Riders - The Road To Ruin (I) by K.M. Liss Page B

headed for
things of more pressing importance... a drink at the bar.
    Joshua Lyle, the head honcho and no-good
son-of-a-bitch, stood before me.
    He was the hottest, sexiest, most
self-assured piece of attitude on the planet.
    He could well have the words 'come hither,
and thou shalt be burned' tattooed on his dick.
    I may be inexperienced with men, but I knew
his type. Bad news. The type my mom had made mistakes with. She
openly admitted she went for the wrong sort. She was drawn to looks
and bad attitude and here was a prime example of it.
    His swept back brown hair spoke to female
fingers, calling out to them to grab it; his wicked hazel eyes
stole a girl's soul, and he had the kind of lips you'd want to
devour from dusk till dawn.
    “Eight beers, sweetheart.” His deep voice
rumbled through me like thunder. “Mickey put that on my tab will
ya, pal,” he called across to Mickey who raised a thumb in
acknowledgment.
    “ Okay ... there you go,” I muttered,
as I grabbed the bottles from the cooler and popped the lids,
lining them up on the bar. He passed the other three guys two
each.
    He leaned over the bar, on his forearms,
cocked his head and slowly fucked me with his eyes.
    It was a lazy look that
said, you don't wanna know the kind of things I'd like to
do to you.
    I bristled with indignation and annoyance,
while I burned beneath his gaze.
    He smiled widely, flashing his perfect white
teeth.
    “So...you're new to Olson, I guess?” he
asked.
    “I don't live here. I live in Preston,” I
explained politely, trying to keep my smile cool.
    Preston was the town next door, seven miles
away.
    “What's your name, girl?”
    “Tiffany.”
    “ Tiffany. .. pretty name.”
    “What's yours, boy,” I addressed him in the
same lowly manner as he'd addressed me and pretended I didn't know
his name or that his pop owned half the town, and the surrounding
zillion acres of farmland. Not to mention the bar I was standing
in.
    “Joshua, call me Josh.”
    “Oh, can I?” I wasn't sure if my sarcasm was
lost on him, but he did raise an eyebrow,
    His eyes continued to roam very openly over
my scantily dressed body.
    The bar uniform Mickey made us all wear didn't cover too much skin. I hesitated to
call it a uniform. Underwear would have been a more apt
description. It consisted of low cut black satin hotpants,
monogrammed on the back pocket with a silver R, and a stretchy
rhinestone-studded cropped black vest. I'd completed the brief
ensemble with black over the knee socks and my black converse
trainers. With my long blonde hair secured in a high pony tail and
bubblegum pink lipstick, I thought I'd managed to achieve a naughty
cheerleader look, rather than than the intended biker tart.
    Mickey had insisted I try on the micro
hotpants at my interview, explaining that
I needed to have the right sized ass for the job. He then proceeded
to have a hands on feel of my female assets, to ensure I wasn't
carrying too much padding up top. That had stunned me into enraged
silence, but the heavy slap to the rear shocked the hell out of me.
I'd been unable to keep silent any longer.
    “ Do you mind ?” I'd snapped at
him.
    “I can't say I do...no...” he sniggered,
dirtily, “when can you start, sweetheart?”
    He'd served up his sexual harassment with an
on the spot job offer. And he hadn't even looked at my resume.
Warning bells rang loudly in my ears at that point, but I needed
the job.
    Not that Mickey really bothered me that
much; he was just a pain in the ass, and a creepy, dirty jerk-off;
I could handle him. He didn't cause me to lose much sleep.
    I smiled at Joshua, briefly, telling myself
sternly that h e was not as smoking hot as he
seemed and definitely not the most gorgeous guy I'd ever
encountered. But my eyes knew I was lying. They kept straying his
way to get a bigger visual fix.
    I was pretty sure Joshua Lyle wouldn't ever
need to pay for extras. He'd get any girl he wanted for free.
Especially here, where his pop owned