Page 16 of Riot’s Revenge

“Rude.”

“You’re still crushing me.”

A low laugh escaped me before I finally rolled off her onto the grass. I pulled the condom off, tied it, and shoved it into my pocket before zipping myself back up as she got her scrubs back on and pulled down her hoodie.

Maria sat up first, tugging her hoodie back down while I watched her. “You’re staring again,” she muttered.

“Yep.”

“Starting to think you’re creepy.” She shook her head, trying not to smile while fixing her hair.

I pushed myself up and grabbed my kutte from the ground. Dirt clung to the leather, but I didn’t care.

Maria froze suddenly, hands going to her hair. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“There’s probably grass everywhere.”

A smirk pulled at my mouth before I stepped closer and pulled a small twig from her curls. That tiny movement did something strange to the air between us.

“We should go,” she said quietly.

“Probably.”

Neither of us sounded convincing. I helped her onto the back of the bike before pulling my helmet on. The second the engine roared to life, Maria’s arms automatically wrapped around my waist. My hand settled briefly over hers once before I could stop myself. Just possessive instinct, I told myself. It was nothing more.

The ride back felt different. It was quieter. Not awkward, just . . . changed. Cold wind tore around us while city lights blurred past, but all I could feel was her pressed against my back, her fingers curled into my shirt, and the warmth of her cheek between my shoulders when she rested against me. By the time I pulled up outside the clinic, my head was a mess of bad decisions and sharp brown eyes.

Maria climbed off slowly before handing me the helmet. “Thanks for the ride.”

I nodded once, eyes fixed on her beneath the streetlight.

She turned toward her car before I stopped her. “Maria.”

She looked back at me immediately, and the streetlight caught the flush still lingering in her cheeks.

“You working tomorrow?” I asked, trying for casually.

A faint smile pulled at her mouth, letting me know that it hadn’t sounded as casual as I would’ve liked. “Maybe.” Her smile widened slightly before she shook her head and stepped backwards toward the building.

I watched her all the way to the car and waited until she got in safely and pulled away.

Only then did I finally light a cigarette. One hookup, that was all it was supposed to be. So, why the fuck did it already feel like something else?

8

MARIA

We never talked about what we were doing, but somewhere along the line an understanding settled between us anyway. No relationship or dates. Just sex.

At least that was what I told myself every time Riot showed up outside my apartment looking unfairly attractive and entirely too confident for a man who spent most of his time threatening people.

It became routine faster than it should have. Once a week at first. Then twice. Suddenly, Riot was appearing outside the clinic near the end of my shifts or leaning against his bike outside my building. He never texted first or asked if he could come over. He just showed up and I always let him in.

The rules between us settled naturally without either of us saying them out loud. No expectations. No jealousy. No sleeping over. Casual. That part mattered because I had exams in a few weeks and enough stress already without adding an emotionally unavailable biker into the middle of my life. I’d spent much of my early life bouncing from one foster family to the next, never staying long enough to make any connections. Until I was fifteen and was taken in by an older woman named Delores. She was kind and loving and the only person to have ever cared for me. Then she got cancer, and I became her carer. It was what encouraged me to go into nursing, so I could help care for other people’s loved ones. When I was twenty-four, Delores died. I threw myself into work and training, and what little friendships I had, drifted away. That was five years ago, and I hadn’t looked at a man until Riot.

Riot clearly wasn’t built for relationships anyway. Half the women in the city looked at him like they wanted to climb him, and he knew it. Which was exactly why I kept reminding myself none of this meant anything every time he touched me.