by Joanna Wylde
On the surface, sleeping with him was a bad idea.
For one thing, I usually wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of girl, and I had the feeling he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. At least, that’d been his reputation the first time we met. And that was before he’d joined a motorcycle club, which wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement when evaluating his potential manwhore status. To be fair, my old boss, Tinker, had managed to settle down with a biker. But for the most part, the Reapers seemed to prefer living wild and free.
So, that was the first issue.
The second was that Rome lived in the same town as my family, which meant I’d probably see him again sooner or later. A fun hookup tonight could make future grocery runs awkward. Especially if the interview I’d had yesterday at the dental clinic turned into a real job. A friend from high school had forwarded the listing to me, and I’d sent in my resume almost as a joke. I mean, once I’d finally gotten out of Hallies Falls, I’d sworn that I’d never look back. Applying for a job here made no sense at all, right?
But three years ago, Mom blew out three discs in her back. She had to go on disability. The cost of living was lower in Hallies Falls and she had ties to the community, so moving back here made sense. I’d been worried about Lexi and Kayden ever since, and this visit hadn’t exactly been reassuring. Lexi might act like she had it all together, but she was right about one thing—the situation wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t have to be the adult in the house at sixteen. I knew firsthand what that felt like, and I wanted better for her.
Maybe this date had been a mistake…
Fuck’s sake, it’s only a dinner, I reminded myself. Going out and having some fun for once isn’t going to kill you. Stop overthinking it.
This was good advice, and so I tightened my arms around Rome, settling in to enjoy the ride. Loup Loup was stunning, the highway winding its way through gorgeous, evergreen-covered hills. You could still see the evidence of the wildfires, although nature was taking back her own with a vengeance. That was the thing about fire… It might be terrifying, but it also cleared the path for new growth. And not only was the scenery beautiful, Rome handled the bike like a master, every curve so smooth that we could’ve been on rails.
Riding with him felt safe. Solid, and secure. He’d gotten bigger since I’d met him. Harder. The fact that all this hardness was currently nestled between my legs was enough to keep me nice and warm, despite the wind rushing by us.
Not just warm—toasty.
Borderline giddy with heat, actually.
We pulled up to a roadhouse around eight, a place about ten miles short of Okanogan proper. The building wasn’t much to look at—just a dingy white wooden exterior. One or two small windows covered with metal bars. The roof was red metal, slanted to shed the snow, and a flickering neon sign declared it the Starkwood Saloon.
Hmmm… Something told me that Lexi wouldn’t consider this the “somewhere nice” she’d demanded on my behalf.
The Starkwood had been around forever, and it had a bad reputation. I remembered hearing about fights here while I was growing up, and kids whispering about whether or not they checked ID at the door (most said they didn’t, although I’d never had the nerve to try). But Tinker had mentioned once that it had good food, which sounded promising, seeing as food was her business. Sometimes they had dancing, too, and I loved to dance.
The parking lot was definitely full. This seemed like a good sign. There were quite a few motorcycles, but lots of pickup trucks, too. There was even a patio off to one side, hidden behind a wooden privacy fence. That whole area was bright with strings of white Christmas lights.
Rome turned off the engine. I shivered, phantom bike vibrations running through me.
“I know your sister said to take you somewhere nice,” he said, flashing me a quick grin. “And this probably wasn’t what she had in mind. But I figured we don’t have anything high end compared to Missoula, so I went for fun instead. They have a good house band. If I remember right, you love dancing.”
He did remember right. I loved to dance, something that I’d mentioned to him exactly once. Eight years ago. And he’d remembered.
“I’m not really a high maintenance girl,” I replied. “I’ll take dancing over cloth napkins any time.”
We climbed off the bike, which he’d parked in a row of other bikes, one of which had a Reapers MC skull painted on it. The bike looked familiar.
“Is that Gage’s motorcycle?” I asked. The thought intimidated me a little—Tinker’s husband had always been nice to me, but he was kind of scary, too.
