What would it be like to run my hands over that chiseled body? To feel the power of his massive body over mine? Or under mine?
I slip my fingers between my legs and moan softly when they make contact. I pretend my fingers are Deke’s giant ones. How would he touch me? Would he be rough? Or gentle?
Somehow I’m sure he’d be gentle. A big guy like him would’ve learned restraint with a woman. I bet he’d know exactly how to touch me. I’ll bet he wouldn’t critique my performance the way Scott used to.
Ugh. I don’t want to think of Scott ever again.
Maybe he’s what I need to move on. I’m sure he’s not looking for a girlfriend. Especially not with someone like me. And we wouldn’t work anyway—I mean, my dad would never accept a guy like him for me.
But maybe we could hook up. A wild fling to help me get back into the dating scene.
I roll over to my belly, my fingers still working between my legs. The idea has me all hot and bothered. I bite my pillow and wriggle my hips over my hand.
I’m not even embarrassed when I croak, “Deke!” into the bedcovers when I come.
Chapter 3
Sadie
I go to the plaza early the next evening, before the music has even started. I stake out one of the tables and set down the plastic-covered platter of motorcycle-shaped sugar cookies I baked for Deke as a thank you. But I’m too nervous to sit. I stand behind the chair, shifting from foot to foot with my filmy skirt swirling around my legs. I’m all dressed up today in a yellow cotton sundress and stylish suede booties. As always, I brought my white cardigan in case it gets cold, but with the dress’ deep v-neck and flirty hem, my outfit is on the risque side of “kindergarten teacher chic.” Especially because I’m wearing the large hoop earrings Tabitha gave me. “Sexy and I know it” earrings, she calls them.
The band sets up, plugging things in and testing amps. One of the guitarists strums his electric bass, and the amp barks then squeals. A few rowdy tourists on the restaurant’s patio holler back, but the crowd around the small stage and on the lawn starts to grow. People spread blankets out and open containers of food.
Deke isn’t here yet, but I didn’t think he’d get here early. I honestly don't know if he’ll show up at all. Surely he has more important things to do than hang out in the plaza with me. I looked up Black Wolf Security online, but there’s almost nothing about it. Their website is a black page with their wolf logo and nothing else. I bet Deke made it. It is so him.
The business license is registered to a PO Box in Taos. I’m tempted to ask Charlie to look into it, but then she’ll know, and for now, I want to keep Deke my dirty little secret. Not that we’ve done anything dirty.
Unfortunately.
Yet.
When the music finally starts, I take a seat and check my phone. Scott did text me today but only twice. Are you seriously seeing that guy? he asked around midday. I waited until my bathroom break to text back my one word reply. “Yes.” Technically, I am seeing Deke. Hopefully, he’ll show up for the band like he said.
Scott’s reply made my stomach clench. What would your father say? He always knew how to stick the knife in.
I tuck my phone away. Screw him. Screw them both. I don’t want to think about what my father would say. Dad approved of Scott, no question. Whenever we went out to dinner together, always at the nicest restaurants in Taos, the two of them hogged the conversation, talking over me. I always suspected Scott dated me because my father’s on the town council and well-connected. I didn’t think it was the main reason, but looking back, I’m not so sure. Scott never seemed satisfied dating me. His cheating on me drove that home.
Is Deke the sort of guy who cheats? He’s so hot, with epic levels of masculine bad-assery. I can’t imagine him meeting a heterosexual woman who didn’t swoon over him and offer up her panties in tribute.
But the way he looked at me, the intensity in his eyes...it made me feel like the only woman in the world.
I’m probably wrong. Deke’s probably a player. But I’m willing to be another notch on his bedpost. That motorcycle ride is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in a long time. Maybe ever.
No—not happened to me.
I made it happen. I think that’s half the excitement there.
The other half is definitely the extremely fit biker who drove it.
Up on stage, the band is rocking out. The sun is setting, and there’s a good crowd for a Thursday night.
“Is this seat taken?” a woman asks me, her fingers already curling on the seat’s back, ready to carry it away. She has long pink fingernails, tight jeans and a low cut black top. Why didn’t I wear an outfit like that? She looks more like a biker babe than I ever will.
“Yes, it’s taken,” I tell her, jealousy making my voice sharp. She rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she struts away. I can almost hear her thoughts about me, but I don’t care. It’s nice to not be nice all the time.
“He’ll show up,” I whisper to myself. I’m sitting with my legs crossed primly at the ankle, my hands folded in my lap like a good little kindergarten teacher. My hair is tied back with a bow, for frick’s sake.
I rise and tug off the bow, shaking out my hair. That’s when I sense him. The hairs rise on the back of my neck, and the scent of motor oil and leather hits me.
I turn and scan the crowd but don’t see Deke at first. But I know he’s here.
And then he appears, stepping out of the shadows and striding towards me. There’s a group of sexy snow bunny types standing in his path. They poke each other and stare at Deke, wide-eyed. But he doesn’t even glance at them as he heads straight toward me. He’s got that intense look again, the one that makes me shiver. I feel a little like I’m being hunted.
“Babe.” He uses the word to convey whole sentences. I just have to decipher what they mean. He strolls right up to me. For a big guy, he moves with grace, prowling like a panther. He’s wearing the same sort of outfit he wore before, dark jeans and a soft white t-shirt that clings to his abs. Big motorcycle boots.
My mouth waters.
He’s so gosh darn hot. And I baked him cookies. What was I thinking?
“Deke. You came.” I step in front of the table, hoping he won’t see the cookie tray.
Of course, he spots it immediately. “What are these?” He reaches around me and touches the plastic.
“Um, just a little thank you. You know, for yesterday.”
“You baked me cookies?”
“Yes.”
“Babe,” he says again and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thank you.” He doesn’t smile, but his dark gaze smolders. Up close, he’s overwhelmingly sexy. My thighs clench, and I stifle a whimper.
“It’s nothing.” I turn away and fiddle with the plastic wrap around the cookie tray. “I owed you.”
“Yeah?” He cocks his head to the side, still totally focused on me. The young women still gawk at Deke, and he hasn’t even noticed.
I swallow and step closer, so I don’t have to shout over the music. “For last night. You’re my hero.”
His forehead creases. “I am not a hero.”