Hard Rider

“I wouldn’t put it past you to try.”

He smirked. “No, I’m here to tell you that you are going to steal that car by the weekend. If you don’t, then things will get ugly.”

“How many times do I have to tell-”

“She sure is a pretty girl, isn’t she?”

I saw red, but I knew I couldn’t charge.

“Works down at the Hawthorne building, doesn’t she?” he continued.

“You better stay the hell away from her,” I growled. “I swear, if you even think about-”

“Don’t say something you can’t back up,” he warned. “Because I’ve already thought about it. Not only have I thought about it, but my people have information on where she lives, too. The girl keeps a pretty tight schedule so it’s not hard to find her.”

“You fuckin’ scumbag. If you touch her-”

“We won’t have to get to that point if you just do your job. There’s no reason for this to get ugly.”

Riley had been through enough. I couldn’t even think about getting her mixed up in something like this, especially after what she’d just been through.

“Alright,” I said. “Whatever you want.”

He seemed surprised but he tried to hide it. “Good. I’m glad you’re thinking with a clear head now. And, you know what I want. That car needs to be in one of my garages by Saturday.”

He climbed off the motorcycle and offered it to me. His men stepped back.

“If I do this job… are we square?” It was more of a statement than a question. We were square.

Ortiz nodded slowly. “Do this for me and you can go about your happy life. Maybe even marry that girl,” he grinned. “I know I would.”

I bared my teeth but thought better of saying anything. There was no use. I just had to get this done.

Riley

There was something different about him tonight. He was still as charming as ever—I didn’t think he could hide that if he tried—but there was a darkness in his eyes. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. Something weighed heavy on his mind, even though he denied it.

I tried to keep myself from speculating. If he’d slipped up, I probably didn’t want to know about it. The image of that gun popped into my head again. I thought about asking him if he still had it.

“Troy, do you… do you want another glass?” I held the wine bottle up but he waved me off with a smile. I’d save the tougher questioning for later.

“What are you gonna do now?” he asked. “I mean, you only have, what, three days left at the office?”

“Two,” I corrected. “Two more days.”

Troy laughed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a longer sentence than you deserved.”

“And, what am I going to do? I guess… whatever I want. I don’t know, I’ve never really had any free time. Maybe I’ll take up fighting,” I teased.

“You’re mean enough to be good at it,” he fired back.

“Hey!”

I playfully tossed a couch pillow at him. He swatted it away. “You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to beat me.” He was relaxing in my love seat with his leg hung over the side.

“Oh, yeah? What about this?” I leapt out of my chair and did what I could only describe as a cannon ball toward the center of his chest. When I landed on him, it felt like hitting a brick wall. He was firm from head to toe. There was hardly any fat on him.

Troy’s strong arms wrapped around my shoulders. He gave a squeeze tighter than a boa constrictor. His chest pressed into my back so hard you couldn’t get us apart with a crow bar. “Okay,” he said. “You’re in a bad spot now, what do you do?”

I tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he held tight.

“No, not like that. You’re wasting your energy.”

I fought harder.

“You’re not gonna be able to break out of my grip. One of the first rules of ground fighting is that you never let someone take your back.” I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear him smiling.

Little did he know, I had him right where I wanted him.

I pulled my elbow in a torqued my body so I could turn.

“Good,” he cheered. “You want to create some space between us so you can turn to face me.”

Using my forearm against his tone abs, I did just that. My hips turned and I was laying on top of him with my nose buried in his neck. The rough stubble on his face grazed my cheek in a way that made me tingle.

“Now, what do I do?” I asked, getting into the role.

“You’re on top. That’s a good thing.”

You have no idea.

“Now, you want to try to get past my guard.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you need to get your legs up past my hips, kinda like you’re gonna ride me. It’s called the ‘mount’ position.”

This was getting better by the minute.

“But be careful,” he warned. “If you don’t protect your neck, you’ll give me something to attack.”

Oh, please attack my neck.

I bucked hard and tried to get my legs over his, but he was too strong. He moved so fluidly from position to position that it made me gain a better appreciation for what he did. It wasn’t just about two guys going in there and swinging at each other until one of them fell down—there was an art to this.

I reached across his body to try to leverage myself up, and that’s where he caught me. Troy pushed my arm across my face and spun me like a top. I laid sideways between his legs as he wrapped an arm around me.

“Now you fucked up,” he whispered. “I told you to protect your neck.”

I instinctively grabbed for his bicep, which was pressed firmly against my carotid artery. I felt oddly cozy in his death grip.

“Feel that?” he asked, flexing the arm that had me.

“It’s scary,” I said.

“I know it is. When this is cinched up tight,” he said, bouncing his arm under my chin for effect, “it only takes a couple of seconds to lose consciousness.”

Troy let go of my neck, but kept my body pinned against his. “That’s intense,” I said.

“Jiu jitsu is actually a great self-defense tool for women,” he said. “The basic principles are all about leverage and positioning. It’s designed so that a person can control someone much larger than themselves.”

“Maybe you can teach me more someday.”

He grinned as wide as the ocean. “I’ll wrestle with you whenever you want me to.”

I pushed myself up and kissed him softly on the corner of the mouth. “Don’t get my hopes up.”

Troy cradled my chin in his hand as he propped himself up on one elbow. He was studying me like he wanted to ask something. There was a brief moment where I thought he was going to, but he shook it away and got that mischievous look again, instead.

I closed my eyes and felt the firm pressure from his lips on my neck. He kissed me just below the ear. Then, I turned into him as he slid down and nipped at my collarbone.

It was a shameful thought, but the question that had been rattling around in my head about him getting into more trouble was only making things that much hotter. It was an awful thing to think about, and if he did have another scrape with the law I didn’t think I’d be able to trust him, but the fantasy of it made me so horny.

Troy pushed my tank top straps down and bit my shoulder lightly. My rigid nipples showed beneath the thin fabric.

“I want you so bad,” he whispered. “I can’t get enough of you. I think about you all the time.”