Page 5 of Taming Trickster

I clutch the thin fabric of my dress tighter, trying in vain to ward off the cold night air. Trickster seems to notice my shivering.

"You also belong to...to a motorcycle club, don’t you?" I ask hesitantly.

He scrunches up his nose for a moment before giving a curt nod.

"You could call it that, I guess. But we're a different kind of MC from those Outlaw scumbags." His expression darkens. "My boys and I, we're the Rogue Riders. It's our job to protect this town from those lowlife thugs."

Protect the town? They sound more like violent vigilantes to me. But I know better than to say that out loud right now. This massive slab of a man just saved me from a horrific fate - I shouldn't provoke him.

Seeming to sense my rising discomfort, Trickster's hardened expression softens slightly. In one smooth motion, he shrugs out of his leather jacket.

"Here, can't have you catching a chill on top of everything else," he rumbles, draping the heavy jacket over my shoulders.

A faint flush rises to my cheeks as I tug the jacket tighter around me.

"A-Are you sure?"

He lets out a gruff chuckle. "I shouldn't. Our leather jackets are everything to us but ain't nobody going to find out except you and me. And if they do..." He fixes me with an intense look that makes my knees go a little weak. "Well, let's just say I’ll make sure they won’t say a word about it. And, besides, I don’t think you’d tell anyone, right?"

Something about the way he says it, the underlying protectiveness in his voice, makes me believe he's not really threatening me. If anything, it seems like he'd go to great lengths to keep me safe and out of harm's way. I'm not sure if that notion should reassure or unnerve me more.

"Now c'mon," Trickster continues, gesturing to his motorcycle. "Like I said, I got a place we can hole up nearby while we figure out what to do about your...situation." He grimaces faintly. "Forced into marrying one of those dirtbags? Over my dead body"

"Thank you," I murmur, tugging Trickster's heavy leather jacket tighter around my shivering frame.

The warmth and masculine scent surrounding me are oddly comforting after everything.

Trickster gives a curt nod. "Fast, please. We need to get going before the cleanup crew arrives. Don't want you caught up in any of that ugliness."

A frown tugs at my lips as I keep wondering just what sort of "cleanup" he has planned for those Outlaw Riders. But I know better than to question him right now. This mountain of a man has already saved me once tonight - I won't provoke his ire.

"How are we getting wherever you're taking me?" I ask instead, glancing around the deserted gas station parking lot. There's no car in sight, only Trickster's idling motorcycle.

He must notice my gaze lingering on the sleek bike because the hint of a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"That a problem? You never ridden before?"

I can feel my cheeks flushing at his crude phrasing.

"Ridden? You mean on a motorcycle? No, I've never..."

Trickster lets out a bark of laughter that has me flinching. "Relax, just messin' with you. But really, you've never been on a bike before?"

When I shake my head, he shrugs.

"Well, no time like the present to pop that cherry."

I'm fairly certain my face is beet red at this point from his suggestive language. Trickster seems to realize he's made me uncomfortable and clears his throat.

"Ain't nothing to it, just gotta hold on tight and lean onto me," he explains in a gentler tone. "Here, c'mere, and I'll show you."

Taking me by the elbow, he guides me over to his motorcycle and swings his muscular leg over the saddle. Even sitting, he's nearly at eye level with me - he's just that big.

"Alright, time for you to climb on up behind me," Trickster instructs, patting the space on the seat behind him. "And I do mean hold on tight." His eyes crinkle at the corners as he flashes me a roguish grin. "Wouldn't want you falling off and getting yourself hurt."

Nervously, I approach the motorcycle. It looks so big and powerful. How am I supposed to just climb on that thing?

Trickster must sense my hesitation because he lets out a gruff chuckle.