Wilde Ride (2 page)
First Sighting
I will never forget the day that I first saw
him
.
I was out for my usual morning run, jogging along the main street in town listening to Miranda Lambert’s “Fastest Girl in Town” on my iPod, when I heard and felt it over my music. I didn’t know what to make of it, but it was loud and rumbled through my entire body. The vibrations sent sweet sensations from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. When I turned around out of curiosity, there was a group of around sixteen motorcycles roaring towards me. I swear it was just like you would see in one of those badass biker shows.
I turned my head back to the road in front of me after I was done staring and ran head first into the big light pole that was sticking out of the ground. I mean how in the fuck could you miss something like that?
Everything went black.
When I opened my eyes I thought I was in heaven. The most beautiful man I have ever seen was right in front of my face saying something I couldn’t make out. I was finally able to understand what he was saying when he pulled the headphones out of my ears.
“Are you ok?” Holding up two fingers, he asked, “How many fingers?”
“Two,” I replied.
God, he was gorgeous. He had shaggy, chin length dark brown hair that fell into the most beautiful blue eyes. I could see a tattoo on his neck peeking out of the collar of his leather jacket that said ‘Only God Can Judge Me’. It was totally badass and hot. My fingers itched to reach out and trace the letters inked on his skin. I was so mesmerized by him that I didn’t realize he was still speaking to me, so I asked him to repeat what he was saying.
“Do you think you can sit up or do we need to bring you to a hospital?”
He had the most sensual voice I had ever heard. He must have girls falling at his feet and out of their panties.
“I think I’ll be ok,” I said.
When I went to stand up, he held onto my arm to help steady me. I could feel the electricity from his fingers where he was holding me.
“I’m more than okay,” I stammered.
He gave me a funny look and finally let go of my arm, it still tingled where he had touched me. I felt a little light-headed and knew I was swaying when I noticed the buildings in front of me going side to side.
“Ah!” I cried when I almost landed back on the ground, but never made it there. Instead I found myself holding on tight to the hardest body I have ever felt or laid eyes on.
The next words out of hottie biker dude’s mouth were, “Whoa babe, you’re really fallin’ for me hard, aren’t you?”
Even though I was pretty sure I had a concussion, or suffering from brain damage and not quite thinking right, I knew he was being a smug, arrogant ass.
The next words out of my mouth were, “WHAT THE FUCK?! I could have killed myself and you’re giving me lame pick-up lines!”
I’m pretty sure that Jax Teller would not do that on
Sons of Anarchy
(which is one of my favorite television shows). I mean really? He is hot and all, but all he had on his mind was getting him some.
“Seemed like a real good idea at the fuckin’ time,” he said, followed with a sexy, crooked grin.
“I suppose you’re going to tell me next that there’s a mirror in my pocket because you can see yourself in my pants.”
He leaned towards me, with his mouth brushing against my ear and said, “I was actually gonna invite you to a party, beautiful.”
“Really?” I asked, a little too enthusiastically.
“Yep…a party in my pants,” he chuckled out loud. Even though he was being a jackass, it still seemed to make me hot and bothered.
I shoved him as hard as I could and continued to run in the direction of the rental home I was staying in. I heard him yell out to me, “See you around babe!” and I heard all the other biker guys laugh.
“In your dreams, go fuck yourself!” I said while giving him the finger, which led to the guys laughing even harder.
Even though it wasn’t the most romantic encounter (nothing like you’d see in the movies), there was just something about this guy that I couldn’t get out of my head. To my disappointment, I never saw the mysterious biker the rest of my trip.
I never did forget him. In fact I pretty much obsessed over him for the next year.
The Wilde Ride
After graduation, I had a couple of months to spend time with Payton and her family, and I broke things off with Matt. He was surprised when I told him that I felt we were more friends than boyfriend/girlfriend. I told him that I would miss and always care for him and I would love to remain friends. It was not a look of happiness that I saw on his face when I was explaining myself to him.
I also had to point out that he would be living on the east coast and I would be on the west coast. How would we ever make a long-distance relationship work? Let’s just say that he did not like the fact that I was breaking up with him. If I mattered that much to him, he would have made more of an effort while we were going out.
Maybe, it didn’t help that I couldn’t get a certain badass biker off of my mind.
****
It’s now the middle of August and I am finally in sunny Del Mar. Payton and Karen helped me move and stayed with me for a couple of days. While they were here, I showed them some of the places I love going to in town. They also helped me unpack all my things and decorated my apartment. My apartment is so cozy now that I just wanted to curl up on the sofa with my eReader and never leave.
Unfortunately, I had to leave my cozy little apartment because I started my new job at Del Mar Regional High School today. I am sitting in my classroom going over the lesson plan for this morning before the students show up for classes, when Brent Walker, the Physical Education teacher, walks through the door. He is attractive with messy, light blonde hair, green eyes and amazing dimples.
Brent shoots me a dimpled smile. “Hey Ella, how’s your first day going?”
“So far, pretty good. I’ve looked over some of my student files to get familiar with where they are with their abilities and met with some of the other teachers, as well. Now, I’m just going over my lesson plans for this morning.”
“Sheesh, woman. What time did you get here to accomplish all of that already?”
“About an hour ago, I guess.”
“I think I was still in bed an hour ago. Not hard to tell it’s your first day because you seem eager and way too excited. Give it a few days and that’ll pass.”
“I’m sure it will once I’ve gotten used to it.”
