My Biker Bodyguard

My Biker Bodyguard by J.R. Turner Page B

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Authors: J.R. Turner
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thinking.
Clear your head, Mitch, this is not cool.
Especially at a time when it didn't seem to matter how
careful he was. This case left him feeling like a grade-A
screw-up. If he didn't blame himself, he had to believe the
powers that be were against him, tempting him into laziness
and…lust. Then again, blaming an unseen force was like
accusing the baby of stealing the candy first.
Jess stood, half hidden near the lobby doors, hands tucked
into her back pockets, waiting for his nod. Her t-shirt blazing
white in the hot sun, the crown of caramel-colored hair pulled
high and glowing bronze, made her appear an angel set down
on earth. Maybe it wasn't too hard to believe that someone
upstairs tempted him after all.
Mitch nodded, releasing her to come across the parking
lot. She straightened and strode to him, her hips slightly
forward in that way she had.
He didn't believe in fate and karma and all that new age
stuff, but he knew he had won fights when he shouldn't have,
beat the odds when most couldn't have, and escaped the mob in
New York where men better than him had become underwater
members of the concrete-shoe society. This had to be a test.
Jess went right by him, got into the driver's seat and
slammed the door. The window rolled down and she held out
her hand for the keys. "I'm driving."
Mitch leaned down and through the open window, noticed
her mouth was rosier than usual. He remembered the cause,
and grimaced. Definitely a test. "Sorry, Darlin', but I need to
drive."
"Don't call me darlin'" She smiled, that adorable dimple
flashing. How could anyone look so sweet, but so seriously
determined at the same time? "Give me the keys, or I'll hotwire
her and leave you standing here."
He searched her face, saw she was serious beneath the
warmth in her voice, and growled. If he didn't know she
handled the muscle car like an ace, he never would have
agreed. Because Jess could be bullheaded, he took the path of
least resistance. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"Sure do." She took the keys from him and gestured with
a bob of her head to the passenger seat. "You comin' or what?"
"I'm comin'." He went around the nose of the car and
glared at Mordstrom and Davis who both grinned. The agents
had seen the whole thing and were taking great pleasure in
watching Mitch jump into the passenger seat. He stifled the
urge to give them the bird, and instead, snapped his sunglasses
on.
Mordstrom answered by revving his engine once. Jess
turned the ignition, taking his cue and going a step further. She
returned the rev with a roar form the Mustang and a grin of her
own. The heavy engine made the agent's car sound like a
wheezing cat. Mitch smiled and wiggled his fingers in a tootleloo wave at the disgruntled looking men.
Jess spun out backward and paused, letting Mordstrom
nose his car alongside her so Davis could speak through the
passenger window. "We'll be riding behind you. Use your
signals and keep us in your review mirror at all times."
"Will do," Jess said, but she sounded ready to race him out
of the parking lot.
"I mean it, Miss Owen." Davis all but shook a finger at
her. "Maybe you should let Mitch drive, men are better at this
type of thing."
Mitch groaned and tightened his seat belt.
"And what type of thing is that, Agent Davis?" she asked,
much too sweetly.
"Well, defensive driving." Davis frowned, obviously
realizing he was on dangerous ground, but unwilling to give in.
"You just keep us in your rearview mirror."
"And you just keep up with me." Tires squealed on
asphalt as she popped the clutch and shot them forward. Blue
haze filled the air, obscuring the agents for a moment before
they goosed their car onto the road.
Mitch couldn't help it. He threw his head back and
laughed. "Damn, I take it back. You're not impossible, you're
crazy."
She grinned at him before she whipped the wheel and
plastered him to the door in a too-tight turn. "Thanks."
Forget gorgeous, sexy, and willing. He preferred

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