Reeve was shocked. All the way over to her table he’d been telling himself how stupid this was. Any woman capable of telling off Big Steve in such a haughty, blue-blooded tone had no interest in a guy like Reeve. But that was the thing: Watching her stand there in that dress, so sure of herself while she let the bartender have it, had been sexy as all hell. He’d instantly decided to ignore the warnings in his head and consider it a challenge. If nothing else, listening to her give him the slip would be sexy in its own right.

He’d debated what he would say to her, but then the minute he’d sat down he’d ended up dropping all pretense and just said the first thing that came to mind. Figuring if she blew him off he’d console his ego with the fact that she’d just been uptight and offended by his use of the word dick.

What a good decision that had been, because she seemed to have liked it.

“Well, all right then. Here’s to a mutually beneficial ending.” Reeve smiled and held out his beer bottle. She reciprocated, lifting her glass with perfectly manicured red nails. Her green eyes sparkled as the glasses clinked together. Damn, from a distance she’d been a knockout, but up close she was perfection from head to toe. Her blond hair was the shiniest he’d ever seen, and her skin flawless. She was breathtaking.

“I’m surprised that you came over after witnessing my altercation with the bartender,” she said with an eyebrow raise.

“You certainly did crack the whip on him, didn’t you? But you shouldn’t be surprised. Every guy around that bar had a hard-on when you left.” Reeve chuckled when her mouth dropped open. “Men might appear to be the dominant species, but really we like it when a woman puts us in our place. It’s sexy. And it gives us a good reason to smack her ass later.”

Her eyes went wide. Well, shit. Yep, now she was offended. Or maybe she was turned on, if the slow bloom of pink on her cheeks was any indication. Or the way she shifted in her seat. And what had gotten into him? This was not the way you came on to a lady. Especially not this kind of lady. He was doing it all ass-backward. And yet something in his gut was telling him this was the way he would end up with her on the back of his bike. Damn, he wanted that badly.

“Does this shtick usually work for you?” There was a hint of agitation in her voice. So maybe he’d been wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time. She’d figured him out and was going to send him packing. Might as well come clean.

“Hell no,” he said with a grin. And that was no lie. He was known to be direct, but this was a bit much even for him. Still, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was interested. “But something about you is telling me you are a no-bullshit kind of woman.”

“That’s accurate.”

“What do you do?”

“Uhh, well. Currently . . . I am . . . working in an office.”

Interesting. He angled his head in her direction. “No personal information. I get it.”

She shrugged. “My employment doesn’t really seem relevant to what we’re doing here.”

“Fair enough.” And what were they doing here? He hoped it was the delicate dance of back and forth that led to casual sex, but it was hard to tell with this one. She was definitely going to make him work for it. Now it was his turn to shift in his seat. “What’s your name?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not yet. So far I haven’t heard anything from you that makes me think this is worth pursuing.”

“Ouch.” Reeve quickly stood up, planning to flip the chair around and sit back down. But when her eyes turned panicked, and her hands came up to the table, he knew that she’d been bluffing. She thought he’d been about to walk away, and disappointment was written all over her face.

When he sat back down and winked, she let out a miffed huff. Tease. He knew she was relieved. “So tell me, beautiful . . .”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Then give me something to call you.”

She sighed deeply and glanced down at the phone she’d dropped into her lap before meeting his eyes again. “Sarah.”

“Pretty name.” And she was also lying, which stung a little. What did he look like, a creeper? “But I think after that scene with Big Steve at the bar, I’ll just call you Whip. So, Whip, what do I need to say to entice you to get on my bike and come home with me tonight?”

Okay, maybe he was a creeper. Despite that, her eyes widened at his words, and as much as she appeared to be trying for indifference she couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice. “You have a bike?”

Ah, so she was looking for an adventure. He gave her a half grin. “I do. An ’89 Harley. Parked outside. You ever been on one before?”

She shook her head and took a sip of her drink.

“But you want to. I can tell.”

A coy look crossed her face and she shrugged her bare shoulders. Good God he wanted to touch her. Her skin was like porcelain, the length of her neck begging for attention.

“Actually I never thought about my desire to ride until just recently,” she said.

“Really? I love a woman that has a desire to ride.” Her blush deepened and Reeve’s need to have her skyrocketed. “It’s starting to look like the stars have aligned for us, Whip.”

She laughed. “You’re insane. I’m a smart woman. Getting up and leaving with you, a total stranger, would be incredibly naive.”

“Yes, it could be, potentially. However, I know for a fact that I’m a good guy and I’m pretty damn sure I could make you glad you came.” He waggled his eyebrows, happy when she caught his horrible joke and laughed.

“That might be the most atrocious pun I’ve ever heard.”

But she was smiling and that was the only thing that mattered. He wanted her to keep on laughing. “It was, yes. I botched it. I meant to say, I’ll make you glad you came twice.”

She shook her head but her grin stayed in place. The music transitioned into a slow song, some played-out country ballad. It changed the mood to something a little less playful and more . . . sensual.

“I reiterate,” she said. She used some seriously big words, this woman. “Naive. How do I know you’re not a murderer or rapist? Are you in the military?”

Reeve’s head jerked back, his mouth falling open. “You lump military men in with murderers and rapists?”

“Sorry, no. That didn’t come out right. But I do have a rule. No military guys. Not even for casual sex.”

