A HARD RIDE by Ruth D. Kerce
(Copyright © 2000, all rights reserved)

      Sara kicked the tire as she scanned the deserted road. There was nothing wrong with the tire, the engine was the problem, but she couldn't figure out how to kick the engine, so ...

      A fat drop of rain hit her cheek, and the wind swirled around her, picking up force. She glanced up at the gray clouds. Wonderful. A storm.

      She looked down the road, trying to decide what to do. It was equal distance back to town and the other direction to the small house she'd rented several months ago to get away from the fast pace of the city. Cutter's Bend seemed like the perfect solution. Slow-paced, quiet - a nice little town to settle down in.

      The sound of an engine drew her attention. Good. She'd hitch a ride. Maybe if she was lucky it would be the sheriff or his deputy on patrol. Even if it wasn't, she knew it would be one of the townies. No one else travelled this back road.

      In the distance, she saw a vehicle top the hill. Oh, no. A motorcycle. There was only one person in Cutter's Bend who rode a motorcycle - Ramm Bergrum.

      As he drew nearer, she could see his black hair blowing in the breeze. He never wore a helmet.

      His white t-shirt and faded jeans always looked one size too small, hugging his muscular body so tightly it should have been illegal. Leather boots graced his feet as usual. She sighed, not in any mood to deal with him today.

      He pulled up next to her and cut the engine. "Having a problem, sugar?" he drawled.

      His voice flowed over her like warm honey. She raised her chin, determined not to let it affect her. She wasn't about to go all moony-eyed over him, like the rest of the female population in Cutter's Bend. "It sputtered, then stopped."

      "Out of gas?" A dimple graced his right cheek as he smiled.

      The amused look on his face irritated her. "No, I'm not out of gas!" She took a deep breath. "Something's wrong with the engine." She hated asking him for a favor, but she didn't have any choice. "Can you take a look at it?"

      "Sorry, sugar. Don't know a thing about car engines. Hop on. I'll give you a ride back to town."

      His response surprised her. She just always assumed he was the grease-monkey type. She eyed his motorcyle with apprehension as a light rain began to fall, soaking through her silk blouse. She'd never ridden on a bike before. "I don't know ..."

      He wiped the moisture from his face. "Come on, sugar. I'm getting wet."

      "H-How do I get on?"

      He patted the seat behind him and smiled. When he answered, his voice lowered a notch and held a husky tone. "Just straddle it, baby, easy as can be, then hang on for the ride of your life."

      Sara felt her face flush. How did he manage to make a motorcycle ride sound sexual? "I do have a name, you know." Sugar, baby, honey - she'd always hated nicknames like that. She carefully settled herself behind him, but wasn't quite sure where to put her hands.

      As he started the engine and took off, she found a hold, tightly around his waist. Her heart accelerated with the motorcycle and she hung on for dear life, terrified of falling off.

      The storm hit full force just as they topped the hill. The deluge soaked Sara to the bone, sending a chill washing over her. She longed for her cozy, little house with the nice, warm fireplace.

      They took the next turn too fast - she knew it immediately. The bad visibility, slick pavement, and fast speed proved disasterous. They spun out, skidding into a clump of bushes along the side of the road.

      It all happened so fast Sara never even had a chance to scream.

      The first thing that registered was a heavy weight on her chest, and she realized Ramm was sprawled on top of her. "Get off me," she complained, her voice tight from the pressure on her lungs.

      He groaned and rolled away. "Geez, sugar. You put me off balance with all your squirming. Are you all right?" He rubbed his wrist.

      "I put you off balance?" she asked incredulously. She sat up and cringed at the bruise already forming on her arm. Her head hurt, and it felt like she'd twisted her ankle. The bushes and mud had cushioned their fall, thank goodness, or it would have been a lot worse. "You about killed us!"

      "I don't see any blood. Someone up there must have been looking out for us." Cringing and rubbing his thigh, Ramm stood and wiped the mud off his jeans. "Can you walk?" He held out his hand to help her up.

