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“Ready?” he asked.

“Come on,” Clarissa said as she locked the door and sprinted off to the steps. She didn’t want to experience another elevator ride with Skull. Her thoughts went to lustful places when she thought about being in such proximity to him.

Outside, Skull helped Clarissa with her helmet. He fixed it over her hair and fastened the straps. Clarissa blushed as his hands brushed against her cheek and she had to fight the urge to lean into his touch.

“So where are we going tonight?” she asked.

“I told you the bar,” Skull grinned.

“I know that,” Clarissa said, “What I meant was, which one?”

“You’ll see when we get there,” Skull said, climbing onto his motorcycle.

“It’s not like a biker bar or something is it?” Clarissa asked.

“What makes you think that?” Skull laughed and held out his hand to help Clarissa onto the bike.

Ignoring his outstretched hand she clambered onto the bike and settled against his back.

“Well, I don’t know,” Clarissa rolled her eyes, “Maybe the bike.”

Clarissa waited for Skull to assure her that their destination wasn’t a biker bar, but he didn’t. Instead he revved the bike’s engine and pulled out onto the street. Clarissa’s stomach tightened and it felt like her heart dropped down into it. What did people do at bars anyway? She knew there would be alcohol, but she wasn’t worried about that. She had never been tempted to drink. Clarissa had witnessed Julie hung-over too many times to ever want the experience.

Clarissa had also been exposed to enough television against her will to know that most bars and clubs had dance floors. Clarissa didn’t think Skull was the type to enjoy dancing, because she didn’t think she’d survive being dragged onto the dance floor. She had never been coordinated enough to follow a beat. Julie said it was because she was too self-conscious, but Clarissa thought it was just the result of being her father’s daughter. Thankfully, she wasn’t as clumsy as he could be at times.

As they drove Clarissa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She needed to clear her mind. Worrying about what awaited her at the bar wasn’t going to make her feel any better. Instead she found herself concentrating on how good Skull smelled and how his back felt against her stomach and breasts. Her nipples were hard again and Clarissa bit her lip. Skull had a way of undoing her and Clarissa couldn’t stay away from him.

No other guy had ever affected her this way. Justin had tried more than a few times to talk her into going all the way, but she always refused. She had always known deep down that Justin was a real jerk, because he’d bring it up again and again, pushing the limits of their make-out sessions closer and closer to Clarissa’s limits, like he hoped she’d forget her morals while she was lost to the passion of the moment.

After pulling away from Skull the previous evening, Clarissa had thought that she’d never see him again. She half expected that he would leave while she was in the kitchen, but he had stayed. More than that he had asked to see her again. Maybe her first impression of him had been wrong. Maybe Skull was just running late for class or something that day at the grocery store.

The bike came to a stop and Skull killed the engine, but Clarissa didn’t move. She wanted to state in motion forever, because stopping meant that she had to face what would come next and she wasn’t sure she was ready. After a few seconds she forced herself off the bike and removed the helmet, then ran her fingers through her hair hoping it still looked as good as it had when they set out.

Clarissa nearly squeaked in surprise when Skull took a hold of her hand and entwined his fingers through hers. His palm felt warm against her and the intimate gesture made Clarissa blush. She tried to look nonchalant about it, like guys that she was really attracted to held her hand all the time. Every day in fact.

“This is a biker bar!” Clarissa frowned looking up at the sign that read ‘AlleyCat Pub.’

“Don’t worry about it,” Skull shrugged, “You’ll be fine, Bookworm.”

“Please quit calling me that,” Clarissa sighed.

She hated how conflicted Skull’s attitude made her feel. Last night he was the sweet guy who didn’t try to talk her into going farther than she was willing to, but today he was the jerk who was taking her somewhere he knew she didn’t want to go and lied to her. Clarissa was beginning to hate the word bookworm. Before it hadn’t bothered her, she had even dubbed herself that on more than one occasion, but when Skull said it, the label carried a sarcastic jab.

“Let’s just go inside,” Skull said and led her to the door.

Clarissa took a deep breath and dread filled her belly. She wasn’t looking forward to being surrounded by sweaty men, most of which were likely to be felons. When Skull opened the door Clarissa took a deep breath and held it as she waited for a cloud of smoke to waft out the door.

Clarissa blinked and cocked her head to the side. The bar’s interior was much cleaner than she had expected to find it and the air wasn’t stale with beer, piss, r smoke, either. Instead it smelled of chips and salsa although a few of the guys at the bar were throwing back beers. Many of the men were dressed like you’d expect bikers to be and looked just as intimidating as they did in the movies. On the left arm of every man was a star with a bold black X over it. The matching group tattoos made Clarissa think that the men might be part of a gang. What Clarissa couldn’t understand was why would the Goth-at-heart Skull would want anything to do with these guys.

“Hey, Skull, you going to introduce us to your girlfriend?” one of the men at the bar called out.

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Clarissa said, putting her hands on her hips.

“Not yet,” one of the other guys laughed.

“So, Skull’s not-girl-friend, do you have a name?” the first man asked.

“Clarissa,” she answered.


Tags: Sarah Adams Crushing on You Romance