Page 33 of Badass Biker

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“Si, senor.”

“Use far left lane again. Less busy.”

“Gracias.” Carter slid the passports into his cut pocket and revved his engine. Hard. Having corrupt borders was an advantage, sure, and he was used to making the most of it. But he now realized he’d been more unnerved than usual, his heart beating that bit faster. And it was because he had Leah in tow. She was his responsibility now she was riding his bike.

He twisted the throttle and pulled away, fast. As if the Hounds of Hell were nipping at his back tire.

Leah gripped him tighter, her small body pressing close. He could almost feel the adrenaline surging through her bloodstream.

He accelerated some more, passing a motorhome and a car loaded up with surfboards. An unfamiliar sense of warmth gripped him. It had nothing to do with the large hot orb of the sun and everything to do with the woman molded behind him.

He lowered his head, sped up until the wind pressed his cut hard to his body. Damn it, Leah White was getting under his skin, more than that, into his blood, into his heart. He’d always known that was a danger, from the first moment he’d seen her. But after that awesome fuck in the kitchen, after sinking his cock deep and her sweet pussy gripping him so tight, he didn’t stand a chance of resisting her lure. She was addictive. One bite and he knew he’d have to have more, soon.

They drove past theBienvenidos A Tijuanasign and soon the low, brightly colored buildings became denser and the road busier. Overhead, a tangle of cables crisscrossed a vivid blue sky. The palm-lined sidewalks swarmed, an eclectic mix of people going about their business in varying degrees of hurriedness.

Carter knew the area well. The drop-off point was always the same, and he’d been there many times. Not for a few months admittedly. He’d passed the job on to Dino, a well-trusted prospector.

He weaved through a jam of traffic, turned left at a motel—theTon the sign at a precarious angle—and past a car sales shop. Another left and he was onCalle Lateral Larga, a narrow street dotted with restaurants, hair salons, bars, liquor stores, and several health food stores that sold very little in the way of healthy produce. A couple of places were boarded up, including a tattoo parlor Carter had used a few times. He wondered what had happened to the owner.

Frutos Del Marcame into view tucked between a barber’s and a shop buying and selling gold. Carter’s mouth watered. It was one of his favorite places to eat and it seemed, like Pavlov’s dogs, the red and green sign, along with the matching bright bunting, created hunger in his belly.

He pulled to a stop in the small parking lot that was circled with swaying crisp dry grass. Removing his helmet, he glanced around. He didn’t expect to see the coyote just yet, which suited him. He wanted to concentrate on Leah.

She climbed from behind him, took her helmet off, and blew out a breath. Her hair was flattened to her head and her cheeks were red.

“Riding suits you.” He grinned.

“I’m sure it doesn’t.” She made an attempt to fluff up her dark hair with some success. “I’m seriously hot.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” He cupped her chin and pulled her face close for a brief kiss. “But come on, let’s find a shady table and order cold drinks.”

Chapter Nine

Leah looked around the burnt-orange walls of the restaurant. To her left was a door to the kitchen, and waiters busied in and out. It seemed the majority of the tables were outdoors.

“Senor.” A waiter nodded at Carter. “This way.”

He led them to a wooden table painted olive green and set beneath a trellis covered in a stunning bright pink bougainvillea. Bees buzzed between the flowers, accompanied by several blue butterflies.

“Gracias,” Carter said, then pulled out a chair for Leah, the one facing the flowers.

“Thanks.” She sat and took the offered menu, which was decorated with hand-painted cacti.

“Dos cervezas.” Carter held up two fingers.

The waiter nodded.

“It has to be the fish tacos,” Carter said. “The best you’ll ever have.”

“I can go with that.” She smiled and set the menu to one side. “You’ve been here a few times?”

“Yeah, when I find a good place to eat, I stick with it.”

“Sensible.” She glanced around. “How did you find it? It’s off the tourist track.”

“I’m not a tourist.”

The waiter set down two Desperados coated in condensation. “Gracias,” Carter said. “Fish tacos all around.”


Tags: Lily Harlem Romance