Fantasy Boyfriend (A Tattooed Bad Boy Romance) (4 page)

I carried the last slice of pizza up to my room from
the kitchen. We had ordered three large delivery pizzas, a mix-and-match
pepperoni and sausage, one with “the works,” and one with just plain cheese on
top, which is what Desiree preferred. I took the last piece of one with “the
works,” peeled off the sardines, and with a paper plate in one hand and half a
can of soda in the other, I made my way up the stairs, made a U-turn, and
walked down the short hallway and to my room. I had filled the girls in about
my first day of class, and they had done likewise. Nothing terribly exciting
for any of us, except for the fact that Luke was taking advanced chemistry and
happened to come into class late
and
sit down next to me. The others were making a big deal out of it. I was
curious, no doubt about it. I hadn't pegged Luke for an advanced chemistry kind
of guy. Then again, I didn't really even know what kind of guy he was.

I sat down on my bed, munching on the now cold piece
of pizza, contemplating. Finally, brushing the crumbs of the pizza off my bed,
I pulled open the drawer of my bedside table and reached inside for my diary. Flipping
open the pages, I reviewed what I had written the previous week about my dream
guy. As I reviewed my criteria, I began to shake my head. No way was a guy like
Luke going to meet my criteria. In fact, as of right now, the only thing that I
could put a checkmark next to was the word "tattoos."

I plumped my pillows and sat back, bending my knees
and placing my diary against my knees as I began to jot some comments down on
the blank page. Was I being silly? Was I being foolish? It was the first day of
school for crying out loud, and I really had no business focusing so much
attention on a guy, not even a guy as handsome and captivating as Luke. I
didn't even know his last name! What was I thinking, agreeing to go out on a
date with a guy when I didn't even know his last name?

The girls seem to think I was silly worrying over such
details. All that mattered to them was that he was handsome, sexy, and of
course, that he was real-life flesh and blood. That thought had me glancing
toward the small stack of books on the bottom shelf of my bedside table. They
teased me endlessly about my reading tastes. Smut books. Bodice rippers. Soft
porn. I knew that they were just teasing and I didn't take their comments
seriously because most of the time, while my romance novels certainly had some
sex in them, I was captivated by the chemistry of the relationship between the
hero and heroine.

What exactly was it that I was looking for? I wanted a
guy like the romance writers portrayed in my favorite books. Basically, I
wanted someone I could count on, someone I could trust. Yes, someone that could
protect me, not that I specifically needed protecting, but one that I knew, if
the chips were down, would put me first.

I might be a hopeless romantic, but I had no respect
for men who turned their backs on women and children. I knew the days of
chivalry were over, and that I, as a woman, wanted to be thought of as
independent and self-sufficient, but thousands of years of evolution were still
ingrained in me. I didn't necessarily expect men to open the door for me, pull
out a chair for me, or dote on me. Nevertheless, I did want to know that the
guy I was with wasn't a sissy, a pushover, or a coward.

So Luke had tattoos. He certainly had charisma, which
could or could not mean that he was a womanizer. For all I knew, he could be
gay! I doubted it, at least not the way he flirted and he had asked me out,
after all – but you never knew. Was he an alpha male? Again, I couldn't be
sure. He certainly seemed confident and assured of himself, although whether he
was that way because he knew he was good looking or because he was actually
confident remained to be seen.

Rich? Doubtful. All of the rich guys that I had met in
my life were snooty, self-important pricks who thought they were better than
anyone else. It seemed like Luke relied on his charm more than an aura of
wealth, which led me to believe that his charisma was not the result of money
or family influence, but habit. Was he great in bed? I had no idea, and I
wasn't sure I wanted to find out. He was certainly a good kisser, but that
didn't guarantee anything. The last thing I wanted to deal with was another
uncomfortable, awkward, and less than pleasurable experience in bed, which I
had experienced the last time I had slept with a guy.

