Twisted Desire (The Twisted Series) (7 page)

“Thanks.  Do you mind if I get going?”

Mitchell tilts his head and smiles.  “Sure.  Of
course.  Thanks, Ally.  You’re a good friend.”  He reaches out
to hug her, not noticing the murderous glare coming from his girlfriend behind
him.

Aliah accepts the bear hug and waves goodbye as she walks
toward the exit.

“Oh.  Wait!  Aliah.  I found this on the
floor behind the bar earlier.  Is it yours?”  Mitchell strolls toward
her and holds out the ripped business card.

“Um.  Yeah.”

“I didn’t want to throw it out in case it was important to
you.”

“Thanks, Mitch.  You’re a lifesaver.”  She flashes
him a golden smile, and snatches the scrap of paper with Harley’s number
printed on it.  “See you later.”

Mitchell walks her to the door.  “Do you want me to
walk you out?”

“I’ll be okay.  I doubt Brandee would like that very
much.  Thanks, though.”

Mitchell hangs his head, and sighs.  “She’ll come
around, Ally.  She just has to get to know you better.”

“Doubt it.  But it’s all good.  I’ll catch you
later.”

“Okay, lady.  Have a good one.”

She walks outside, only wishing she’d find Harley out there so
she wouldn’t have to contemplate giving him a call.  Now she is truly
dreaming.  Despite her sureness of Harley not being there, she hurries
across the road and stops, scouring the parking lot for a motorcycle.  At
the very back of the lot, right near the river, she sees something in the
shadows.  She squints to see what could be a motorcycle parked in the
distance.

“Looking for someone?”  Harley’s breath crashes over
the back of her neck.

She freezes in place, relishing the warmth coming from his
body, then spins around to face him, once she’s regained her balance.

“You stalking me now?”  She turns away and walks off,
without slowing for an answer.

Harley smiles, but he doesn’t follow after her. 
“Wouldn’t you like that?”

She almost admits that she would, when he takes a step in
her direction and reaches his hand out to her.

“I was waiting for you.  If I was stalking, I would be
a little less obvious about it.”

Aliah twirls back around, and gawks at his outstretched
hand, her long bouncy curls fanning out behind her.  “Is that supposed to
relieve me?”

Harley raises his eyebrows and holds them there.  “Are
you always this confrontational?”  His hand drops down to his side, but
his posture is no less intimidating.

“Do you always answer a question with a question?”

“Wow.  Nice chat.”  He makes to walk away from
her.

She sighs and glances at the ground, before lifting her chin
back up.  “You waited all this time and you aren’t even going to offer me
a ride?”  She knows she will live to regret this.

“You have your car.”

“How do you know?”

He folds his unbelievably defined arms across his chest and
smirks.  “Do you have your car here?”

She rolls her eyes, effectively tearing them away from the
tattoos wrapped deliciously around his arm.  “Forget I asked.”

“Wait,” he grinds out.

She stands there silently for a minute, waiting for him to
decide what he’s going to say next.  Her breath seems to be on hold,
waiting for him to speak.  It makes her a little light-headed.

His eyes lock on hers, and he looks more determined than
ever.  “Come with me.”

She can’t even explain it, when her body involuntarily
responds.  Her hand is gripped in his and she is being pulled away before
she can even come up with a smart remark.  As they get to his bike, the
black of the gas tank sparkles in the moonlight.  His motorcycle is almost
as sexy as him.

This isn’t anything she’s ever done before.  She likes
to put up a good front, but she has a good heart underneath that push-up
bra.  She’s always dated the knight in shining armor type.  They seem
to be drawn to her naughty-girl attitude.  Quite frankly she has grown
rather bored with that type of man and she is ready to live up to her sassy
persona.

To see a bad ass biker like Harley dragging her to his ride
has her body humming already.  She likes it.  Nothing has ever
excited her more than the thought of him taking her to his bed and showing her
everything she has been missing out on.

The only problem?  She doesn’t do one-night stands.

I guess we will just have to make it two.

Ten minutes earlier.

Harley gets on his motorcycle and rides.  Sure, he is a
man.  He gets turned on.  But this girl has his cock raging for
hours.  It makes it uncomfortable for him to walk, let alone ride his
motorcycle home.  He doesn’t even mow his own lawn, but he plans to work
to please her in every way possible, no matter what the challenge.

He had taken off from the bar before he did something
stupid, like ask that beautiful bartender out. 
What was he
thinking? 
He hasn’t dated since… well, ever.  He doesn’t do
dates.  He had been forced to grow up and get out in his early teen
years.  He lived in an unhappy relationship for far too long after that
and he has no desire to date another woman now or ever.

But damn, Aliah Brooklin is hot.  And he would love to
have another arguing match with her.  He is sure it could end in some
really hot sex, if he plays his cards right.  He only wishes it was worth
the trouble.

Harley doesn’t have anywhere in mind when he gets on his
bike, but before long he finds himself rounding the corner and approaching
Riley’s Pub again.  He wonders if
she
is still there.  A quick
scan of the parking lot tells him she is.  You can’t miss her car. 
It’s the flashiest thing a girl could buy, short of a pink Cadillac.

It wasn’t all butterflies and sunshine for that girl
though.  Harley is good at watching people.  He has watched
Aliah.  A lot.  Though she looks like she could be a lot of fun,
hidden just below the surface is a damaged little girl.  He will have to
be careful to keep that little one in hiding.

Harley parks his ride at the back of the lot and sits there
for a few minutes in the shadows.  He debates whether he should start his
bike back up and get the hell out of there.  Though all signs point to
yes
,
he kicks his leg over the bike and rests his helmet on the seat.  He has
no choice.  He has to fuck this girl.  Just the thought of sliding
his hands under that short skirt and touching that soft, pale skin has his cock
raging again.