“Looks like it,” he said, flashing me a quick grin. “Although I didn’t know he was coming. We all like this place, so it’s not a huge surprise to run into each other. But don’t worry—tonight is about us, not the Reapers.”
“I’m not worried,” I assured him, and it was the truth. Rome might be part of the club, but I hadn’t been imagining the fire in that kiss. He’d come here to be with me tonight. Not his biker friends. And maybe this wasn’t the kind of place Lexi pictured for our date, but it felt like an adventure.
The Starkwood had held nearly mythological status when I’d been growing up, and now I was finally going to see it for myself. And despite its reputation, I felt safe walking next to Rome. As I said, the guy was big—a lot bigger than me—and the way his hand engulfed mine was reassuring.
Like he’d take care of me no matter what.
On an intellectual level, I understood that this was ridiculous. One date eight years ago didn’t mean I knew the guy. Not in any meaningful way. That didn’t change the fact that I felt proud to be standing next to him when we walked through the door.
The place was packed. The band hadn’t started playing yet, but the tables were full of people eating dinner, laughing, and talking. There was a fair number of bikers, but I saw a lot of cowboy hats, too. As we made our way through the room, more than one guy yelled out Rome’s name, and he shared a manly backslap with another beefy guy wearing a fire and rescue shirt.
We found an empty table near the far wall. Menus were stacked in a little rack, and he handed me one, smiling.
“Holy shit, is that you, Randi?” I heard a woman say, and I looked up to find Peaches Taylor standing next to our table. She wore a V-neck Starkwood Saloon T-shirt and a waitress’s apron. Peaches had been one of the most popular girls in high school. I hadn’t, so while we’d grown up together, we’d never really hung out much. But our lockers had been side-by-side senior year, and she’d always been nice and friendly.
Peaches had aged well, all long dark hair and a rack that put mine to shame. Seriously, if my bra was good, hers was spectacular. She wasn’t afraid to put it all out there in that V-neck, either. The girl probably made a fortune in tips. “You must be in town for the reunion tomorrow!”
“Um, yeah, I am,” I said, smiling at her. “I got in a couple days ago. Been visiting the family and stuff.”
She shot a speculative glance at Rome. “I don’t remember him being part of your family.”
I coughed, and Rome started laughing.
“We’re old friends,” he said. Peaches nodded, waiting for him to say more, but he didn’t. He also didn’t check out her chest, which I felt gave him major points. I mean, Peaches’… um, peaches were big enough that even I was having trouble keeping my eyes off of them.
Had she gotten a boob job?
My old classmate seemed to realize she wasn’t going to get any more gossip, because she started rattling off their specials for the night. Spicy Thai chicken pizza, BBQ wings, and some drink called a Smoke Jumper.
“We get all our meat local,” she continued. “And the bread’s fresh every day, too. We got a bacon burger that’ll blow your mind.”
Oh, that sounded good. I shot Rome a quick glance, trying to decide if I wanted to risk eating in front of him. Like, really eating, not just picking at a salad. If I’d been smart, I’d have snagged a snack before we left the house, but I hadn’t ev
en thought of it. Then I decided what the hell, because this was Okanogan. Picking at salads wasn’t really a thing here. The towns might be small, but the beef was excellent.
Heh. Beef. I bet Rome has good beef, my inner perv whispered, and I coughed. Both of them looked at me, and I covered quickly, “I’ll take one of those bacon burgers.”
“Make it two,” Rome added. “Extra fries. You want anything to drink?”
“A Coors Light sounds good,” I told her, even though I hadn’t had one of those in forever. It seemed to fit the atmosphere.
“I’ll take a Coke,” Rome said, and then Peaches flashed us both a smile before hustling back toward the bar.
“No beer?” I asked him, raising a brow. I remembered him drinking when we first met, although not so much that I’d felt uncomfortable riding with him.