Thinking back on that experience, at first I had been
amused, but then, after moments of fumbling and what began to feel like rough
sex, I had grown alarmed. He had quickly finished “the deed” as I called it,
before he awkwardly climbed off me and immediately disappeared into the
bathroom. It had been an entirely unsatisfactory, uninspired, and rather embarrassing
event. Not surprisingly, the guy had never attempted to contact me again, and I
had kicked myself upside one side and down the other for being so foolish as to
even think he could meet my criteria. No, my previous "suitor" had
failed miserably.

How well did I really know Luke? To be honest, I
didn't know him at all. He might be good looking, but that was no guarantee
that he knew what he was doing in the bedroom. He could be impotent for all I
knew! So, as I re-examined my list, I shook my head, thinking that Luke,
handsome though he was, would never be able to live up to my standards. I
completed writing down my thoughts, and then, deciding I was wasting my time
even thinking about such possibilities, I put my diary away and reached for one
of my romance novels. What I found between the pages was my reality. Until
someone came along that could meet every one of my requirements, I would be
relegated to a living my fantasies out through the pages of my paperback
novels. For now, I was content to do so.

Chapter
6

It was late Saturday afternoon, and I was getting
ready for my date with Luke. I didn't really know what we would be doing, but
he had passed me another note in chemistry class yesterday morning and simply
instructed me to dress casual and be ready for some fun. We had agreed on a
pick-up time, which I realized as I glanced at the clock, was fast approaching.
I had changed my clothes more times that I could count, still not sure what he
meant by casual. Casual could mean a lot of things, from torn, ripped up jeans
to a nice pair of chinos.

Becky and Desiree were off somewhere shopping, and
then each of them had dates tonight, as well. Earlier this afternoon, Selena
had actually informed all of us with a self-satisfied grin that one of her
professors had asked her out. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but I didn't
think it was a good idea. Selena was smart, majoring in criminal justice, and
had a good head on her shoulders. Still, I wasn't sure about the twenty-year
difference between herself and a college professor. Was he married? She didn’t
know, but had not seen a wedding band on his finger. Still, that didn’t mean
anything. He could have taken it off. Dating between students and teachers was
discouraged, though even the Dean knew that such relationships between
consenting adults were difficult to monitor. Nevertheless, I felt uneasy about
it. What if things didn’t work out? Would Selena be risking a grade in a class
that would have a serious impact not only on her GPA but her course of studies?

The others had giggled with excitement, more
interested in what might happen between the two rather than the ramifications.
Then again, Selena wasn't one to jump into relationships, at least not most of
the time, without looking first. Who was I to judge? I was going out tonight
with a guy whose last name I still didn't know. I suppose that I could ask
questions tonight, get to know Luke a little bit, and he could get to know me.
I wasn't particularly concerned about where we were going because Boston had so
many options. Perhaps we would go out dancing or to a bar and grill, but this
time, I would refrain from drinking – much. That last hangover had been a doozy
and I wasn't in any hurry to do a repeat. Plus, I wanted to keep my head about
me on this first date.

I wasn’t overly paranoid, but I was also aware that
dating in college could be tricky. Some guys thought nothing of putting stuff
into drinks, coercing their dates to have sex with them, and I had even known
one girl last year who had been raped on her first blind date. There was nothing
wrong with being cautious. I should have told Luke that I wanted our first date
to be in a public place.

I wasn't going to rush into anything, but was just
testing the waters. If I stuck my toe in and nothing bit it off, perhaps I
could have a little bit of fun with Luke. Then again, he might turn out to be
nothing but a big jerk. Time would tell.

I finally decided on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
After all, he had said casual. I wore my hair back into a simple ponytail, no
makeup, and completed my ensemble with tennis shoes. I didn't think, with him
driving, I would need anything, but I slid my student ID and a $20 bill into my
tennis shoe just in case I decided halfway through the date that Luke just
wasn't working for me called a cab to bring me home.

