The rest of the world disappeared. It was just Sarah and Garrison alone on the mountaintop with their love for each other. Or was it just l.u.s.t for each other? Whatever it was, for the moment, Sarah was experiencing things she had never before thought her body was capable of. And it seemed to go on forever. Finally the stars exploded and her loud groan of climax carried across the valley like the roar of a hungry bear.

Then they were silent. They lay panting and holding tightly to each other as they slowly came down from what had just occurred. Gary was still on top of her. Their bodies were now cool from the night air and slightly sticky from sweat. He rolled off of her and shifted his body so that he could cradle her in his arm as she snuggled into his shoulder.

They lay atop the picnic table holding on to each other and staring at the bright stars overhead for a long time. Finally Sarah broke the silence. "That was the wildest and craziest thing I could ever imagine doing."

"No it wasn't," answered Gary.

Sarah looked at him in surprise.

"I'm sure that there are many wilder and crazier things," he continued, "that you could think of to do even yet tonight. You just refuse to see them and keep them all bottled up inside you so that you will never do them."

"No I don't," countered Sarah. She almost sounded like a small child denying that she had been the one to take the last cookie from the cookie jar.

"Yes, you do, and I'll prove it." Gary replied. "Promise me that in answer to my next question you will say whatever pops into your mind. Whatever it is, promise me that you will say out loud the very first thing that pops into your head when you hear the question."

Sarah laughed nervously and nodded her head.

That was not what Gary was looking for and he pressed her further, "No, say your answer out loud, too, so you know you have to do it."

"OK," Sarah answered. "I promise that I will tell you the very first thing that pops into my head when you ask me the next question."

Gary laughed and said, "Now, listen carefully. What is the wildest and craziest thing that you could possibly do before tonight is over?"

Sarah found herself answering quickly and automatically, "Leave my clothes lying here on the ground and ride naked with you back to my place."

Had it not been so dim, Gary would have seen that she immediately blushed a very, very deep shade of red as soon as she said those words. The way it was, he could feel the sudden heat in her skin all along his as they lay together on the blanket.

"So what is preventing you from doing that if it isn't you bottling up all your craziness?"

Gary took the long way back to Sarah's Place. Dawn was beginning to paint the sky as he pulled up behind the bar to drop her off. She stood nude next to his bike. As she leaned over to give him a goodnight kiss, he said to her, "So you don't get all worried like you did tonight, I'll stop by an hour or so before closing tomorrow. That gives you almost twenty hours to think of something wild and crazy for us to do." He gave her a quick kiss and added, "Think about it."

"I will," she answered.

Gary reached down and suddenly his bike returned to its normal very loud state. He roared off into what little was left of the night, and Sarah began to key the entry code into her back door. As she did so, she said very emphatically, "Believe me, Gary, I will definitely think about it."

Liked Drink Deep, Ride Hard? Below are some of Emily Stone's other works to enjoy! Tap the covers for a sample

ELLEN GRAVES.

Free Bird.

Ellen Graves.

Joelle rubbed her hands together for warmth as her engine warmed up. It was early spring but the chill of winter lingered on, as did the death of her father. Dead on Christmas Day. She hadn't been there, but the coroner had said he had died instantly. The exit wound was the size of a grapefruit, he had said. All so some no-name vagabond pa.s.sing through could get his five bucks.

Lorenzo Flotilli had been a proud, principled man with a big heart and a warm laugh. It was just five bucks, dad. Nothing was "just" anything to Lorenzo, however. He fought friends, he fought family, and he fought to win. Some punk was nothing to him, the same kind of lowlife he had schooled as a boy. But now you're gone, forever.

As she drove down to the corner shop, each burden he had left sank into her mind like a nail in a coffin. The leftover balance for the funeral expenses. The barren fridge. The broken coal heater aggravating her little brother Jimmy's cough. Her sister Josie's alcoholic boyfriend, who battered the screen door every Friday night in his red rages.

Please G.o.d, I'm not asking for a knight in shining armor. Just give me a little help here.

Things had been so simple before Christmas. College, flirting with boys, and moving forward in life. Home had seemingly tangled its roots back around her, pulling her backward with no escape. She went through her shopping in a haze, not even the morning air or the freezers seemed to faze her.

I can't do this forever. Once Josie graduates she'll have to take over. If Josie did graduate. The boyfriend was sinking her grades and the very thought of staying another year made Joelle's arm feel listless and weak. The weight of the bread and milk was becoming too much to bear.

The line in the corner shop was silent and glum, a ma.s.s of people absorbed in their own problems. And then, like thunder cracking through the pall, Joelle heard a voice.

"Oh hey, Lorenzo's kid, right?" His voice was gravelly yet resonant, teeming with smooth grit. She turned and saw the man in the line next to hers. He towered over her and his leather jacket creaked with his tightly corded muscles. Her eyes traveled up his lean, fit chest and beheld a masculine face.

Eyes as gray as storm clouds stared down on her with a intensity that made her heart flutter. A strong chin and high cheekbones suggested an ability to take a punch. His silver-streaked black hair told her he was a veteran of many things, maybe even war. His features were craggy yet statuesque, as was the rest of his body. Weathered yet strong.

