“Oh,” I mumbled, finding this both interesting and his telling of it sweet. Then I asked, “What’s that red car you’re working on?” and when I did, Tack burst out laughing.

I lifted my head and looked at him through the dark. “What’s funny?”

“Babe, you goin’ to sleep or we gonna have a conversation in the dark?”

“I thought we were getting to know each other.”

“We are and we did, in a lot of ways, Red. You provin’ you can ride me even harder and faster than that first night we had together bein’ my favorite part. But now I’m wiped. You wanna talk, store that shit up and we’ll do it at my place tomorrow night.”

“You’re wiped?”

I felt his hand land on my face, his palm at my jaw, fingers light on my cheek and he replied, “Two nights ago, I f**ked up and hurt a woman I’d come to care about. I been waiting for this morning, hopin’ you’d roll up to Ride and I wouldn’t have to hunt you down. But if you were really pissed at me in a way I couldn’t fix, this morning could have gone different. Thinkin’ on that and all the other shit swirling in my life, the last two nights I haven’t slept all that great. But I ate good, I just came hard, I’m in your bed, you like me here and you called me honey so I’m thinkin’ tonight’s my night. That is, if you’d shut up and let me sleep.”

“I’ll shut up and let you sleep,” I offered immediately because I liked all of that and I liked it most of all.

And what I liked best of that most of all was knowing that he was worried I wouldn’t forgive him and if I hadn’t come to Ride, he was going to find me.

He wasn’t going to let me go.

I did matter.

“So, you gonna settle in and let me sleep or you gonna stare at me in the dark while I do that?” he asked when I didn’t move and kept staring at him in the dark.

“I’ll settle,” I whispered then did what I told him I’d do.

I was looking at the shadowed planes of his chest, feeling warm and fuzzy and I’d been doing this for a while when Tack muttered, “Every day, somethin’ new. Will I ever get to the heart of you?”

I pulled in a deep breath.

Damn, but I liked that too and the part I liked was it sounded like he both wanted to and didn’t but either way would be fine with him.

“I don’t know. No one has ever tried,” I answered quietly.

“Well, darlin’, gratitude. ‘Cause you just ensured I’ll sleep good knowin’ I’m the first man who gets that shot.”

That made me turn my head, press my face in his skin and deep breathe to control happy tears.

“Fuck me, she really can’t handle sweet,” he muttered to the ceiling.

“So stop doing it,” I suggested.

“Not a chance,” he returned.

God, I hoped not.

I really, really did.

* * * * *

My eyes opened to the early dawn light weakly shining through the curtains and dimly lighting the room.

And what I saw was Tack’s chest and his tats.

We were in the same position we’d fallen asleep in, me tucked tight to his side, cheek cushioned by his shoulder, his arm wrapped around me, mine wrapped around his gut.

We hadn’t moved, either of us, all night.

I liked that. So much my hand slid up his side, over his chest and to his neck where my fingers curled around but my thumb moved out to glide along the stubble next to the edge of his goatee. As I did this, I turned my head to kiss his shoulder. Then, with the tip of my tongue, I trailed a path to his nipple where I let my tongue swirl.

He tasted great.

His arm around my waist tightened and I lifted my head just enough to see his sleepy, sexy, already heated blue eyes on me.

“You need to get down to business,” I whispered and his eyes went from heated to hot.

Then his other arm locked around me. He rolled me to my back and he did what he needed to do, proving Elvira right.

Biker boys knew how to live.

Chapter Nineteen

Except Better

“Oh lordy, stop talking.”

This demand came from Elvira and when it did, the table full of women at Club burst out laughing. This was because I’d just explained precisely Tack’s ability to give pleasure. And I did this because I was highly inebriated.

It was Wednesday night and we were at Club.

The last two days I’d spent in the office at Ride’s garage dealing with work and man drama. As far as the work was concerned, it wasn’t like I was gone two days. It was like I was gone two weeks.

And, kid you not, men were crazier than women. Each mechanic and body guy’s life was like a soap opera and they did not leave it at home. Over donuts and coffee, they were in my office telling me about it. Breaking up with women, making up with them, juggling two at a time (or three and, in one case, four), exes entering the picture, hysterical pregnancies, real pregnancies, STD scares, women who didn’t “get them”, skanky ‘ho’s they fell for and who stole from them, financial troubles, car troubles (yes, mechanics had car troubles!), family troubles.

It wore me out just listening to it. Then again, I’d been listening to it for two weeks, they’d broken me in early so I figured one day, I’d get used to it.

And going to Tack’s house after work the night before was no less exhausting.

The good thing was, riding on the back of Tack’s bike with Tack was phenomenal. I’d ridden on the back of a bike before but I’d never done it with a man who I could press close to and hold tight.

It. Was. Awesome.

The other good thing was that Tack had a fantastic house. He lived on a quiet, secluded lot up in the foothills, his house built into the mountains and nearly the whole front was a deck that had spectacular views. You walked into an open entryway that fed to the left into a big comfortable living room that jutted out past the deck. Straight off the entryway was a big kitchen with views to the deck and beyond. The house was long, three bedrooms (one Tabby’s, one an office and one Tack’s master that had its own bath) and bathroom all off one side down a hall. The other side had more windows with Tack’s spectacular views.

What surprised me was that it didn’t scream Biker! Not that I would know what that was, just that it didn’t look rough and tumble and lived in and mostly filthy like the Chaos Compound. Just lived in. It wasn’t tidy but it was relatively clean and the kitchen was clearly used but immaculate. The furniture in the living room had been chosen for comfort only, wide seats, slouchy cushions, lots of throws and toss pillows, all inviting you to take a load off.