      She ignored his hand and staggered to her feet. Water dripped into her eyes from the rain, making her feel like a drowned rat. "How's the bike?"

      "It's not going anywhere anytime soon." He squinted toward the road, then back toward the trees. He pulled the motorcycle upright and pushed it forward, heading into the brush. "Let's go. We've gotta get out of this rain."

      "Where are you going?" She limped after him. "The road's the other way."

      "There's a cabin back this way. We can wait out the storm. It belongs to Old Man Crater. He's off visiting his daughter in Houston for a few weeks. I don't think he'll mind if we use it."

      Frustration, pain, and more than a little bit of unease snaked through Sara as she followed Ramm into the trees. Being alone with him in the woods, in a cabin, was not what she considered safe.

      Oh, she didn't think he'd harm her physically - emotionally was another matter. He had the uncanny ability to pull personal information out of her. And the last thing she wanted was to become personally involved with someone like him.

      They'd had a few encounters in town. He'd flirted shamelessly with her. She'd done her best to ignore him, but that was impossible. He seemed to instinctively know how to rattle her. "Slow down! I can't walk that fast."

      They cleared the trees, and Sara saw a cabin. It was small, but looked well-kept. Ramm stepped onto the porch, propped the bike against the front wall, and jiggled the doorknob. It must have been locked because he started feeling above the doorjamb and looking under the flower pots.

      Sara rubbed her arms. It was getting dark and cold. "Try under the mat," she suggested when she reached the porch. "It's so obviously the first spot to look that nobody ever does anymore. It's the perfect hiding place."

      He lifted the mat and smiled. "Bingo! Thanks."

      With a quick click, he unlocked the door and entered ahead of her. So much for chivalry, she thought with a frown.

      When she followed, she simply stood in the middle of the room, dripping water and unsure of what to do. Ramm had disappeared. She glanced around, and her heart sank. No fireplace. How on earth were they going to get warm? She didn't even see a thermostat to adjust.

      "Take off your clothes," Ramm ordered from the doorway across the room.

      Sara jumped at the sound of his voice. She turned and saw him holding what looked like two beach towels. "Excuse me?" He certainly hadn't said what she thought he'd said.

      With a sexy smile on his face, he sauntered up to her. "I said, take off your clothes, Sara."

      He had said it! His voice touched something long buried inside her, and she couldn't do anything but stare.

      He lifted a towel. "Wrap up in this. I'll make us some hot chocolate. Our clothes need to dry out. It's the only way we'll ever get warm."

      Uneasy about undressing, but knowing Ramm was right, Sara finally nodded. "All right. Where can I change?"

      "Bathroom's over there." He pointed toward the far corner of the room.

      She hurried over and enclosed herself in the tiny room. She checked her reflection in the mirror and groaned. Well, better she looked like a total mess. At least Ramm wouldn't hit on her. She certainly wasn't in any shape to fend off his advances, especially while both of them were wearing nothing more than a towel.

      She took her time changing. At first she left on her damp bra and underwear, but they stuck uncomfortably to her skin, so she decided to shuck them also. She'd just make sure to get nowhere near Ramm. He'd never know what was or was not under this towel. Thank goodness the towel was quite large, and she was able to wrap it around her body sufficiently.

      A knock on the door startled her. "You going to spend the night in there, sugar?"

      "I'll be right out." She checked her appearance in the mirror one last time. Too bad she didn't have anything to drape over her shoulders. The towels she'd found next to the shower were too small and would just continually slide off. Oh, well. Shoulders weren't erotic - she didn't think.

      Sara opened the door and slipped out into the main room. Immediately, she realized how wrong she'd been. Shoulders were very erotic - especially on a man like Ramm.

      He stood near the window, looking out at the rain. His towel was wrapped around his hips, leaving his torso bare. His broad shoulders filled the window and made Sara think thoughts she shouldn't.