She put her hand above her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and caught her breath. "Oh... uh yes. I'm Joelle."

"Ah yeah... yeah, that's right. Knew it was J something. The man always had a thing for J's, could never figure it out."

She shrugged and looked down, wistful with remembrance. "Neither could I."

"But yeah, you're the one who wasn't half bad."

Joelle wasn't sure how to take that. Did he mean she had some kind of reputation, or her siblings did? Or that she was prettier than her sister? She wasn't some skinny thing like Josie, she had inherited her mother's Mediterranean curvaceousness. The prominence of her chest jutted far forward, even under multiple warm layers. Her bottom was not very well concealed and strained her tight denim jeans.

The way the man looked at her thick thighs and hips told her all she needed to know about what he had meant by "not half bad." Still, she teased him about it. "Oh, and was there a daughter who was all bad?"

He chuckled as both moved up their lines. "All bad is just fine, that's how I like 'em. Bad is good, but sometimes good is better."

"My sister could use that advice."

A glint of recognition sparked in his piercing eyes. He flashed her a smile that made her warm in the chest. "Lady, you could tell her who's good and who's bad all you want, it ain't gonna change a d.a.m.n thing."

The warm kindling in her heart turned into tense flames. "My sister isn't stupid," she said sharply.

"She's stupid for love."

"Getting slapped around isn't love."

He laughed like it was all a game to him. "But it's a start, ain't it? Once she gets all hot between the legs it's hard to tell what's love and what's not..."

His words rang too true. She couldn't count the number of times she had seen Josie s...o...b..ring on her man after they'd had a gla.s.s-shattering fight. But still, Joelle had reputations to protect.

"If you knew her, you'd know she isn't like that."A darker thought came across her mind. Maybe he knows because he was like her boyfriend... or still is?

The man's eyes had not lost the light of amused indifference. He peered through her lies like flames through the fog. "I know women, and in this town it's always like that."

Protest rose in her throat but was cut off by another. "Hey! You two gonna check out or what?" The balding clerk glared at them both while the customers behind them coughed awkwardly.

The man cracked a smile at the clerk. "Sure, Joe." He turned his head to Joelle.

"I'll see you around, Jee..."

"Joelle."

"Right, another Joe!" He looked to the clerk. "Think this one's got you beat, Joe. Smells better, too." The clerk grunted.

The man gave Joelle one last look. "The name's Liam. Was fun."

Yeah. She watched him more than she had intended and then blushed when he caught her gaze. Despite their friction, Liam had taken her mind off her troubles. And when he left, the life of the store went with him.

For the first time since Christmas, a smile lingered on her face.

As Joelle started her car, the sound of ignition was drowned out by the roar of a powerful engine. She looked in her side view mirror and saw Liam driving up beside her on his customized Triumph, streaked in vivid reds. Oh, well that explains everything.

His motorcycle came up to her window and he looked down on her like a knight greeting a maiden atop his horse. Have a feeling he doesn't have a suit of shining armor.

"Hey look at you! Nice bike!"

"d.a.m.n right! Your daddy knew how to ride one of these bad boys, but I gotta say, toward the end, he was veering more toward those G.o.dd.a.m.ned sports bikes." He revved the engine and a blast of thunder shook through Joelle's car door and down into her bones. Her nerves tingled with excitement and she hoped he'd do it again.

"Yep, he was a fan of all sorts of bikes. Easily pleased."

"Too easily, if you ask me. What do you say you come by my club, and see what your father loved so much? It'll be fun."

She would have loved nothing more. Liam was a man who seemed to be always moving forward and some part of her wanted to be a part of that momentum. But then the sting of her responsibilities came to mind. "I can't, I really have to drop this off. My brother is sick"

"No, not right now, later!"

"Oh, yeah, I knew that. That's what I meant. I could come by." She knew that she shouldn't, that her siblings wouldn't suddenly stop needing her. I need a break or I will break, and then I wouldn't be any good to them. Liam was rough, the kind of man that her father would've driven away. He came off as so solid, and yet she had the creeping sensation that he could bolt away at any moment, off to some new adventure. Like a ghost. Still, he knew her father, and in a way learning to ride would reconnect her with her father, at least in spirit. She could never say one final goodbye, but she could feel what he had once felt.

"That's what I like to hear. I'll see you on Friday night at Moonies, it'll be ladies' night so behave yourself!"

Before she could respond he roared off on his bike, leaving her ears ringing and a certain... hunger and longing for more.

"Well, that was presumptive." Good thing he's a hot biker or else She caught herself. When she was a teenager she had vowed not to do anything stupid, like get mixed up with the wrong men like her sister. This promise had served Joelle well, but her quick liking to Liam gave her pause. Just because he's a biker doesn't make him bad, does it?

She pushed her thoughts aside. She didn't have time for them. Jimmy would be waking up soon and Josie would need her ride to work.

And Liam, a king in black with his metal steed, waited in the future. She couldn't wait.

