Free Bikers Don't Use Brakes (Hellbirds Motorcycle Club) by Adrienne Shaw Page B

out and hooked her car up. He wore coveralls and no longer sported his leather vest.  Strangely, the one-piece work wear seemed to emphasize his broad shoulders and slim hips. He tapped on her window and said, “Sorry, you can’t be towed with your vehicle. You’ll have to ride up front with me.”
     
    A wistful sigh slipped out before Sonya smiled and nodded. He helped her climb up into the cab of the truck with a hand on her upper arm. His touch sent sweetness coursing through her body. She had to concentrate to keep her weak knees from folding before she was seated. She couldn’t remember ever having a reaction like this to any member of the male species. She felt like she was under the influence of some powerful drug, and she had a bad feeling that it could be addictive.
     
    After he had climbed into the driver’s side, checked the side mirrors, and started the truck, he looked over at her and said, “I’m Derek. Derek Neal.”
     
    “S-Sonya,” she said and feasted her eyes on his rugged face briefly, before turning quickly and looking out at the passing landscape. She didn’t want him to notice her flushed face. Her whole body felt flushed. In the most delicious way.
     
    “Quite a lonely spot,” she said.  She found that if she didn’t look at him, she could manage to get a few words out. “Lovely, though.”
     
    “So where you headed, Sonya?” He asked.
     
    The way he exhaled on the second syllable of her name felt like a caress. “A- Albuquerque. For the Balloon Fiesta.  American Woman magazine commissioned a piece on women of the air.”
     
    “It’s not a one-day deal, is it? ‘Cause we may need to order a part for your car. It could take a day or two.”
     
    She shook her head and managed to avoid gazing at him in wonder. His capable hands on the steering wheel captured her attention. God, they were perfect. Like what a hand model of a working man would look like. She wanted to touch them. She wanted them to touch her.  Soothe her heat, or stoke it. Sonya inhaled deeply and looked out the side window at the passing scenery. She looked inward and tried to locate and pump up her professional self. She needed to beat down the wanton woman who had possessed her. “I’m not too worried. It’s a nine-day event, and I can miss a day or two.”  Her lips slipped up into a half-smile as she congratulated herself on sounding professional.
     
    Derek reached behind the seat, lifted the lid on a small cooler, and handed her a cold beer. Then he pulled one out for himself, popped the top, and drank deeply.
     
    She stopped herself from commenting on the advisability of drinking and driving and held the cold can against her forehead before opening it. She would just sip it, she decided, because she was already feeling woozy enough just being in his company. But, the ice-cold beverage slipped down her throat and felt surprisingly refreshing.
     
    When she realized the beer was almost gone, she asked, “Why did you come back?”
     
    He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, “I saw you sitting on the side of the road and thought I would bring the tow truck back, but when I saw the Wilson brothers heading in your direction, I thought to save you some trouble.”
     
    “Th-thank you, Derek,” she said without risking a look at him. It felt good saying his name. “I did think they looked unsavory, but I wasn’t sure …”
     
    “Unsavory,” he repeated and looked over at her and nodded. “That is a fitting adjective for that pair.”
     
    Sonya finished her beer and then said, “You’re not wearing your colors now. I think that’s what they’re called.”
     
    Derek nodded again before he said, “Colors are for club business. This is just business business.”
     
    Sonya nodded and looked around as they entered the small town of Elkington. Derek made a couple of turns and then pulled into a garage that had a big D on the sign. Inside that large letter were the words