The roar of a Harley on its last wheel sputtered into Riley's parking lot. He groaned and wiped the back of a hand across his sweaty forehead. Bad Dawg would shit bricks if that baby was as bad as it sounded. It would need custom work, and nothing pissed BD off more than abuse of a hog.
"Hey, Riley. Long time."
Riley's attention jerked from the guts of his truck to a ghost from his past. Cold fury warred with hard lust. Five and a half feet of curvy and delicious. It was little comfort to know his imagination hadn't strayed from his memory of her. Still perfect.
"Tara. Shouldn't you be with your husband?"
Her friendly smile wavered. "He has more than enough wives to keep him occupied." She gestured to the Harley. "Can you fix it?"
"No." He narrowed his eyes. "Why are you here?"
"I came looking for you." She flipped her long black hair over a shoulder. The delicate curve of her throat tempted him. Did she still bear the mark he'd given her so many years ago? God, the ache in his cock was going to kill him. Her taste was like a memory on the back of his tongue.
He raised an eyebrow. "Turn off your bike if you want me to work on it. Then get the fuck out of my shop."
She shut off the bike and set the kickstand. The way she straddled that bike had his cock aching to bury deep in her pussy. She leaned back in the seat, and he watched her leg as she lifted it over the seat. Her legs were gorgeous in jeans and black chaps.
"I needed to see you."
"I don't fuck married women."
She winced. "I'm not married anymore, Riley."
"Do you have that in writing, darlin'?"
"Our marriage was never official. A Prairie Dawg has the right to leave at any time. I took my right." She glared at him.
Riley smiled, and the constriction across his chest dissipated. The fury still simmered on the back burner. This changed things considerably. He grabbed a rag and began wiping his hands, all the while watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her body swayed slightly, the tremble in her limbs. Oh yes. Things had definitely changed. "What did you do to your ride?"
"I have no idea." Her shoulder-width stance and crossed arms told him far more than her expression. She expected a war or for him to throw her out. He contemplated both, but his cock had other ideas.
Knowing she was free, really free, made all the difference. He shook his head. "Why doesn't that surprise me? Where are your things?"
A pained expression crossed her face. "Everything I need is in my saddlebags."
"You wanted comfort and luxury, sweet thing. What happened to the beautiful house and the status you craved?"
Her face paled. "I didn't have a choice and you know it, Riley. He was my clan. My family was honored to have him as a relative."
He clenched the wrench. "And what about you? Were you honored? Was it everything you ever dreamed of?"
"Fuck you. You think I liked watching my husband fuck other women? It was my duty!" She was screaming now, and the rage made her beautiful. Anything was better than that hurt and scared look she'd given him earlier.
"Duty?" He threw the wrench across the room and stalked toward her.
She shrank away from him, and the fury burned hotter in his gut. What had that fucking prick done to her to make her afraid? He jerked to a stop. "I would have given you anything. Anything. And you had to go to him, instead."
Her eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry."
Not too long ago her tears would have made him try and change the tide. Riley ignored the hitch in his gut at her distress.
"I'm not here to ask for another chance. I just wanted to let you know you were right."
Riley crossed his arms. "About what?"
"About all of it. The bike wasn't an excuse. It really did start sputtering right outside of town. I wanted to come in and chat with you and then leave you to your life."
"You are a piece of work, baby."
"Yeah. I expected you to say something like that." She turned her head and started rifling through her saddlebag. "I can pay you."
Before he could think, Riley moved close enough to snake her wrist in a loose grip. "Oh you'll pay me, Tara. The question is, how far are you willing to go?"
)
Prairie dogs may be low on the food chain, but Riley Cates is anything but. More man than dawg, he's finally carved his place in Barkus. Until Tara walks back into his life. Now there's no turning back, because once Riley has his taste, he'll never be able to let her go. Tara's drawn to the one man who holds her soul, her happiness in his paws. And no matter what happens, this time, she's playing for keeps.