Inside Moonies, Liam held court with the rest of his gang. The Black Mesa MC had staked out the bar as their own, the rest of the customers' conversations drowned out by the roaring laughter of the bikers. Like a herd of black beetles huddled over the bar's tables and chairs, they shifted and drank but never moved far.

The backs of their leather jackets were all embossed with various renderings of a high mesa outlined in white or silver thread. The black leather lent the rock formation the midnight hue characteristic of their club's name.

It being ladies' night, Liam knew that their higher profile would put his boys on their best behavior. The incentive to roughhouse dropped off when there was fresh tail on the loose. Hopefully none have eyes for the same broad, he thought. His eyes roved over the crowd until they fixed on a waitress making her way through the a.s.sorted shoulders and elbows. Is it Suzie? Or Stacey? Nah, it's always Ashley these days.

Her Daisy Dukes shorts highlighted her tanned thighs, fit and toned from years of walking and standing. Bright blonde hair bounced to her step, as did perky b.r.e.a.s.t.s, though Liam took it be an extra effort on her part to be so buoyant. Do what you gotta do for tips. She flashed him a cheesecake smile as she dropped off his whiskey.

"Anything else I can do for you, handsome?"

He grinned and gave her a light slap on her tight cheeks. Encased in poured-in-place denim, they stretched to be free. "Just keep the shots coming, Ashley!"

Her eyes flared with mock outrage. "My name is Sasha, mister!"

Ain't that some Russian s.h.i.t? "Ah knew there was some ash in it. Sa.s.sy a.s.s Sasha it is!" He held his shot gla.s.s up and all the men toasted, downing whatever they had in their gla.s.ses and mugs. As she walked off, every man's eyes were glued to her bottom, bouncing with each step as if supported by shocks; all but Liam's. Of the many women who had come in free, many were already hanging and writhing on his men, eager to be close to the legend of the Black Mesa club but not brave enough to get close to the legend himself. The man whose record time for crossing Texas had never been beaten. and the man who'd led Feds and three different state police on the greatest chase the country had ever seen. But that was a long time ago.

Unlike the Black Asphalt maniacs who'd gone out guns blazing the previous year, Liam was keen to keep the group honest and respectable. For him, one brush with the law was enough. One brush with Joelle, however, deserved another.

His eyes brightened with a certain sharpness when he saw her come through the door, her face innocent and confused. The gaudy lights and haze of smoke had disoriented her. The veteran biker's eyes drank in her voluptuous form, with her thick legs and soft arms, her shirt low-cut enough to showcase a window of cleavage accented with a cross dangling down the middle.

Hot d.a.m.n. Dressed to impress.

He called out and waved his hand above the huddled ma.s.ses. As she came up to him he could tell it was one of the more uncomfortable walks of her life. She budged her way past men leering at her generous chest and inched past women whose eyes were guarded and distant, their whispers like hisses in each other's ears.

"Hey!" she said, mustering a smile. She threw her arms out wide and Liam hugged her, relishing the feel of her heavy b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his strong chest. She's soft as h.e.l.l. Like cream. Didn't know anything from Lorenzo could be so sweet. She held the hug longer than he expected and sighed into his ear. She sounded relaxed and content, as if a great burden had fallen off her shoulders.

He pulled away and wrapped his arm around the small of her back, just above her enticing backside. "Glad you could make it! Let's go up top! It's quieter!"

As they headed upstairs she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and he grinned. I like this night already.

Joelle relaxed in Liam's hold as her heart pounded. Did I kiss him too soon? It wasn't on the lips... but why did I do it in the first place? Even though they still had to go through a ma.s.s of people to get to the stairs, she felt different from when she had first walked through the crowd in the bar.

Having Liam lead her through, effortlessly pa.s.sing through the sea of humanity, just made her feel better. Whatever people were thinking didn't matter with him at her side. Those little judgments, venomous glances, and hushed words used to mean the world to her, but now they were like wind.

He made her safe. And yet not safe from him. He didn't say anything about my clothes. Maybe he's one of those types who doesn't say anything until he doesn't like it? She had hoped to impress him and at the same time not stand out too much from the other women.

At school, like in the bar, women would say nothing if she was covered up. Just a big girl who knew her place in the herd. But once she revealed her deep cleavage and wore tight jeans, then came the snide accusations of "s.l.u.t," cruel laughter to the words "fat" and "stupid." She had stepped out of the box they had put her in and grown into her weight, accepting her curves.

Whether anyone from her school was in the crowd, she didn't know, and didn't care. Liam was here.

On the bar's balcony it was as silent as a cave, compared with the ear-straining cacophony below. The few people there got a lot quieter once Liam came into view. From the balcony stretched the long highway and the desert, trampled by the stretched shadows of the waning sun as it dipped below the horizon.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" said Liam as he slipped a cold beer into her hand and rested his arms against the balcony.

"Yeah," she said absentmindedly, her eyes mesmerized by the reddish purple shadows saturating the golden dirt like ethereal paint. Don't be stupid, say something more!