Welcome to Sugartown

She giggles and Renee whispers under her breath, “Wasn’t that what he said?”

I glare at the two of them.

“You know, the other day when he dropped my car off to me? I thanked him myself, of course, many times, but I just wanted to let him know how grateful I really am.”

Oh no she didn’t.

“Then you should tell him yourself. You’ve only been eye-raping him for the last half hour, what’s a bit of harmless flirting between friends?”

Her responding smile is dripping with venom, though her voice is airy and filled with laughter. “You’re so funny, Ana. I really can’t understand why we weren’t closer in high school?”

Probably because you stole my boyfriend out from under me, you two-faced home-wrecking whore, I think, but I don’t give her the satisfaction of hearing those words out loud.

I feel Holly come up behind me. “Well, don’t stand around chit-chatting all night, you’ve got a hot date, remember?

“Right,” I mutter, and fling open the door. Now I’m an anxious mess for an entirely different reason.

“How long have they been together?” I hear Renee ask Holly, and as I’m exiting the diner I bend down and pretend to fuss with the zipper on my boot.

“Ana and Elijah?” She feigns nonchalance. “Oh, they’ve been banging one another’s brains out since he first rode into town. Guess he doesn’t need that motorcycle anymore, now he just rides her.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Nicole says.

“No? Then you haven’t been in the room next to them when they really hit their stride. It’s like someone opened all the cages in the zoo and the animals are having a free-for-all.”

I cringe at that last statement, quit playing with my boot and begin marching across the road to meet Elijah. Though she always has my back, and my best interests at heart, sometimes I wish Holly would contract a flesh eating throat virus that would render her speechless for the remainder of her life.

Elijah has the front door to the garage pulled down, so I slip in through the side door. The shop is shrouded in shadow, and I’m just about to call out to him when I hear him talking on the phone in the bathroom. “You listen to me, you worthless piece of shit. You hang up the phone and you lose this number.”

“I don’t give a shit what you say to the club. Tell them I rode the bike off the edge of a cliff. I’ve got a good thing going here, and I will be fucked if I let you waltz back in and ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for. This conversation alone is enough to send me back into the lock-up. Zero contact with club affiliates, did you forget about that condition of my release?”

There’s a pause, and then he roars so loud it rattles the drywall of the tiny bathroom. “I AM NOT YOUR SON! I stopped being that the day your retaliation got Lil and Mum killed!” There’s a loud yell and the sound of plastic thwacking against the wall and shattering across the tiled floor.

I’m frozen to the spot, caught between breaking down the door and demanding an explanation or running in the opposite direction. And, while I’m contemplating my retreat, I hear Elijah mutter to himself, “Pull it together arsehole.” And then he wrenches the door open and stands there, staring at me.

I know the guilt of overhearing his conversation is written all over my face so I’m not sure why I try to pretend like I’m in the dark, but I smile sweetly. “Hi.”

“How long you been standing there, Ana?”

“Not long, I just got here.”

“Oh yeah?” He eliminates the distance between us and slides his hands around my waist. Then he lifts me up and sets me back down on the workbench, easing his way between my thighs. He’s shaking slightly and I can feel the caged violence in him, and the effort it takes him to be gentle with me. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“Nice outfit.” He tugs my zipper down an extra inch until my boobs are practically falling out of my jacket. Then he slips his hand inside my bra and rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “You got a hot date tonight?”

“Yeah, actually I should get going. Scott’s picking me up in a minute,” I joke, just to relieve some of the tension between us, but it has the opposite effect. Elijah growls and tugs hard on my nipple, causing my breath to catch in the back of my throat and a shot of fiery pleasure to arc between my breast and my already drenched crevice. “Now is really not the time to be putting images of you with other men in my head, Ana.”

“You wanna talk about it?” We both know I don’t mean the ridiculous idea of me with other men.

“No,” he says, a little too quickly, and then presses a hard kiss to my lips.

“Elijah—”

“I don’t wanna talk about it. I wanna put you over my knee and spank you til your arse is raw. And then I wanna flip you over and eat you out until that beautiful pussy can’t come any more.” He peppers my face and neck with kisses, then slides a hand between my legs and begins working me into a frenzy. The seam of my jeans rubs against my clit with every stroke until I’m a sighing, shuddering mess of a woman. “Then I wanna fuck your mouth until you drain every last drop from me.”

I have my own ideas about that last one. As much as I love going down on him, I’d much rather he fucked me than my mouth, but I’m not prepared to admit that little detail yet. Besides, I’m under no illusions that if he took me now while he’s in this dark—and frankly, kinda scary—mood, I wouldn’t be walking for a week. As hot as that makes me, it’s really not the way I think my first time should go.

Not that it matters at this point. A few more strokes of his hand and I’ll consent to anything as I’m riding that delicious post-orgasmic high. I think he senses this, too, because he withdraws his hand and tilts my face up to his. I’m panting and desperate and aching for him to finish me off, but the wicked glint in his eye tells me he has no intention of doing so. I let out a ridiculous whimper that shames me beyond the point of no return, which says a lot when you consider who my best friend is. Elijah laughs, low and so sexy that it sends a fresh frisson of yearning through me.

“What’s the matter, baby girl? Cunt got your tongue?”

“You’re cruel,” I whine and slap playfully at his chest. He catches my hand in his and brings it to his lips.

“Ah, but I promised you a date.”

“And it couldn’t start after my orgasm?”

“Usually that happens at the end of the date.” Elijah carefully zips me back into my jacket and leads me out through the side door before locking up after himself. He falls into step beside me and slides his hand into my back pocket, then he leans down and whispers, “If you’re a very good girl, I might even tie you to the bed and take more from you tonight than just your orgasm.”

I freeze midstride. Does he already know that this is where tonight is leading? Is it written all over my face? Did he somehow hear Holly from across the street? And is he kidding me with this whole bondage thing, or have I bitten off much more than I can chew?

All these questions run through my head as I watch him jump on the bike and turn the key in the ignition, though the questions I should have been asking Elijah have nothing to do with losing my virginity.

Why do I get the feeling that the answers to the questions Elijah’s so eager to avoid are the ones that will ruin everything?

Chapter Fifteen Elijah

The streets are lined with people; adults and kids, voices, music and the smell of fried food everywhere. People jostle one another for space in order to get a better view of the parade. Several big-arse lanterns pass us by, ships and dragons and something that looks like a giant fertility goddess, each more elaborate than the first and most requiring four or more people to carry them.

We stand across the road from a pub, huddled in with the other spectators. There’s several big biker dudes drinking and making a raucous outside the pub, though no one but me seems to be paying them any mind. I’m not