Thrasher turned left down the alley, between two old, abandoned buildings, without missing a step. Five, ten, fifteen steps into the vacant area, and he turned and pinned her against the wall. He squeezed the cords of her throat.

"You’ve got twenty seconds to explain yourself, and then I will kill you." He grazed the shell of her ear with his lips.

She struggled to swallow. "Ch-Cheddar c-caught."

Thrasher eased up on her neck and leaned his head back to get a better view of the woman. "Who are you?"

"I ..." She closed her eyes, seeming to gather her thoughts or maybe to deliver more air to her lungs. Her lashes fluttered, and her eyes opened. She stared directly into his with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. "Jo-Johanna."

"Where’s Cheddar now?" He loosened his grip but remained pressed tight against her, holding her to the brick wall. Despite the danger in talking to her, his body enjoyed her much softer, feminine curves.

"Dead."

Dammit.

"Please. You have to take me with you." Her hands clutched at the sides of his shirt. "I must leave the city."

He stepped back, flung her arms off him, and ran his hands through his hair.

"I have money. I can take Cheddar’s place." She grabbed his shirtsleeve, not letting him retreat. "I know about the rogues’ camp farther away. I friended Cheddar months ago when he started coming into town. I’d helped him sneak out the store many times so that he wouldn’t get caught." She lowered her voice. "I must leave today, with or without your help." She stepped forward, wringing her hands. "Please, I cannot stay ..."

"No."

Thrasher expected her to pout, to plead her case, even use tears to convince him to take her along with him outside the borders and to the rogues. His gut tightened, and he frowned. What she did was the complete opposite.

She lifted her dainty chin and removed her hands from his shirt. "I am useful."

He lowered his gaze to her breasts. They were large and firm, and her nipples strained against her shirt. She packed her clothes nicely, with enough curves to attract any man’s attention. Not too skinny, her body reminded him how he’d lived the past year, destitute and alone, without any comfort from the opposite sex.

"Say yes." She stepped closer. "Please. I’ll do anything ..."

Drake moved away from her and hunted for the bag she brought from home. He hat to put distance between them-before he did something he’d regret.

"As much as I have enjoyed gazing upon your lovely body today, you, my princess, are starting to get sunburned." He handed her a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. "Here you go. It shouldn’t be too hot to wear while we are out on the water."

Celina caught the clothes to her chest and stood up. "But—"

"What?" Drake moved back, out of reach.

Celina stepped forward. "That look on your face. You do want to kiss me, yes?" she asked.

Drake shuffled backward, threw his head back and laughed.

"Celina, I would love to kiss you, but if I did we wouldn’t stop there. It wouldn’t be fair to you." Or me.

Celina scurried over to stand by Drake again. "It would be fair, Drake. I want the kiss." She stood on her toes and lowered her voice. "Despite what you think, I know what to do."

"You do?" His breath came out on a shaky laugh, and he wanted to kick himself for even questioning her. She had no idea what she was walking into with him.

"I know how to do lots of things." She held on to his arms. "I know over two hundred positions to make you climax stronger than if you have sex with an untrained American woman. I can do it for you." She leaned into him. "I’m rather good with the lessons."

Drake captured her lips with his own, and pulled her body tight against him. A groan came through Drake’s mouth and vibrated on Celina’s lips. He urged her to open her mouth and take everything he offered her in one kiss. Without thinking, he lifted one of her legs and wrapped it around his thigh. He was aware of her petite size and soft curves against his bigger body. Her heartbeat pulsed against his chest as he deepened the kiss.

He hadn’t meant to do this. He’d wanted to show her how she was in over her head with him…that this was a game she couldn’t win.

Drake drew her up closer, so he could feel the soft warm imprint of her breasts against him, her thighs pressed against his. He traced her soft mouth with his lips, and finally with the tip of his tongue. She moaned and broke away from the kiss.

In the space of a few seconds, their passion had grown unmanageable. He had her pressed up against the sudden hardness of his body, and as she came to the realization of his need to have her, he pulled her back before she had time to think about what they were doing.

Drake sucked her bottom lip between his. Celina gasped. The little minx moved her body in a rhythm he recognized. He moaned and decided if he didn’t stop now, he’d hate himself later.

Drake straightened up and set Celina back on her feet. He ran his hands through his hair.

"Can we do that again?" She reached her arms out for him.
 

"Margarine Butter, will you ride with me…?" He looked at her and winked. "On my motorcycle."

She laughed, and the sound trickled over him like a caress.

