Sloane
SloaneBo drives downtown and parks beside a row of motorcycles in a lot behind what looks like a nightclub. The city is hopping. Young people pack the back patio and music thumps from inside.
We both dismount from the bike, and I pull off the helmet.
Bo crowds into me, his eyes still glinting silver, his form still tense and angry. He wraps a fist in my hair in the back and brings his face right up to mine. “You’ll take it to the grave with you,” he growls.
I suddenly understand his tension. I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see.
“What you saw back there. You won’t speak a word of it to anyone. Ever. Understand?”
Ever.Menacing Bo is frightening, but it turns me on. Knowing the cocky roguish flirt—the guy with all that easy-going charm—turns into a two hundred pound deadly w