So she had done casual sex, which usually suited him fine, ideal even, but something about her doing it irritated him. He’d kind of hoped she was doing something out of the ordinary here. A double standard, but he couldn’t help it. And what the hell was her issue with military guys?

“And what offends you about the military? Just curious.” Was he going to lie to her? Could he? Becoming a United States Marine, serving eight years, three tours, and now being a member of the Guard might be some of his greatest personal achievements. No, they definitely were. Could he deny that for a piece of ass tonight? He watched her bite her lips as she contemplated her answer.

Damn. Maybe.

“Nothing offends me about the military. I respect it. I have just chosen not to interact with military men on a personal level. Bad experience.”

“With a boyfriend?” Now he really wanted to know. Maybe he could change her mind.

“Not like that. A stepdad. He’s a general in the marines. And a complete asshole.”

Well . . . fuck.

Reeve swallowed quickly so he could actually speak over the lump in his throat. A marine didn’t take fucking a general’s daughter lightly. But damn she was sexy. And to hell with it, he was in the army now. “That makes sense, I guess.”

“Hey, uh . . . we were thinking about going soon,” a voice called from the other side of the table. Reeve sat up and met eyes with the bride-to-be. She gave him an excited smile and stuck out her hand. “Hi. I’m Amanda.”

“Reeve.” He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Amanda. Congratulations on your impending nuptials.”

“Oh, thank you. Two weeks away. So exciting.”

Reeve nodded and was then suddenly inspired to manipulate the situation. “I was just, ah, getting to know Sarah a little better.”

Amanda’s eyes widened at that, her mouth dropping open. Her eyes darted between him and Sarah for a moment before she went on. “Oh, Sarah, yes. Isn’t she the sweetest? We’ve been best friends for over twenty years. Did she tell you—oop.” Amanda jerked her head toward Sarah-who-definitely-wasn’t-Sarah, who had clearly just kicked her friend under the table. Her eyes were narrowed, and Reeve knew a shut-up face when he saw one.

Sarah must have good friends or make a mean threat, because Amanda stood back up. “Reeve, it was so nice to meet you. I’ll, uhhh, I’ll just go over here and let you two talk another minute.”

“Still don’t trust me,” Reeve said. It wasn’t a question.

“It’s nothing personal. I’m sure you’re a nice guy.”

Yeah, maybe this one wasn’t worth the effort. He could respect the desire for anonymity, but this was feeling like more drama than he was willing to put up with. And yet . . . God, he was a glutton for punishment, because he couldn’t seem to help himself.

“Let me at least take you for a drive. If that’s all you want, fine. I just want you to experience the bike.”

She gave him a slow smile. The kind that had him imagining her naked beneath him as she looked at him like that. “You realize that also requires trust.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. But I know you’ll love it. The engine vibrating between your legs, the wind in your hair. Nothing like it.”

Her eyes glazed over and he knew she was strongly considering it. And he wanted it. Bad. To watch her hike up that insane dress so he could nestle himself between her bare thighs, her arms wrapped around his body.

“I don’t know . . .”

“Give my phone number and address to your friend. Then you won’t be with a stranger. They’ll know how to track me down if you turn up missing tomorrow.”

She stared at him, conflicted desire burning in her eyes.

“I’m putting myself at risk also,” he said, hands up.

She leveled him with the cutest stare. “Oh yeah, I look like a real threat to you and your muscles.”

He grinned and then leaned in. “I saw you hide that phone in your dress. You could have a switchblade in there, too. You could stab me, leave me on the side of the road, and steal my bike. But I’m willing to trust you, too, Sarah.” He raised an eyebrow.

She laughed, the sight so lovely and sound so pure, he almost felt guilty for what he was doing. Almost.

“Okay. What’s your number?” She lifted her phone from her lap and opened a text.

Hell. Yes. He rattled his number and address off. “And feel free to give me yours if you want.”

She gave him a long look that made him chuckle and then got to work sending a text to her friend, who wasted no time rushing back over to the table.

“Excuse us,” Amanda said, pulling her friend off to the side where he couldn’t hear. He watched as the two women chatted frantically. He couldn’t tell if the bride-to-be was giving her pointers or talking her out of leaving with him. When they were done they both walked over.

“Take care of my best friend. Or I’ll call the FBI, the CIA, CSI . . . everybody.”

Reeve chuckled. “All the CSIs?”

“All of them.”

“I promise to be a perfect gentleman and get her home safely.” Reeve turned back to Not Sarah. “Listen, I’m gonna go tell my buddy I’m taking you home. Want to meet me at the front door in five?”

She nodded, a hint of panic in her expression. He wasn’t going to talk her into this anymore. He wasn’t the kind of guy that made a woman uncomfortable or feel pressured, so if she changed her mind, or didn’t show up at the door in five, that was fine. But he sure as hell hoped she did.

As soon as he filled Brad in on what had gone down, his friend’s eyes went wide. “No shit? I was certain she’d blow you off and I don’t mean in the friendly way.”

Reeve put up his hands, feigning innocence. “I can’t tell you how I do what I do, I’m just good at it.”

“I guess so. Well, damn, good luck. I have a bad feeling you’re in for some heartache with that one, though.”

Reeve scoffed and gave Brad a wave over his shoulder as he headed for the door. Heartache required a man to put his heart on the line, and that was one thing Reeve never did.