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bike, leaving her ears ringing and a certain… hunger and longing for more.
     
    “Well, that was presumptive.” Good thing he’s a hot biker or else– She caught herself. When she was a teenager she had vowed not to do anything stupid, like get mixed up with the wrong men like her sister. This promise had served Joelle well, but her quick liking to Liam gave her pause. Just because he’s a biker doesn’t make him bad, does it?
     
    She pushed her thoughts aside. She didn’t have time for them. Jimmy would be waking up soon and Josie would need her ride to work.
     
    And Liam, a king in black with his metal steed, waited in the future. She couldn’t wait.
     
    ***
     
    Inside Moonies, Liam held court with the rest of his gang. The Black Mesa MC had staked out the bar as their own, the rest of the customers’ conversations drowned out by the roaring laughter of the bikers. Like a herd of black beetles huddled over the bar’s tables and chairs, they shifted and drank but never moved far.
     
    The backs of their leather jackets were all embossed with various renderings of a high mesa outlined in white or silver thread. The black leather lent the rock formation the midnight hue characteristic of their club’s name.
     
    It being ladies’ night, Liam knew that their higher profile would put his boys on their best behavior. The incentive to roughhouse dropped off when there was fresh tail on the loose. Hopefully none have eyes for the same broad, he thought. His eyes roved over the crowd until they fixed on a waitress making her way through the assorted shoulders and elbows. Is it Suzie? Or Stacey? Nah, it’s always Ashley these days.
     
    Her Daisy Dukes shorts highlighted her tanned thighs, fit and toned from years of walking and standing. Bright blonde hair bounced to her step, as did perky breasts, though Liam took it be an extra effort on her part to be so buoyant. Do what you gotta do for tips. She flashed him a cheesecake smile as she dropped off his whiskey.
     
    “Anything else I can do for you, handsome?”
     
    He grinned and gave her a light slap on her tight cheeks. Encased in poured-in-place denim, they stretched to be free. “Just keep the shots coming, Ashley!”
     
    Her eyes flared with mock outrage. “My name is Sasha, mister!”
     
    Ain’t that some Russian shit? “Ah knew there was some ash in it. Sassy Ass Sasha it is!” He held his shot glass up and all the men toasted, downing whatever they had in their glasses and mugs. As she walked off, every man’s eyes were glued to her bottom, bouncing with each step as if supported by shocks; all but Liam’s. Of the many women who had come in free, many were already hanging and writhing on his men, eager to be close to the legend of the Black Mesa club but not brave enough to get close to the legend himself. The man whose record time for crossing Texas had never been beaten. and the man who’d led Feds and three different state police on the greatest chase the country had ever seen. But that was a long time ago.
     
    Unlike the Black Asphalt maniacs who’d gone out guns blazing the previous year, Liam was keen to keep the group honest and respectable. For him, one brush with the law was enough. One brush with Joelle, however, deserved another.
     
    His eyes brightened with a certain sharpness when he saw her come through the door, her face innocent and confused. The gaudy lights and haze of smoke had disoriented her. The veteran biker’s eyes drank in her voluptuous form, with her thick legs and soft arms, her shirt low-cut enough to showcase a window of cleavage accented with a cross dangling down the middle.
     
    Hot damn. Dressed to impress.
     
    He called out and waved his hand above the huddled masses. As she came up to him he could tell it was one of the more uncomfortable walks of her life. She budged her way past men leering at her generous chest and inched past women whose eyes were guarded and distant, their whispers like hisses in