“Not tonight,” he said, eyes dark as they traced my face. “There’s this girl I’m trying to impress, and I don’t want to fuck it up. So tell me about the last eight years. Tinker said you went to college after you left. She was real proud of you.”
Oh my God, he asked her about me!
“Um, yeah,” I said. “I went to community college and got trained as a dental hygienist. I sort of figured that I’d use that to support myself while I got a teaching degree, but it turns out I really love working on people’s teeth. It’s tangible, you know? If we do our job right, it makes a huge difference to someone’s overall health, even if they don’t realize how important it is. Not taking care of your teeth can shave years off your life.”
I realized that I’d started to ramble, so I snapped my mouth shut before I started in on gum disease (which I knew from experience wasn’t a huge turn-on during a first date). But Rome’s eyes hadn’t glazed over—he was smiling at me. And my inner hygienist couldn’t help but notice that his teeth appeared to be in excellent condition.
“I feel the same way about being an EMT,” he said. “It’s hard, because you see a lot of bad shit. But we also have the chance to do a lot of good. I like making a difference.”
Peaches came back with our drinks, and I thanked her before taking a long swallow of my beer. I’d gotten used to drinking fancier craft stuff in Missoula, but this was good. Cold and refreshing—almost like water, but with a kick—and it kind of reminded me of going to the rodeo.
“So, how did you get into fire and rescue?” I asked.
“You could say I was born into it,” he said, smiling. “You know smoke jumping was started not far from Hallies Falls, right?”
I laughed. “Yeah, I went on the field trip to see the base camp like every other kid in town.”
“Well, my grandpa was one of the first,” he said. “Right before World War II. Then he got drafted and they sent him jumping out of planes in Europe. After the war, he came back and fought fire until he got too old, and even then he was still training new guys. My dad did, too. I stepped out of a plane for the first time when I was fourteen. Illegal as hell, this side of the border. But the McGuires aren’t real big on following the rules, and we had the connections to make it happen.”
“Wow,” I said, trying to decide if that was crazy or awesome. “I can’t imagine jumping out of a plane as an adult. I think I’d pee my pants or something.”
Rome burst out laughing, and I felt my cheeks go red, because seriously, could I have made a less sexy comment? Of course, I’d just ordered bacon, so my image as a sexy, sophisticated woman of the world was already blown.
“You like riding my bike, don’t you?” he asked, leaning forward on his elbows. I leaned forward, too, until our faces were just a few inches apart.
“Yeah.”
“Well, it’s like that, only a thousand times better. You’re flying through the air and there’s a rush like nothing else on earth, not even a motorcycle. It’s safe, at least when you do it right, but you also know in the back of your mind that there’s just a tiny chance things could go wrong. And your body may be pumped full of adrenaline, but it’s peaceful, and during free fall it’s just you and the whole fuckin’ sky. Better than sex.”
I blinked, startled. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a guy on a date admit that anything’s better than sex.”
Rome’s eyes grew intense and he leaned in closer, holding my gaze prisoner. “Well, to be fair, I haven’t had sex with you yet.”
Heat exploded between my legs, and my breath caught.
“Two bacon burgers!” Peaches announced, and I jumped, flustered. Rome leaned back and thanked her casually, then asked for some ketchup, like he hadn’t just blown my mind.
Holy shit.
I was in over my head. For real.
“Fry?” he asked, holding one out right in front of my mouth. I took a bite. It was hot and thick, crispy on the outside and soft inside, the perfect explosion of grease and salt and everything that was bad for my heart.
Just like Rome McGuire.
Two hours later, I’d had enough beer that I no longer cared whether or not Rome was good for me.
All I cared about was dancing with one very sexy man who seemed to be just as into me as I was into him. The band played a mixture of country and classic rock. I’d been stunned to realize that not only had I remembered how to two-step, but that Rome was pretty damned good at it himself.
