Arrogant Bastard | Summerz

Chapter 1

I wondered if the vibration between my legs would feel good.

The sun hit the chrome of a Harley Davidson parked a little further on, making it glisten in the stifling midday heat. stifling midday heat. I waited until it finished playing Maroon 5 on the radio, strangely mesmerized by the two-wheeled toy as I searched for my cell phone in my bag. The bike was simple - black and silver, shiny, with worn leather saddlebags decorated with a skull engraved under the initials N.K.

How enjoyable would it be to ride it? The wind blowing through my hair, my arms wrapping around a person with a dangerous surname, the engine purring between my jeans-covered thighs. Wait a minute. No. I don't know the name of my imaginary biker.

I looked at my iPhone and saw half a dozen new messages from Jay. I smiled inside. Surely no one called Jay would ride a Harley. Throwing my phone back in my bag, I turned off the engine of the crammed BMW and looked into the back seat. The boxes stacked to the ceiling were beginning to make the normal-sized car seem claustrophobic.

A bus full of tourists parked in the driveway. Good. I'd better go in and get lunch now, otherwise I'd never get out of there. After a ten-hour drive from Chicago to Temecula, California, I was somewhere in the middle of Nebraska, and I still had about twenty-odd hours of road ahead of me.

After a fifteen-minute wait for a Pepsi and a Popeyes fried chicken that I planned to eat in the car, I stopped at the souvenir shop. I was very tired and had no desire to drive another five hours before finding a place to sleep. Yawning, I decided to stop and look around for a few minutes. Checking out a few trinkets, I ended up picking up a miniature Barack Obama and shook it without thinking, watching his crazy smile as his head bobbed up and down.

- Buy it. You know you want to," a deep, husky voice said behind me. Startled, my body reacted instinctively, and the miniature slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor. The head separated from the spring neck and rolled away.

The woman at the checkout shouted:

- I'm sorry, ma'am. You'll have to pay for that. It's twenty dollars.

- Damn! - I grumbled, heading towards where the head had rolled. As I bent down to pick it up, I heard the voice behind me again.

- To think that some people say he's got his head on straight. - The accent sounded Australian, it was sexy.

- You think that's funny, asshole? - I asked, before turning and looking for the first time at the owner of that voice.

I froze.

Ah. Oh, shit.

- You don't have to play the 'bitch' about it. - Her mouth curved into a mischievous smile as she handed me Obama's body. - And, just to be clear, I thought it was very funny, yes.

I swallowed hard and I think I lost the ability to speak when I saw a goddess in front of me. I wanted to rip off that arrogant smile on her face - beautiful, sculpted with her perfect Asian features. Shit. This woman was too hot, not the kind I'd expected to find there. We were in the middle of nowhere in the United States, not in the Australian outback, for God's sake.

I cleared my throat.

- Well, I didn't think it was funny.

- So you need to relax and cheer up. - She held out her hand. - Here, princess. I'll pay for the damn thing. - Before could reply, she took the two broken pieces, and I cursed the shiver that ran down my spine at the brief contact of her hand brushing mine. Of course, on top of everything else, it had to smell amazing.

I followed her to the cashier while I searched for money in my messy purse, but she was much quicker and paid.

She handed me the bag with the broken miniature.