I glanced at the clock, realizing that Luke was
scheduled to pick me up in ten minutes. Just as I decided that I would go
downstairs and wait, a knock on my door caught my attention. "Come
in!" Selena opened the door and stood in the doorway, giving me the once
over.

"You wearing that on your first date?" she
asked, her face scrunched with dismay.

"He said to dress casual," I shrugged.
Selena, on the other hand, looks fantastic in a one-piece summer dress that clung
to her body. A pair of flats and a few accessorized pieces of jewelry gave her
a fresh, sophisticated look. "You, on the other hand, look great," I
smiled.

She glanced down at herself and smiled. "I do,
don't I?"

We both laughed and then she gestured over her
shoulder.

"I'm going to leave and should be back by
midnight. You?"

"I have no idea what Luke has planned. I have
some money just in case I need to take a cab home, though. Where are you
going?"

Selena smiled. “You're always expecting the worst when
it comes to guys, aren't you?" She shook her head. "Well, no one can
say that you're never prepared for Plan B. To answer your question, we're going
to an Italian restaurant and then we’re going to stroll along the
waterway."

I was just about to respond when I heard a loud noise
outside in the street and then grew louder. I realized it was a motorcycle. I
frowned, glanced at the clock, and then looked at Selena, my eyes wide. "I
certainly hope that's not Luke!"

Selena quickly stepped into the room and made her way
to the dormer window overlooking the street. "Black bike, black leather
pants, black leather jacket, pulling off a black helmet, with the most luscious
black hair I've ever seen?"

"Oh God, it is him," I exclaimed. "A
motorcycle? I’ve never been on a motorcycle! I don't want to go racing around
town on a motorcycle-"

Selena waved her hand. "Where's your sense of
adventure, Jessica? I've been on a motorcycle plenty of times, it's perfectly
safe! He’s wearing a helmet, and it looks like there's an extra one attached to
the back of the bike.” She gestured out the window. “See? He's not
careless."

I stood where I was, my heart pounding with dread and
my mouth dry. Definitely not making my list! A motorcycle? On a first date? Was
he crazy? A moment later, we heard the doorbell ring. I gave Selena a hopeless
glance before rolling my eyes with
asigh
. "I
just don't know," I said, leaving the room, muttering to myself as I made
my way down the stairs. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into,
Jessica?" I asked myself. I paused a moment before the door, then taking a
deep breath and releasing it, I opened the door. In an instant, my anxiety
disappeared. Luke stood there, looking dashing, handsome, wicked, rugged, and
oh so sexy. He gave me a once over, grinning at my jeans and tennis shoes with
a nod of approval. "You ready?"

I nibbled at my lip while I glanced over his shoulder
toward the bike parked at the curb. "We’re riding that?"

"You bet," he said. He stepped back and
gestured toward the bike. "Isn't she a beauty?"

I didn't really know what to say, but smiled nervously
as I stepped from the security of the Victorian and into what might be a
horrible experience. My stomach fluttered with butterflies while my heart continued
to pound crazily. We could be killed on that thing. What if he tipped over?
What if I got a bug in my eye? Even so, I had to admit that the bike did look
nice. It had shiny dual chrome muffler pipes on each side and a low seat, onto
the back of which I saw an extra helmet attached. As I got closer, I saw the
brand emblazoned on the gas tank. "That's a Harley?" I didn’t know
what I expected, but when I saw the name Harley, I associated it with
motorcycle gangs, high-rise handlebars, and leather saddlebags. I glanced at
him and noticed his eyes literally twinkling as he grinned at his machine.

"Two-thousand eight Harley Davidson FXD Dyna
Super Glide," he nodded. “She is a beauty, isn't she?"

"I guess," I could only agree. The fenders
and the gas tank were painted a glossy, shiny black, but the rest was all
chrome. The seat was low in the front, with a raised portion on back over the
rear fender, where he assumed I'd be riding. Two sets of foot pedals. "How
do you keep it so clean?" He glanced at me and smiled.