“So, I was wondering. Would you like to grab a drink with me this afternoon, after work?” he asks, nervously.
“Sure, I’d love to Brent.” He was hot, why not? “Okay, I’ll meet you in the teachers lounge at four o’clock,” he says, shooting me a grin and walking out of my classroom.
It’s just after four o’clock in the afternoon. Brent offered to drive me to the bar, which is about a five-minute drive from the school. When we reach our destination, I can’t help but think to myself ‘
Really, this is where we’re
having a drink
?’
The paint on the outside of the building is peeling. A couple of the windows look cracked and there are several motorcycles parked in front of the bar. I look down at what I’m wearing, which is a white camisole with a little gray cashmere sweater, a black pencil skirt and black stiletto heels and my hair is worn up in a chignon. Yeah, I’m totally not going to fit in here.
Brent, sensing my discomfort, tries to reassure me by saying, “You look great, Ella. We’ll be fine. I’ve come here a couple of times with some friends and nothing happened. It’s all good.”
I take my hair down and run my fingers through it. That’s better; I feel a little more casual.
The sign above the door says, ‘Wilde Ride’ and I can’t help but think about the sexy biker from last summer and about the kind of wild ride I could have with him. Whoa, where the hell did that come from Miss Virgin? I stifle a laugh and enter the bar entrance with Brent close behind me, his hand pressing on my lower back.
The inside of the bar looks just as rundown as the outside. On the plus side, it is clean looking.
It’s really busy here and I can’t help but notice that most of the customers are attractive females wearing very revealing clothes and are well endowed. I look down at my cleavage and wonder if I should pull down my camisole a little bit to show off my girls.
Nah, don’t be stupid, Ella.
We spot two stools by the bar and quickly go snag them before someone else does.
The bartender turns around and I make eye contact with a very familiar (and did I mention gorgeous) pair of blue eyes. I can’t help the small shiver that goes through my entire body. Of course, I would run into him here. I try not to look at his body with that white t-shirt, tight across his chest. Oh God, he still looks amazing!
“What can I get ya?” he asks, pulling me out of my stupor of staring at his chest, wondering what it looks like underneath.
He totally just caught me. I can tell by the sexy smile that makes me melt on the bar stool.
Does he remember me? God, I hope so
. Now, I’m really rethinking the cleavage issue. I should have definitely adjusted my camisole to show off my assets. I grin at my wicked thoughts.
Brent asks me what I would like and I tell him a Budweiser.
“Two Buds, please.”
I don’t know if I imagined it, but it almost looks like he scowls at Brent before turning away to get our beers. He returns with our bottles and then walks toward the opposite end of the bar to serve some other women waiting there.
I can’t help but notice their reaction to him as he’s taking the orders. They constantly reach out and touch him, laugh at things he says and stare at him with lustful eyes.
What a bunch of whores
, I think to myself.
The whole time Brent is talking to me, I can’t really concentrate on what he is saying because I can feel a pair of steely blue eyes on me. It makes me squirm on my bar stool.
Brent excuses himself to use the washroom and as soon as this happens, I feel a rush of warm air hit the back of my neck and in my ear I hear a whispered, “Ditch the fuckwad and meet me back here when I get off at eight.”
I didn’t even think about it, I just nod and respond with a breathy “Okay.” He smiles, turns and walks away from me.
Brent returns and asks me if I would like to go back to his place for a drink. I lie to him by telling him that I’m really tired and need to get home to get some rest for tomorrow morning, but maybe some other time. I can’t believe how easy it is for me to lie to him so I could spend some time with my biker.
OMG!
My Biker
, I so did not think that.
Shortly after we finish our drinks, we get up and head towards the door to leave. Taking one last look towards the bar before leaving, I notice the bartender watching us. He winks and then looks like he mouths the words, “Later, babe.” Brent takes me back to the school to retrieve my car.
****
It’s now eight o’clock and I have returned to the Wilde Ride. I am sitting at the bar anxiously waiting. I feel someone brush along my side and sit on the stool next to me.
“Hey Babe!”
“My name’s Ella Scott, not babe,” I state, trying to glare at him.
“Ryder Wilde. Told ya, I’d see you around.”
That answers my earlier question. He does remember me. Yippee!
“Ryder Wilde?” “Wilde, as in the Wilde Ride? Do you own this fine establishment?” I ask sarcastically.
“Yes, Ryder Wilde and I do own this place,” he replies. “Wanna beer, beautiful?”
“Does that line work on all the girls?” I ask.
Really, this guy is a piece. Piece of what, I’m not entirely sure yet. Yes, he screams strong male ego, but could he pull off a conversation by saying more than five words at a time and not grunting?
“You’d know if that was a line, sunshine,” Ryder drawls. His voice was a mixture of sex, passion, and testosterone.
“You obviously aren’t used to the bar scene,” he adds.
He is the star of my fantasies, all because of the sound of his voice. God, I’m a sucker, a sucker with no life.
I eye him over the glass of draught he ordered for me. His muscled body is hidden (but not well) under a tight t-shirt and snug, worn dark wash jeans. Thinking back to the first time we ran into each other, I couldn’t help but remember how hard his body felt.
This is the kind of guy that would push you against the wall in a fit of passion and have his dirty way with you, whenever, wherever and however he wanted. Oh God, I am in trouble.
“What makes you think I don’t frequent bars? I’ll have you know, I was a regular at several bars in my hometown,” I counter.