      Flickering light drew her attention, and she turned toward the sofa. The breath caught in her throat.

      Ramm must have heard her gasp, for he turned, and a smile lit his face. "It's about time. The hot chocolate's ready."

      "I see chocolate is not the only thing that's ready," she replied in a voice that belied her nervousness and building outrage. He'd pulled out the sofa bed and lit candles all around. The hot chocolate had been set on the small table beside the sofa.

      Ramm smiled like a man who held all sorts of sexy secrets. "I'm always ready to accommodate a lady. However, it's not what it looks like, sugar. I can explain."

      Sara crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling very, very naked. "Then explain."

      "A spring in the cushion had popped through. I didn't figure you'd want to sit on my lap, so ..."

      "You unmade the bed," she finished for him. She glanced around the room. No chairs, and a wooden floor, so much for comfort. "I assume there are some chairs in the kitchen."

      "Just a bench seat - no back, no padding."

      "How convenient ... or rather inconvenient, depending on your perspective. And the romantic candles?"

      "Are they romantic?" A smile tugged at his lips. "The storm's getting worse. I figure it's just a matter of time before the electricity goes off. I wanted to be prepared." He held out his hand. "Come on. Join me on the bed. I promise not to jump your bones, but you're going to have to promise me the same thing."

      He wiggled his eyebrows, and Sara couldn't help but laugh.

      She took his hand; his skin felt so warm against hers. "I refuse to promise," she teased. As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. She felt a blush stain her cheeks. What had made her say that? She never flirted with men - well, practically never.

      Ramm raised her hand to his mouth and caressed her knuckles with his lips. His gaze locked with hers, but he didn't say anything.

      Sara's heart thudded so hard, she was sure he could hear it. She wanted to look away and couldn't, wanted to pull her hand away and didn't, wanted to protest and instead sighed at the feelings of desire stirring within her.

      He pulled her closer, and she could feel his heat, like a furnace. He placed the palm of her hand on his bare chest, over his heart, and she felt his heart hammering as hard as hers. He tangled a hand in her hair and angled her head for his kiss.

      With a strength she didn't know she possessed, Sara pushed him away. "I'm not one of your conquests."

      A look of shock crossed Ramm's face before he masked it with a smile. "But you were tempted?"

      "Do you really need the ego stroke?"

      He laughed. "You were tempted." This time it was a statement, not a question. "Shall we move to the bed?"

      "You'll keep to your side?"

      "We'll see." He grinned and headed for the sofa bed.

      "Don't you ever think of anything but sex?" She followed him across the room.

      "I think you've been listening to too many rumors, sugar." He sat down on the bed and stretched out his long legs, which were bare from the knees down. "I think of lots of things. Sex is just the most interesting."

      Sara didn't respond to that. She sat on the far corner, keeping her distance as best she could, but the sofa wasn't very big. It had folded out to barely a double bed. She glanced toward the window. "It doesn't look like the storm is letting up."

      "No, it doesn't," he responded, never taking his eyes off her. "I think we're stuck here until morning at least."

      Sara nodded. This was going to be a long night. There was no way she'd be able to sleep. Not next to Ramm. "What do we do now?"

      "That's a loaded question."

      "I'm serious."

      "Okay." He cleared his throat. "How about a bedtime story?"

      "Bedtime story?" She eyed him warily, wondering if he was serious, or if this was just one of his jokes.

      "Or ...," he grinned, "we could snuggle under the covers."

      It sounded so harmless when he said it, but she knew it wouldn't be - not with him. "I'll go with the story."

      "Darn it!" He snapped his fingers, then shifted positions as if trying to get comfortable. "All right, but no interruptions. I'll lose my place. Agreed?"

      "Okay, no interruptions." Why not? Maybe a story would put her to sleep, then when she woke up, it would be morning, and the storm will have passed. "Go ahead."

      Ramm appeared thoughtful for a few moments. "Okay."