He was also good at getting me drinks. Good enough that I’d lost count. Fortunately, I’d stuck with Coors Light, on the theory that you could drink a lot of it without getting drunk. Being near him was intoxicating enough without throwing hard liquor into the mix.
The night was a blur for the most part, but at some point I remembered running into Tinker, my old boss. She was here with her husband, Gage, who was Rome’s club president. I’d always found him sort of terrifying, but tonight he was dancing and laughing with Tinker like he wasn’t some super scary badass who probably did all sorts of criminal things for a living.
Rome had introduced me to several of his club brothers, too, although we hadn’t accepted their offer to join them. Nope, he’d stayed entirely focused on me throughout the evening.
The guy was so intense it was almost scary.
Well, scary until the beer kicked in, and then any concerns I might’ve had sort of drifted away. My booze-infused logic went like this—if he was going to bail because I was dorky or silly, I’d be gone already, so I might as well enjoy and be myself.
The whole dork thing didn’t seem to bother Rome, though, because when the band started playing a slower song, he pulled me in tight against his body. This felt even nicer than riding with him on the bike. I leaned against his shoulder, taking in his scent and wondering if it would be weird if I licked his neck.
Given the way his hand had started to move slowly down my back toward my ass, I decided he’d be okay with it. The lights were dim, and when I closed my eyes, it almost felt like we were the only ones in the room. Every part of me was coming alive, and when his fingers gave my butt a squeeze, I let my tongue flicker out, tasting him.
Oh, that was nice. His skin held a hint of salt, and I felt his pulse quickening. But that wasn’t the only thing I could feel. Something stirred against my stomach. Something long and hard.
Rome wanted me.
The evidence was right there, pulsing against me as his grip tightened. I felt my nipples growing perky inside that perfect push-up bra, and more than a little tingling between my legs. I nipped at his neck as we swayed, then started nuzzling.
Suddenly he grabbed my hand and all but dragged me off the dance floor toward the shadows at the end of the bar. The whole thing startled me out of my sensual daze, confusing me. I’d pretty much convinced myself that I should hook up with him for the night, but I wanted to dance more, too. He caught my shoulders and spun me around, backing me up against the wall.
Now Rome’s bulk surrounded my body. He rested one hand on either side of my face, pinning me despite the fact that our bodies weren’t actually touching. Then his eyes caught and held mine. Holy shit. The intensity in his gaz
e was terrifying.
Like he wanted to eat me alive.
“You have no goddamn idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” he said, his voice so low I could hardly make out the words over the music. Heat rolled off him in waves. I blinked, wondering how a girl was supposed to respond to something like this. It was like staring into a fire. I licked my lips, trying to decide my next move. His eyes followed the movement, mesmerized.
Then I leaned forward, catching Rome’s lips with mine.
* * * *
Rome
Randi kissed me.
Fucking hell, I hadn’t seen that coming—she’d always been a shy little thing. But that was eight years ago, and apparently she’d lost some of that shyness somewhere along the way. Wasn’t sure if I liked that idea or not. Meant she’d been practicing with someone else.
But when her lips opened against mine, I didn’t stop to analyze the situation.
Nope.
I just took what was offered, shoving my tongue deep inside, taking everything she’d give me. Not that it was enough. Kissing was great, but it was only the first step toward what I really needed.
Her cunt wrapped tight around my dick.
She raised a hand, curling her fingers into my hair, and my cock nearly burst my jeans. I’d been so careful all night. A perfect fucking gentleman, dancing the goddamned two-step when what I really wanted was to shove her over the nearest table and fuck her ’til she screamed.
And whether she was ready to admit it or not, Randi wanted the same thing.
I’d felt her shivering when my dick poked her stomach. Hell of a turn-on, but not a surprise. We’d always had that kind of chemistry, right from the first moment I’d seen her, years ago. The girl had been sneaking up to the keg like she was getting away with something, laughing and giggling with her friends.