He moseys toward the bar, second guessing himself with every
step.  He peers in the door before reaching for the handle and instantly
notices Aliah near the exit with Cavanagh.  He ducks swiftly to the
side.  The detective in him wants to eavesdrop, but it looks like she’s
just leaving.  If he walks in now, he will be stuck for a beer.  Does
he want a beer?

Only if he can drink it from her unclothed body.

Knowing the likelihood of that to be close to nil, he steps
back into the shadows and waits.  He watches her eyes, even while they’re
smiling at another man.  Those lips.  Instead of reading them, like
he should be, he thinks about how nice they’ll be when they’re wrapped around
his cock.  Aliah busies herself with her keys and before too long reaches
for the door.  He’s in luck.  Cavanagh accepts her rejection and lets
her take off on her own.

Sucker.

Harley waits for her to step off the curb before following
her across the road.  She has absolutely no idea he’s watching her. 
His long strides make hers seem like that of a child.  When she stops and
scours the lot, he wonders what she’s looking for.  Her car is straight
ahead.  It’s not
that
she’s looking for.

She focuses on his bike at the back of the lot, as if she
were looking for it.  Intrigued by that thought, he moves dangerously
close to her; so close he can smell the sweet perfume melting from her neck.

“Looking for someone?” he rasps provocatively, the deep bass
of his voice registering in his gut.

He tries to ignore the sparks flickering between them but,
after some promising banter, Harley decides against it.  He steals Aliah’s
hand and tugs her to his bike, ordering her to come with him.  He doesn’t
actually think she will.  She would have to be crazy to leave with
him.  But she slips her small hand into his and lets him pull her
along.  He has never felt so powerful.  And he has been in some
powerful situations.

She’s done it now.

Her decision has been made.  He refuses to take no for
an answer.  Not that she seems to be putting up much of a fight. 
But, knowing that this bargain can pass, he drags her to his bike as fast as
her five inch heels can carry her.  He feels so tempted to scoop her into
his arms, so they can get there faster.  He just barely resists the urge.

He believes it’s officially in the bag, when they’re mere
steps away from his ride, until she pulls her hand away from him and stops. 
He turns around to see what the problem is, worry written across his
brow.  He really fucking needs this.

Aliah’s eyes look so big and wide that he almost forgets his
goal. 
Almost.

“You aren’t a serial killer, who seduces his victims and
then murders them, are you?”

She’s trying to act scared.  Like a little school
girl.  And he falls for it at first.  But he quickly sees past the
act.  His entire body tightens.  Her hesitation only makes him
harder.

“If I was, I certainly wouldn’t admit that to you now. 
Especially now that you’re so close to giving in to me.”

Aliah smiles and turns her eyes away.  She loves his
bluntness.  He knows it.  He decides now is as good a time as ever to
give her a little truth.

“I may not be who I appear to be, darlin’, but I assure you
I’m no serial killer.”

The look on her face suggests she doesn’t even want to know,
and that’s just fine by him.  She shrugs a shoulder, proving that he’s
back in the safe zone.

“Good enough for me.”  She gets closer to him and
lowers her voice until it’s soft and breathy.  “If you like it rough, I’m
good with that.”

Just the thought of tumbling in the sheets with her makes
him tight in the pants.

“Just make sure you’re gentle with my body afterward,” she
teases.  “Nothing worse than crime scene photos of a woman propped up in
the tackiest of poses.”

Harley smirks at her.  “Because you would know this.”

“I do.”

He ignores that, passing it off as a lie.  She probably
takes her pointers from the phoney late night crime shows.  Regardless, she
doesn’t need to worry.  He would never let another person touch her. 
That perfect little body will never be the subject of a brutal disfigurement
put out on display for the cops to find.  Not while Harley’s on the clock.

He tries to forget about it.  He wants to get her back
onto the topic of sex.  Yes.  He likes that idea very much.

“I promise not to treat you like a trophy, although I can
see why a man might want to look at you that way.”  His eyes touch her all
over.

Aliah tilts her head to the left and presses her lips into a
flat line.  “Okay, quit with that creepy shit, before I change my mind.”

She pulls the hair tie from her high pony and shakes it out,
until long waves of silky hair are framing her face and dangling down to the
curve of her lower back.  Her hair whispers across the bareness of her
skin, like chocolate silk.

“So, is that a yes?”  He’s not below begging at this
point, if she is to say no.

“Yes to what?  I recall that you asked what I was doing
later.  Was I supposed to
assume
that you meant you’d like to keep
me busy?”

“I would like that.  Very much.”

“I’m sure you would.  Unfortunately, I’m busy. 
Maybe next time.  But not likely,” she mumbles under her breath, as her
voice trails off.

“Are you too good for me?  Just say it, if that’s
it.”  His words stop her in her tracks.

She spins back around and props a hand on a flawless
hip.  “Do I look
good
to you?”

No.  She looks bad. 
Very, very bad.
 
Her sassy mouth and bad attitude are really turning him on something
fierce.  He wants to spank her; to see his handprint marking her delicate
flesh.

“
Good
isn’t the word I would use.”  His eyes
violate her entire body.

He reaches out and pulls a single strand of hair from
between her lips, then dusts a kiss there, in stark contrast to the loaded
machine gun he’s packing in his pants.

He can see that she’s flustered.  He’s getting to
her.  Little Miss Aliah isn’t quite as hard as she lets on.  He, on
the other hand, is as hard as he can possibly get.

“You make me feel…”  She huffs, not even knowing how to
fill in her own sentence.

“Wow.  So she does
feel
.”