STICK: MC ROMANCE NOVELLA (Forsaken Riders MC Romance Book 8) by Samantha Leal

Red welts immediately appeared on his smoothly shaven cheek and Sage determinedly squelched the surge of guilt that threatened to swamp her. She would not apologize, especially when he totally deserved it.
    He stared down at her, his eyes as hard as ice chips in his angular face, and then he enunciated coolly, “I suppose some men find that a turn on, perhaps among your clientele; but I assure you, inflicting pain won’t get you anywhere with me.”
    “You are just determined to be a jerk,” she cried, stamping her foot in frustration.
    “I won’t ask you again, please make yourself scarce, Senorita,” he said, pinning her with a level look that told her he meant business.
    Sage rolled her eyes. “I’m not a prostitute, okay? I had a dare with my friends, for crying out loud. Everyone does something crazy like that every now and then. You would know that if you were not some uptight country bumpkin without any exposure whatsoever.”
    His lips twitched a little at that one and Sage glared murderously at him; she was on a roll and he thought something was funny? Was he laughing at her?
    “If you so much as lay one more depraved finger on me, I’ll slam a lawsuit on you so fast, it will make your ancestors dizzy,” she promised furiously.
    This time, he was definitely laughing at her. His eyes twinkled as he boldly stepped closer to her, his dark gaze searching hers. “Allow me to make amends. Please. I was obviously very wrong in my assessment of your person because I put one and one together and came up with eleven. Let me make amends, please.”
    He was so earnest, sincere and eager; or at least he seemed that way, and Sage felt her anger give way, draining out slowly until she was weak with the loss of all that energy.
    “What’s your name?” he asked, still fighting a grin as he watched her deflate like a balloon.
    “Sage. Sage T a   Talbot,” she supplied, watching him, amazed at the transformation in his features now that he had stopped glaring at her. She didn’t think it would be terribly wise to tell this stranger her real name.
    “Will you do me the honor of having dinner with me, Sage?” he invited, his dark eyes boring into hers.
    “ I I’m already having dinner with my friends,” she told him. “Besides, you’re a strange r ”
    “I would like to change that. Please. I could never sleep with this on my conscience,” he added dramatically, splaying one large palm over his heart.
    Sage giggled. He was a rogue all right. “Okay, fine. But my friends may not really enjoy one more person at our table.”
    As if! Her friends would probably slobber all over him at dinner, she thought with an inward chuckle.
    “Have you ever been to Spain? Taken in the sights at night? Let me give you a tour without your friends,” he cajoled softly.
    Was it her imagination or did his eyes light up with that gleam men got when they wanted to have hot and heavy sex? Well, lobby guy hadn’t seemed interested in her before, so why the sudden interest, she wondered, all alarm bells ringing in her ear.
    She stared at him speechlessly.
    As though he had read her mind, he said softly, “I know, given how we met, you’re wondering just how safe you are with me. Smart.”
    “Smart?” she asked, frowning up at him.
    “Yes smart, because I can’t promise not to bite,” he told her, his dark gaze flicking from her face to her lips, stroking down her firm, rounded breasts, her waist cinched with a belt that emphasized her hourglass figure, and her generous hips before scanning her long silky legs exposed by the knee-length gown.
    His meaning was as clear as the nose on her face. She waited for her affronted sensibilities to arise but all she felt was a quickening of her pulse.
    “I don’t even know your name,” she protested weakly, her pulse hammering at the base of her throat so wildly that she was half-afraid he could hear it.
    He grinned, a triumphant smile that was pure male and told her, without