“Ready to roll?” he asks.

I grunt my ascension as I step out the door and pull it closed behind me. “Where we headed?”

“Over to Manteo,” he says as he follows me down the outside stairwell that leads to the parking lot. “That chick I was with the other night said there’s a great bar over there that serves po’ boys and cheap beer. She’s going to be there.”

I grunt an acknowledgment, remembering the woman Kyle was with the other night. We had gone to some dive bar we stumbled across when we had been out cruising around and ended up getting so trashed, I had to cab it back to my hotel. I had found Kyle fucking said chick in the men’s bathroom, right up against the wall. I turned my body around quickly to avert my eyes and said, “I’m heading out, man.”

Kyle just grunted at me while the sounds of slapping skin came at me faster. The woman started moaning, and Kyle managed to huff out, “Later, dude,” while he plowed her against the water-stained wall. I hastily exited the bathroom and pulled the door closed behind me, but not before I wanted to pour acid in my ears when the woman cried out, “Give it to me you, you big stud.”

“Her name’s Jenny,” Kyle says conversationally as we make it to our bikes and mount up. “She sucks dick like a damn Hoover.”

I snicker as I put my helmet on. “You’re a poet, man.”

“Well, it’s true,” he says as he nudges his kickstand up. “And this is the point that you reciprocate.”

Turning my head to look at him, I cock an eyebrow and say, “Not sucking your dick, dude.”

“Douche,” Kyle grumbles and then leans back in his seat, planting both feet firmly on the ground to hold the bike steady. “I mean, this is where you share with me a little bit about Casey. You hooked up with her, right? Four damn days, man. You’ve been silent and it’s killing me.”

Ordinarily, I’m all about swapping stories about great pussy. It’s a man thing… bragging about the details and comparing the lengths of our dicks, which seem to get longer with every story. But for some reason, I’m not in the sharing mood when it comes to Goldie.

“She’s a nice girl,” I say and then reach out to my ignition.

Kyle reaches over and knocks my hand away. “Oh, fuck no, you don’t. You do not get to lay ‘she’s a nice girl’ on my doorstep and expect me to be satisfied with that. She’s a fucking fifteen, dude.”

A million. Not a fifteen. A million on that ten-point scale.

“You want details?” I ask him with a grin.

“Fucking aye.”

I lean in toward him conspiratorially and murmur nice and low. “She was fantastic, man. In to all kinds of kink. Let me tie her up and whip her with a rubber hose, then she let me fuck her in every way imaginable. It was epic, man.”

“Are you serious?” he asks in jealous wonder.

“No, I’m not fucking serious,” I say in exasperation as I straighten back up and reach for my ignition again.

“If you give me one true detail, I promise to tell you everything I learned about her from Andrea. And trust me, dude, I learned quite a bit.”

My head swivels slowly to Kyle, who smirks at me with fonts of untapped information just waiting to be poured out. I appraise him, trying to figure out if what he knows is worth giving him something in return.

Fuck yeah, it is.

“You’ll spill it all for just one tiny detail?” I ask to confirm the rules.

“All of it,” he says as he leans closer to me, his eyes wide with anticipation.

I shake my head as I look down at the pavement, a wry grin forming on my face. When I raise my eyes to look back at Kyle, I reach my hand back to my ignition. Just before I start my bike, I tell him, “Man… she tasted sweeter than anything I’ve ever had on my tongue before.”

Kyle’s eyes go round and a Cheshire smile forms. “And just where did you have your tongue?”

“That’s all you get, dude,” I tell him with a hard look. “And when we get to Manteo, I want all the details about her.”

I start my bike and rev the engine a bit just to drown out any more questions from Kyle.

By the time Kyle got done telling me all about Casey Markham while we munched on po’ boys, I had come to a clear and absolute resolution in my mind that I would be wasting my time trying to figure her out and reach that untouchable part of herself she’s been holding back. And Kyle had discovered quite a bit while he and Andrea pounded beers the other night at her house while Wyatt was on duty.

Apparently, Casey Markham is indeed a one-of-a-kind woman as I suspected. From what Kyle could gather, she’s like the male version of… well, pretty much any single man that’s prowling around these days. She truly is the Queen of One-Night Stands, which fine… that rubs me a tiny bit wrong even though I know that’s hypocritical, but after having her once… I don’t like the thought of her “one night-ing” it with anyone else.

The real kicker, though, was when Kyle told me that Andrea was completely shocked that Casey showed any interest in me, because I’m apparently not the type of man she normally hunts. Yes, he said the word “hunts” like Casey is in it for the sport, but I don’t know if that was his word or Andrea’s.

The way Kyle told the story—with a bit of relish, I might add—Casey is only interested in super wealthy men who can give her pretty baubles in exchange for some amazing fucking. While Kyle didn’t come right out and say it, I was getting a clearer picture of a woman who uses rich men.

She must have gone slumming when she decided to give this biker a try, I think wryly.

Do I feel used?

Fuck no. I had an amazing time with Casey and don’t regret fucking her one bit.

Am I looking at Casey in a new light and questioning everything about her that once intrigued me?

Fuck yes. She’s an enigma, and while I thought maybe she had some provocative backstory, which made her different from all other women, it turns out that she’s just a commitment-phobe who eats rich men up and casts them aside.

More power to you, baby, but that’s not the type of game I’m interested in.

And this was probably for the best, as I was leaving to head back to Raleigh in two days to spend time with Zoey. Bri had sent me a text assuring me that they would be back this coming Friday, and when I talked to Zoey last night on the phone, she told me the same.

So I’m going to put Casey out of my mind, and I’m going to enjoy my last few nights here on the coast. Starting right about now as my gaze flicks to the headlights in my rearview mirror of the car that’s traveling behind me, which I happen to know holds a beautiful woman that would be easy enough for me to fuck Casey right out of my memories.

This evening is taking an interesting turn of events. After po’ boys and a few beers, Kyle was lip-locked with Jenny and I was half expecting he’d drag her into the bathroom to fuck her again. He surprised me, however, when he suggested we head back to Nags Head because he wanted to meet up with Andrea at The Last Call for a few beers.

This idea was fine by me. I had no clue if I’d see Casey there or not, but after what Kyle had told me, I wasn’t all that keen to see her again but I could definitely ignore her if need be.

Okay, that was a fat fucking lie too. I wanted to see her again. I wanted to fuck her again. I wanted to ask her why she was the way she was, and after she told me, I’m sure I’d want to fuck her again after that.

However, that scenario is probably not going to happen, because as we were finishing up our last beer, a friend of Jenny’s rolled into the bar. Her name is Mallory, and she’s hot. Just hot enough that I can keep my mind preoccupied with something other than Goldie, and Mallory made no bones about being interested in me. This I knew from the way she sat next to me and rested her hand on my thigh. Or the way she giggled and twirled her hair while sucking on her bottom lip when I talked to her. Or, it could even be the way in which she point blank told me that she wanted to fuck me. Yeah, that made it kind of clear.