Why? She took a quick glance at him before he turned away and headed toward the horses, saw the outline of his erection, knew what would have happened if she hadn’t hesitated.

Dammit. She’d ruined another moment by having to think out every possibility. What the hell was wrong with her anyway?

She hurried to catch up with him. “We don’t have to leave yet. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

He dragged her into his arms and ravaged her mouth with a demanding, hard kiss, the kind that curled her toes, made her stop breathing—stop thinking—the kind of kiss that melted her right there and made her as hot as the desert sun. When he pulled away, she had no idea what to think, other than her legs were shaking. And she wanted more of his mouth on her.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. We need to get out of here. I don’t want to make love to you in the middle of the desert. It’s getting late and the others will be leaving Joey’s house soon. I need to get with Bo about something before everyone takes off.”

“Oh.”

“But I am going to make love to you, Ava. Count on it.”

He untethered her horse and handed her the reins. She mounted up, the tenderness of her pussy making contact with the saddle reminding her of what was going to happen between them.

But when? And where?

SIX

Timing was everything. Or in Rick and Ava’s case, never a good thing. Why was it that every time things got hot and heavy between them, the timing wasn’t right?

He supposed that meant that once the timing was finally right, it was going to be damn good.

He hoped it was going to be soon, because his balls were aching. Getting off with her by phone last night had just been a teaser, had left his mind filled with images of her naked and touching herself, her fingers buried in her pussy. He got hard just thinking about it. And this afternoon in the desert he’d edged toward stripping her and fucking her right there on the ground.

But something just wasn’t right about that. When they got naked together he wanted some goddamned privacy—with nothing to interrupt them. So again he’d put the brakes on.

He wondered when he had developed scruples. Typically he didn’t care where he pulled out his dick, as long as he and the lady got off. And he knew damn well he could get Ava off. From the way she wriggled in his lap, her heavy breathing, the way she clutched his jacket—she was primed for an orgasm or ten.

But no, not there. Not then.

Tonight, for sure. Other than the apocalypse, nothing was going to keep him from getting naked with Ava.

They’d ridden the horses back to Joey’s, unsaddled and brushed them down, which gave them just enough time to make it back to Joey’s house for one cold beer before everyone was ready to ride out of there. There was a bike event that Bo wanted to check out on the Strip, and then an outside band playing tonight where they were all going to gather.

It was dark by the time they reached Las Vegas, the lights of the city just beginning to show their sparkle. Rick had forgotten how much he liked being on the Strip. When he was a kid he used to imagine being rich and making it big in Vegas. He and Bo and their friends would play cards in one of the guys’ garages and Rick would imagine himself as a high roller, welcomed at all the casinos as a hot shot who won big and spent big. He laughed at how naïve he’d once been.

Now he just enjoyed seeing the allure of Vegas—but knowing that he’d leave it as soon as this assignment was over. Las Vegas was part of his past, but would always be home to him.

He’d outgrown the desire to be rich and famous. He was content enough to have stayed out of trouble, to have the job he held, a few people he could call friends. He wondered how things would have been different if General Lee hadn’t walked into his life all those years ago. Would he lead the Hellraisers by now, like Bo did, or would he be rotting in a jail cell somewhere? Or something even worse than that?

He’d gotten damn lucky. He wondered what choices Bo had made for his life, still didn’t know the extent of what the Hellraisers were up to. Part of him hoped that Bo wasn’t into anything bad. They might not be close anymore, but Bo was the only family Rick had. At least the only family Rick acknowledged having. Rick’s parents had long ago given up on him. As far as he was concerned, they were dead. For all he knew, they really were dead by now. Given their lifestyles as cokeheads, they probably were. Or in jail. He didn’t care. The only person he’d ever cared about was Bo.

But he also knew Bo was an adult, and as an adult you made your own choices, chose what road you traveled. If Bo was down and dirty there wouldn’t be much Rick could do to help him.