Page 51 of Good at Being Bad (Rock Canyon, Idaho 8)

“Your leather from head to toe. Do you have a ball gag in your pocket, too?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Ellie said.

“It would be pretty easy to find out, I think.” He held his fingers up and wiggled them.

She pushed past him and approached the bike. “Come on, let’s get going. This place gets into full swing around ten and it will take at least that long to get there.”

“Where are we going?” He came up alongside her as she strapped on her helmet, noting her evil grin.

“There’s a biker bar south

of Fairfield that’s supposed to be awesome.”

“What’s wrong with Buck’s?” he asked.

“We’ve already swum those murky waters and ended up with bubkis.” As she straddled his bike, she patted the seat in front of her. “Come on. Let’s make this baby purr.”

I’d rather make you purr.

The image that popped into his head of Ellie stretched out on his bed, purring like a cat as he touched her, made his dick hurt as it stretched against his boxers and jeans. As Mike climbed onto the bike and pulled on his helmet, he also adjusting his dick discreetly.

“Problem?” she asked.

Was it just him or did she sound almost too sweet?

“No, I’m good, but if you want a biker bar, I might have something a little closer.”

He fired up the motorcycle before she could argue and headed out of town. As Mike took the back roads to Bliss, he tried not to think of how good her hands felt over his T-shirt. Every once in a while, she seemed to run her nails across the light cotton, sending shivers down his spine.

By the end of the twenty-minute ride, his cock was straining against the front of his jeans and every time she snuggled her curves closer to his back, all he could think about was burying it inside her.

When he parked in front of Desperados, he took off his helmet and turned on the bike to look at her.

“You sure you want to go in?”

The outside of the bar was painted black and motorcycles lined the front of the building. He waited to see if she’d swallow or fidget, anything to say she was nervous, but she just took off the helmet and leaned forward until her chin rested on his shoulder.

“You scared?”

Her teasing mouth was so close he nearly closed the distance. It wasn’t like she was attached.

What happened to professional business deal? Or this ending badly?

Loud, raucous laughter broke through the moment and she swung off, leaving him cursing silently. He followed her to the door, where a burly bald guy with a pierced lip looked Ellie over like a wolf would a lamb.

Mike stood up straighter, and gave him a warning look.

“ID?” Bald Guy asked, taking hers then Mike’s. When he handed them back, they walked through the doors and loud, country rock blared over the speakers. They headed for the bar, and pushed to the front until Ellie stood next to a short blonde and Mike was pressed into her back.

The blonde glanced their way and he recognized Stacy, the woman who thought he had an STD. He could thank Ellie for that lie.

“Mike! Hey,” she said, awkwardly over the music. She glanced at Ellie and her eyes widened.

“Hey, Stacy. You remember Ellie?”

“Yeah, I do.” Stacy frowned at her, but Ellie smiled in return.

“Sorry for scaring you off Mike. He really doesn’t have any weird spots—at least, none that I know of.”