"Yes, Remy. I'll ride with you…" Margarine returned the wink, "on your motorcycle."

They arrived home, separating only long enough for Margarine and Remy to retreat to their respected bedrooms to change into something more comfortable to wear for the night. He planned to remove everything soon anyway, if things worked out right.

Once in the living room, he sprawled out on the couch in a pair of jeans and a well-worn tee shirt, his bare feet propped up on the coffee table. He smiled at Margie.

"I don't know what I like better. You all dressed up, or seeing you now with your hair in a ponytail, wearing Hello Kitty pajamas." He grinned, amazed that kitty nightwear ranked higher for him than lingerie.

"Hey, don't be knockin' my PJs. I happen to like them." Margie claimed the other end of the couch, stretched her feet out, and planted them on Remy's lap.

He handed the television control to Margie and placed his hands on her feet. To his delight, she sported not one, but two toe rings. His lip twitched. She brought out a bunch of firsts for him. First, kitty pajamas, and now a foot fetish that got his juices primed. Damned if those bright red toenails and toe rings didn't tempt him into a planting a kiss on her dainty feet.

Margie flipped through the television channels, but with Remy's hands doing their magic on her feet, she couldn’t care less about what played on the idiot box.

"Mm…" Margie laid her head on the back of the couch. She closed her eyes and let the tingles travel through her body.

"You know you owe me a kiss?" She kept her eyes closed.

"I do?"

Did he tease her, or really forget he promised her a kiss? She opened one eye. "You promised tonight that before I went to bed you would give me a kiss."

"Hmm." Remy continued his manipulation on her feet.

"You can do it now." Margie frowned.

"Do what now?"

"Give me a kiss." She threw one of the couch pillows at his head and missed.

"Give you a kiss?"

Margie lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye. Sometimes the man appeared too aloof. "Yes!"

"Nope." He ran his finger up the arch of her foot.

Margie attempted to pull her feet off his lap, but Remy held on tight. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. The distasteful evening slipped from her mind, as Remy’s touch brought her back to the moment.

"Not yet, anyway." He switched from the arch of her foot to running his finger between her toes. "In a while, after I enjoy playing with your feet, and you tell me a little about yourself."

"About me?" Margie's voice rose, and her stomach tightened up. The last thing she wanted brought up was her past. "There's nothing to tell."

"Sure there is. How about I ask you a question, and then you can ask me a question in return?"

The man's fingers on her body made it hard to follow the conversation. A sigh escaped her. Remy ran his thumb along her arch. How was she supposed to concentrate on evading his questions about her past, if all she could think about was the way his hands were traveling farther up her leg?

She sighed. "Okay."

"Where were you born?"

That's an easy one. "Sacramento, California."

"Your turn. Ask away." Remy's fingers circled her ankles.

"If you could have one wish, right this minute, what would it be?"

"To have you in my bed."

Margie’s head swam. He was so different than any other guy she’d dated. Most guys she knew obsessed with getting her in bed. On dates, she ended up worn out by the end of the evening from the constant slaps she delivered to trespassing hands. Not Remy. He put everything on the table and spoke the truth.

"Why haven't you tried?"

"Is that your question?" He cocked an eyebrow. "You only get one turn, remember?"

"This is childish, Remy." She crossed her arms and leaned back again.

"Have patience, sweetheart."

She shook her head. Maybe she would ask how he gained so much control over himself. Or, cut to the chase, and find out what she really wanted to know.

"Tell me…" She pulled her feet off Remy's lap and curled her legs so she sat on her feet facing him, "about your relationship with Gloria."

There. The invisible person with them this evening brought out into the open. She would sense if he was anything but truthful with her.

Remy tilted his head back. "Ah, Gloria. I was wondering if you were going to question my relationship with her. We grew up together. Our parents were best friends and not-so-secretly wished that their two children would someday join and unite our families."

"Did you love her?" she asked.

"In a way. I don't believe it was the kind of love you have for someone you see yourself wanting for the rest of your life. We were comfortable with each other and pretty much fell into being a couple."

"But you separated?" She leaned her elbows on her knees.

"Yes. I knew I wasn't happy with Gloria, so I broke off our engagement."

"How long ago?"

Remy pulled her hand, and she tumbled over to his side of the couch. She let him snuggle.

"I owe you two questions, since you asked out of turn." Remy flicked her nose with his finger.

Margie snorted. She wanted to do other things than play this game. It reminded her of the Truth or Dare challenges Reefer and Crowbar used to talk her into participating in.

