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my mind was done with sleep for the night. I wondered if this was how men on death row felt—keyed up and ready for the end.
    Flash was sitting sideways in the dainty chair, looking out the window at the courtyard. He was like a lion, all smooth grace and watchful eyes. Despite his height—he had to be close to six-and-a-half feet tall—he wasn’t awkward or gangly. Instead, rippling muscle covered his body, hugging his arms and torso clean down to his narrow waist.
    He made me feel safe.
    He also made me feel other things I neither expected nor wanted to feel in this place—though I’d have welcomed the red heat between my legs if we’d been elsewhere. I moved again, trying desperately to get my arousal under control and failing when the ache only grew. Since he’d taken off his jacket and I’d seen the muscles he kept hidden under the leather and cloth, I’d been wet. Needy. Aching for him to close the distance between us and touch me.
    But he wasn’t going to.
    Because he had honor.
    Maybe I’m cynical after everything I’ve been through, but honor wasn’t something I expected to find in a man who wore his 1% patch like a badge of pride. Flash was hardly the first biker I’d met in my life—not even the 50th—but those men were run down with hollow cheeks and sores on their arms. This man—the man who’d taken me out of the desert—he had smooth tanned skin, white teeth and a body that looked like it had never known chemicals.
    Unlikely, perhaps. But a girl could dream.
    If there was one thing on my personal checklist I wouldn’t compromise on, it was no more drug users.
    He said he didn’t want to force me, but it wouldn’t be force if something happened between us. After all the years I’d spent guarding my virginity like a treasure, I suddenly wanted it to be gone very, very much. I wanted him inside me, showing me what all those girls get so excited about at parties when they go home with half-drunk fraternity guys who wear neon sunglasses on at night.
    I used to watch those girls when I’d walk across campus after the night classes I started taking as a senior in high school. Their short dresses clung to perfect bodies like bright bandaids and they’d all had the same wide, toothy grins. More than anything, I wanted to be like them, happy and just…free. Now I knew it would never happen. The first time I’d left home in ten years and I’d almost gotten killed. Maybe Uncle Dale was right when he said I’d never survive without him.
    But for one night, I could have everything I wanted.
    As if he could hear the direction of my thoughts, Flash turned to me and ran his eyes over my still form. Shivers rocketed up my spine. “You aren’t sleeping.”
    “I’m too wound up.”
    “Well, I—.” He stopped abruptly and held up a hand, then pointed to the door. Under it, light had poured in as an unbroken streak from the hallway—until now. Behind the door was a shadow.
    Someone was listening.
    Flash’s face shut down. He stood silently and made his way to the bed. I sat up, trying to match his stillness, and he moved so that his lips were brushing my skin. When he spoke, his tone was so low that I almost couldn’t hear it, like wind whispering along the sensitive shell of my ear.
    “Follow along.”
    I nodded. All the fear that had evaporated was gathering again, a dark cloud that rose up like crows from a field during harvesting. The heat I’d felt was threatened by cold.
    “Suck me, bitch.”
    My eyes widened and I leaned forward, reaching for his belt with shaking hands. Regret twisted in his face when he reached out to clasp my hands together, shaking his head. “Moan,” he whispered.
    I did, opening my lips in an O. His pupils dilated at the throaty noise.
    “Take it deep,” he said, pressing his forehead against mine before pulling back. His voice was harsh, aggressive. “That’s right. Harder.”
    One of his hands moved to my face and he popped his middle finger into my