Named by the Outlaw
July Dawson
I’ve heard all about the motorcycle gang who stops in here sometimes. They’re bad news. But then there’s the tall, muscled
gangster who winks at me over the counter and rescues me from his smirking friends. I tell myself to be smart, but I can't help longing for him. He seems... kind. Good. Despite the patch.
But I guess he must be bad – and so am I – because otherwise, we wouldn’t have wild sex behind the diner. Can anyone so good in bed really be bad news?
He rolls out of my life with a roar of the engine… and when he comes back, he comes back with trouble.
But I want his kind of trouble.
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