"Fine. Ask away." She stuck out her lower lip.

"First question. Can I kiss you?"

She closed her eyes and nodded. Finally!

Remy's lips touched hers. Gentle and soft, he explored every centimeter of her mouth. It was one of those kisses where a person slows down and shows experience; a sensual dance of the lips.

The stubble of his whiskers grazed her face, and she raised her hand to touch more of him. Tiny jolts of electricity filled her lower stomach and she sagged against him. The warmth of his lips ignited her body.

Remy nudged her with his tongue to open her mouth. She parted her lips, enough to accept the gentle swipe of his tongue against hers. The ball of fire in the pit of her belly ruptured and spread out into every hidden spot inside of her body.

She opened her mouth wider and moaned. Her neck stretched and drove her closer to Remy.

Remy's hand entwined in her hair at her nape, and Margie let him take control of the kiss. She yearned for more, yet every time she urged him, he held back.

He removed his mouth, hovered above her lips, and stared into her eyes. She licked her lips to savor the taste of him.

"Please…" she whispered.

"Not yet." He rubbed his cheek along her neck.

"Yes. Now."

She flopped back and laid across the tank, her arms spread wide over the handlebars, and giggled. He grinned at her tinkling laughter.
 
Sweet Jesus, give me strength.
 
"Oh, Reefer, you have no idea." She lost the smile on her lips and stared at the stars. "Have you ever been alone and gazed up at the sky?"
 
He cleared his throat, trying to concentrate on what she was saying and not on the sandy brown skin on her stomach that her shirt didn't cover. "Yeah."
 
"My whole life I've searched that same sky. I gazed into darkness, but I connected with something much bigger that let me know I had a place in this world. I learned someone walked the earth beside me, but hadn't shown himself to me yet." She sat up. "I believe that person is you."
 
He shook his head in denial. "Sarah—"
 
"No, don't say it." She placed her finger on his lips. "Remember, I told you I expect nothing from you. These are my thoughts, the dreams I'm made from." She tapped her chest with the palm of her hand. "I know this ends tonight, but I want this moment to last me a lifetime."
 
"I don't get involved with someone not from the biker lifestyle, at least not seriously. I'm sorry." Now that he'd spoken the words, a sense of guilt hit him.
 
"I figured. I actually know quite a lot about bikers." She grinned. "Plus, if you shirked your beliefs, I'd think less of you." She stole a quick kiss. "You, Reefer, are the real deal."

Bobby nuzzled her neck and worked his way up to her ear. "Let me change the question. What sort of things do you wish for?"
 
He expected her to think right now? "Mm. I don't know. World peace, a cure for cancer, and something frivolous...maybe winning the lottery."
 
His tongue slithered below her ear, and the warmth of his breath melted away her ability to hold her head up. "What do you wish for, Bobby?"
 
"This."
 
He turned her face toward him and captured her lips. Her body quivered. Mm...that was my wish too.
 
His kiss drove her mad with desire, and she wanted those same lips to explore more of her body. He moved too slowly; she wanted him fast and now. A wild urge to abandon all self-control and submit to this ranger man tonight hit her hard.
 
Samantha's breath came hot and heavy. She used her lips to urge him for more, to touch her body, and take everything she wanted to give him. She craved all his attention.
 
"Come to the bedroom with me?" She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck.
 
"Which way?" He lifted his head long enough to see where Samantha pointed and picked her up in his arms.
 
He delivered her to the bedroom in a few strides and lowered her to the floor to stand on her own two feet. She unbuttoned the top two eyelets on her blouse, and Bobby pushed her hands away.
 
"Let me," he insisted, working at the next button.
 
Samantha's head fell back. Her hair cascaded down her back, giving him access to her upper body. The heat of his fingers seared her skin all the way down. She burned inside, and wanted nothing more than to shed her clothes and experience the inferno building up within the very base of her.
 
She lowered her head, and her hands gravitated toward Bobby's buckle above his wonderful package that had captivated her attention earlier at the café. With confidence, she pulled his belt out of all the loops on his jeans with one quick tug. The thunk of it hitting the wall brought a smile to her mouth. Finally, she was getting those pants of his off.
 
Once free of clothing, Samantha sat back on the edge of the bed. She reclined on her elbows, widened her legs, and opened herself up for his perusal. She gazed at the expression on his face. His eyes darkened as he ripped open a condom, and Samantha anxiously waited for him to join her on the bed.
 
Bobby groaned and ran his hand over his belly. He stalked toward her, gently laid her back, and claimed her mouth.