      He smiled slyly, and Sara knew he was up to something, but she didn't say anything, just waited to see where he would go with this.

      "Once upon a time ... there was this really studly guy. He had a reputation as a babe magnet, but that really wasn't the case. Actually, he was a pretty lonely man.

      One day he saw this woman, who knocked him off his feet. She was a bit of a snob, but he didn't hold that against her. Deep down, he knew that she was the one.

      She'd barely give him the time of day, but then fate helped him out and brought them together.

      She couldn't ignore him any longer. He quickly learned that she had the hots for him too, but she was a good girl and had felt uncomfortable about letting her feelings show.

      Lucky for her, and him too, they found themselves isolated from society, so she didn't have to feel intimidated by what others might think. He'd never tell anyone, if she didn't want him to. But in his heart, he really did want to shout it from the rooftops.

      He drew her into his strong arms and felt her tremble. Kissing her was all he'd thought about since the moment he first saw her. Now his fantasy was coming true.

      Unable to resist any longer, he covered her lips with his. His tongue swept into her mouth, and she tasted so good that he dreamed of tasting her in another more intimate place - wondering if she'd let him.

      She was hesitant when he led her over to the bed, but he assured her it would be all right.

      Slowly they undressed each other. He loved her body - soft and supple. He hoped she liked his body, too. He knew how to use it to bring pleasure, and he intended to bring her the ultimate pleasure over and over again."

      Sara held up her hand, stopping his story. "Okay, okay. I get the idea."

      A look of innocence crossed his face. "What do you mean, sugar? It was just a story." He scooted closer to her. "Did you like it?" When she didn't say anything, he sighed. "What's it take to get through to you, Sara?"

      "Honesty."

      "I was honest." He again scooted closer. Tentatively, he reached out and traced the line of the towel covering her breasts. "This is honest."

      Sara's heart hammered against her ribs. How could such a light touch affect her so much?

      Ramm leaned forward and lightly touched his lips to hers. When she didn't pull away, he settled his mouth more firmly on hers, deepening the kiss.

      Unable to resist--just like in his story, Sara responded, slowly at first, then with a passion she didn't know she had.

      Gently, Ramm tugged the towel away from her body. Cool air wafted over her bare breasts.

      Ramm broke the kiss and stared down at her, a small smile on his face. He lowered his head and his tongue brushed across one nipple. Sara gasped at the sensation.

      "Did you like that, sugar?"

      She couldn't find her voice. And when his tongue slid down the plain of her stomach, she couldn't find her breath.

      Ramm pulled the towel completely off her, leaving her fully exposed. He pushed her thighs apart and placed soft kisses along the inside of her legs.

      Throbbing with need, Sara laced her fingers through his hair and raised her hips in a silent plea for fulfillment.

      "What do you want, sugar?"

      "You-you know," she gasped.

      "Say it."

      Sara shook her head. "I've never--I can't. Please, Ramm."

      He clicked his tongue. "That's such a shame. If you don't tell me, how am I supposed to know what you want me to do?"

      She pushed his head between her legs.

      Ramm chuckled and settled his mouth over her.

      Sensations exploded through Sara's body, taking her higher and higher as his lips and tongue worked their magic. Just before she climaxed, Ramm pulled back and kissed his way up her body.

      Sara moaned in disappointment. "No, please. Why'd you stop?"

      "I want to torture you a little." He chuckled. His lips grazed her cheek, then he whispered in her ear. "Get on your stomach."

      Her heart hammered ferociously, and her gaze sought his. "What are you going to do?"

      He smiled down at her as he reached out to caress her breasts. "Something you won't ever forget."

      Sara swallowed hard at the intensity in his eyes.

      Maybe fate had brought them together. He'd said his bedtime story was honest. She'd been lonely for so long. If the tenderness she saw in his eyes was true, then maybe this was the start of a new life for both of them, and neither of them would be lonely again.

      Sara rolled over on her stomach ...

THE END