Wild Desire: A Curvy Girl Steamy Romance (Wild Heart Mountain: Wild Rider’s MC Book 14)

The Harley throbs between my thighs as I cling on to Specs. The pavement rushes past beneath my feet, and the wind whips against my cheeks. It’s my first time on the back of a bike and my fingers dig into Specs’s waist as I press myself against him, certain he must hear the hammering of my heart through his jacket.

It’s exhilarating, and when we arrive at the clubhouse, I think about telling Specs to keep riding. I wonder what it would be like to ride with him up the mountain, to find a secluded spot, just the two of us.

I shake the thought out of my head. There is no way a man like Specs would be interested in me. He’s at least a decade older than me, and he’s a veteran. He’s had a life. What would he want with a spoiled twenty-three-year-old?

We pull up outside the clubhouse, and Specs parks at the end of a line of Harleys. Reluctantly, I slide off the bike and hand him the helmet. Our fingers brush, and electricity jumps between us. Specs’s eyes widen, and he looks away. He hangs up the helmets and I retrieve my purse from the saddle bag, wondering if I imagined the heat between us.

My heels clack across the pavement as we head into the clubhouse. I changed into tight black slacks and my only boots with a low heel.

As I walk into the bar area of the clubhouse, I’m greeted by loud cheers. Most of the club is here with their wives and kids. A Happy Birthday banner hangs above the bar, and there are streamers and balloons.

Isabella comes forward to hug me with a huge grin on her face. “Happy birthday!”

“Thank you,” I squeak.

My parents may have forgotten I was born today, but Isabella never forgets. I’m filled with warmth for my friend. Since she married Raiden, the MC has become her second family, and they seem to have adopted me as well.

Sydney hands me a cocktail. She’s Bit Rate’s sister and has recently returned to the mountain. “Happy birthday, hon.” Her silver bracelets jangle in my ears as she hugs me, and I get a waft of her strong perfume.

I sip the cocktail. I’m not a big drinker, but it is my birthday. More people step up to say, “Happy Birthday,” and I’m caught saying hello and catching up with the eclectic group of people who have become my friends. When I look around, Specs has faded into the crowd.

The lights go dim, and everyone starts singing “Happy Birthday.” Maggie comes out with a chocolate cake with blazing candles and sets it on the bar.

“Make a wish, bella,” says Isabella.

I close my eyes and think about the one thing I want. Next birthday, I don’t want to spend the entire day alone. I open my eyes and blow out the candles. As I do, my eyes meet Specs’s over the bar. He smiles and nods, and warmth fills me from the inside out.

“Birthday shots,” says Isabella.

My face falls and I tense.

“Only joking,” she cackles. “I’m pregnant, and you don’t do shots. But here, have birthday cake instead.”

Maggie cuts me a large slice, and I retreat to a table as everyone crowds the bar to grab their piece. As they do, I wonder if it’s an opportunity to sneak away. Not that I don’t like a party—I appreciate everyone being here—but after an hour of talking to people, my energy is waning.

One of the rooms at the clubhouse has been made into a nursery for the kids, and it’s often quiet. I take my cake and head in there.

Marco is asleep in the crib, and one of the older kids is playing with Legos.

I take the armchair in the corner, and with my cake in hand, I pull out my book; A Curvy Nanny for the Alien Overlord. I set the bookmark down on the armrest and settle in.

I’m not sure how much time has passed, but I’m startled by someone coming into the room. I look up to see Specs.

“Thought I might find you in here.”

He takes the armchair next to me, and as he sits down, his thigh brushes against mine. Sparks of heat shoot up my leg. I squeeze my thighs together and focus my attention on the man.

Specs picks up the invite I’ve been using as a bookmark and frowns as he reads it.

“I didn’t think you liked parties.”

“I don’t.” I frown, wondering if I sound ungrateful. “Except for birthday parties that have been thrown for me. They’re great.”

Specs chuckles. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I’m the same. I like seeing my people—but an hour or two will do.”

He studies the invite, and his finger traces the gold edging. “This looks fancy.”

“My parents sent it to me. Can you believe that? In the actual mail.”

Specs raises his eyebrows. “Don’t you live with your parents?”

“Yeah.” I sigh.

“Why didn’t they just give it to you?”

“I don’t know. It came in the mail today. I thought it was a birthday card.

“Ouch,” He mutters.

“It’s an annual party they throw for all their suppliers and distributors. It will be nothing like this casual get together at the clubhouse. No kids allowed, no cake, not shots.

“Everyone will look the same; the men in suits, the women in tasteful two-pieces, with designer jewelry and high heels. There will be champagne and waitstaff in matching uniforms and hors d’oeuvres so tiny you have to eat fifty of them to feel full.”

Specs looks at me. “Then why go?”

It’s a good question. I’m twenty-three years old, a grown adult. I don’t have to do anything for my parents anymore. Yet… there’s something in me that’s still hopeful. That maybe, if I turn up to their party and speak politely to their guests, they’ll notice me.

But there’s also the chance they won’t.

There’s a good chance I’ll turn up and speak to some of the guests. They’ll tell me how much I’ve grown into a beautiful woman. One of Dad’s friends will try to get hands-y. I’ll have to put my back against the wall, and after an hour, I’ll slip away and find somewhere quiet to read.

My parents won’t notice I’m there, and they won’t notice I’ve gone.

Anger flares through me suddenly, making me tremble. They should notice me. They should notice their daughter.

“Are you cold?” Specs shrugs off his leather jacket. He hands it to me and drapes it around my shoulders.

I don’t want to tell him it’s anger making me tremble. I wish there was something I could do to make my parents notice me.

“Thank you.” I pull it around me and breathe in the scent of him, leather and motorbike grease and old books.

“It looks good on you.”

He gives me a shy smile and curls the corner of his beard. There will be no one at my parents’ party with a beard. Perhaps a few older men with mustaches, not even ironic ones.

A thought bolts through me so suddenly I sit upright, and my book tumbles off my lap. I go to snatch it, but Specs gets there first. He glances at the cover and hands it back without saying a word about the alien overlord.

“Would you like to come to the party with me?”

Specs’s eyes widen, and heat flares up my neck as I realize what I just said.

“I mean as a fake date,” I add hastily. “Just pretend that you’re with me. It’ll give my parents the biggest shock of their lives. There’s no way they won’t notice me if I turn up with you on my arm.”

“You mean… a big greasy biker?”

I’ve offended him. “No,” I say quickly. “I just mean someone different from their world. Someone who’s real. Someone who’s not afraid to get a tattoo, and grow their facial hair, and wear leather because it looks good.”

He chuckles. “You want your parents to notice you, huh?”

“Yeah. I want them to notice me this year. To know that I’m here.”

I hold my breath, waiting for him to answer. I think about all the reasons this is a terrible idea.

Specs leans forward and puts the invite back on the armrest. His hand creeps forward until it takes mine in his.noveldrama

“I’ll be your fake date, Cassie, if that’s what you want. But I warn you, I’m going to make this the best fake date you’ve ever had.”