Free Easy Rider: An MC Erotic Romance by Kristin Fletcher Page B

revealing and she would have balked.
     
    The skirt would not have been her first choice. It was short and revealed more of her legs than she preferred. Men liked her legs; so, she hid them as often as she could. Regardless, the royal blue skirt was plain, smart, and as Annie had said, professional looking. The low-heeled sandals were open-toed and flirty. She hoped no one would notice her feet, since her toenails were unpolished. She wanted to paint them, but ran out of time. Her friends were only willing to wait so long for her to get ready.
     
    The club was located was about ten miles from the dig site. It was a popular venue. When their  van pulled into the parking lot, it was already three-quarters full. Like Ria, most of her friends hadn’t left the dig for an outing in over a month. She knew some of them were likely to let their hair down. She really wanted to join them. She was overdue for a night of mindless, but harmless entertainment. She still found it difficult to overcome her fear that something untoward would happen if she let her guard down.
     
    Getting out of the van, she noticed a couple of Harley-Davidson motorcycles on the far side of the parking lot. It wasn’t a good omen. She started to worry that something would go wrong. She had no experience with bikers, but they had a reputation of which she was fully aware. She didn’t know if the bikers’ reputations were warranted and she had no desire to find out how much was truth and how much fiction.
     
    As she turned to walk into the building, a loud roar disturbed the quiet of the summer evening. Several more Harleys headed towards the club. Ria stopped and watched as they swung into the lot, parked next to the two other bikes, and dismounted. The bikers appeared relaxed and laughed among themselves. They milled around and waited until they were all ready. Then, they started towards the entrance.
     
    As she looked them over, her eyes were drawn to the tallest among them. He was well over six feet. He had the beginnings of a beard and long, straight black hair hung loose around his face. He had the widest shoulders she had ever seen on a man. He was standing almost sideways to her. For the moment, all she could see was his profile. His straight nose, strong jaw, and high cheekbones reminded her of the movie stars’ features from the 1940s and 50s.
     
    She watched him say something to the two bikers nearest him. Then, he turned in her direction, focused on her, and met her gaze. From where she was standing, she couldn’t see the color of his eyes, but his stare was disconcerting. He was at least twenty–five yards away; yet, she felt the effect of his attention.
     
    He smiled at her. It was as if he knew the effect his eyes had on her. For some reason, she offered a tentative smile in return. Almost immediately, she realized it was a mistake. In an effort to correct her error, she looked away. Then, she turned sharply and hurried into the club. She reminded herself that she had decided earlier in the evening that there would be no fraternizing with the locals. It didn’t matter if they had the panty-wetting potential.
     
    The tall man’s eyes followed the leggy, strawberry-blonde into the club. He wondered who she was and why she left in such a hurry. He didn’t recognize her. Regardless, he’d find out who she was soon enough.
     
    Jamison Knolls hadn’t wanted to come into town. Since he was a decorated veteran, the American Legion invited him to the unveiling of a memorial for the casualties of the wars in the Middle East. He couldn’t turn them down. The other members of the Demon Riders Motorcycle Club had exhibited none of his reluctance. Although the ceremony was not until the following morning, they were eager to come into town for the evening. He had agreed. Given the nature of their work, his team deserved some downtime.
     
    He’d been reluctant to accept the invitation because he wasn’t good with praise. He was likely to