by Hazel Parker
“Oh. I read plays.” She says simple, as if that doesn’t imply a following question.
“I thought you watched plays.” I respond quickly. “That sounds pretty dumb, huh?”
She stops chewing and looks me in the eyes. “No, it doesn’t. And you can read them, kind of like a transcript, I guess.”
“Hm. That’s interesting. Is that what you’re in school for? To read plays.”
She releases the same soft giggle and I again think I was sounding stupid. It’s not like this is what I usually talk about. I talk about prospects, semi-illegal shit, and bikes.
“Sort of. To write them, produce them, edit them. Just playwriting in general.”
“Gotcha.”
I give up on asking anymore questions so I don’t look like a total dumbass who barely finished high school. That shit was never my thing. I finish my plate, damn near clean, and guzzle down the rest of my water. I wish I had something stronger. Like a fucking beer or something.
Isabelle looks comfortable as can be, or maybe she is just better at hiding it. I don’t think I have ever sat down to share a meal with a woman. Not a real one. I know it isn’t a date, she probably knows that too, but it feels like I want it to be one.
“How long have you been in your…club?” she has since finished her food and the waitress has come to clear our plates, asking if we wanted dessert.
“Since I was born.” I lean forward on the table again, my forearms crossed and inches from her fingers laced together.
“Is that possible?” she says with a laugh.
I nod once. “Yep. I was baptized on my Dad’s bike.” It’s not like I remember it or anything. But there are pictures. The Irish are very traditional, but I know for a fact my parents never went to a fucking church.
“That’s cool.”
“I’d like to think so.”
“Is it just you in the club?” she asks.
“No, my three brothers and I. And my dad was in it.”
“Oh… was?”
I nod once. It’s not like it’s overly hard to talk about my Dad after his passing. But it is not something I do very often. Not even with my brothers or my Mom. So I don’t know why it is more than easy to open up about him to Isabelle, a woman I just met and don’t know anything equal about.
“He died a little over a year ago. He started the club here in the states, but he’s from Ireland.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She says sincerely as her eyes widen and regard me with concern.
I shake it off, because I’m not used to people looking at me like that. Actually, women looking at me like that who aren’t my mom.
“Were you two close?” she shakes her head once as if to herself and stutters over her words. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that. It’s a little personal.” She swallows and her soft neck rolls as she does. I tear my eyes away as fast as I can, suddenly more interested in the ugly flooring design.
“We were. At least, I used to think so. Until he died and I realized most of what we talked about had to do with the club, starting from when I was fifteen or so. Before that, my mom tried to keep us out of the club as much as possible, besides learning how to ride a motorcycle before we learned how to drive. But he was a good dad, and that’s all that matters to me now.”
“That’s very insightful.” He fingers twitch as if she was about to reach out and touch me. I think she was but she stopped herself. I wish she hadn’t though. I have been itching to touch her all day.
“You say that like you’re surprised.”
“No, no I didn’t mean it that way.” She laughs once, “I meant it in a good way. And I’m sorry that you lost your father.”
“Thank you. That sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” I never took myself to be a very well aware person, but it kind of comes naturally with her.
“Sort of. It’s not as… I never really met my dad, so I guess it’s different.”
“Shit. Sorry.”
I never took her as a woman with a dead beat dad but I don’t think that kind of thing is very obvious either.
“It’s okay. It’s not like I was missing out on anything.”
I nod once. We have been sitting here for quite a while after dinner but I don’t make any attempts to move, and she doesn’t either.
“How many people are in the club, are there like any requirements?” she smiles to herself and I figure I’m not in on something. “Now I sound stupid.” She giggles once.
I smile back at her, her eyes widen at me and it makes me both smile more and want to stop. If she gets used to me smiling then I will be more inclined to do it just to see her smile back.
“You don’t. There are quite a few of us, thirty or forty maybe if they stick around. And I can’t say there are any requirements, every prospect was different. We accepted them for different reasons.”
Isabelle gives a crooked smile and nods once. “It kind of sounds like a frat or something. Next thing you’ll say is that it’s like a brotherhood.” She giggles.
“Well it is.”
“Oh fuck.” Her hand flies to her mouth and she shakes with her laughter. It makes me smile too, a real one.
“Minus my real brothers, I feel close with all the guys. We’d probably do anything for each other. And that includes going to jail for each other too.”
“So you do participate in some illegal shit.” She says slowly like she knew it all along.
I scratch at the back of my neck, my skin suddenly heating like I gave something away.
“That’s neither here nor there.” I chuckle under my breath.
“Hey I’m not one to judge. As long as you’re not the one going to jail or anything.” Her eyes go wide again like she spoke too soon and it’s hard not to laugh at her.
“Why, will you miss me?” I lean closer to her. Close enough to inhale her soft lilac scent again, perfect for her.
It’s one I know I’ll never forget.
“I didn’t say that.” She easily averts that. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” her eyes light up in the cutest way.
“Oh, is that why you’ve agreed to have dinner with me? For the thrill of it.”
“What? No I would never do that.” She says quickly, I reach out and grab her wrist to stop her rambling.
“I was joking.”
She calms down and I realize my skin is on hers, and it’s why I feel like I have been set on fire.
“I haven’t done much, honestly. There are guys in the club that do some shit on the side but we don’t take ownership for it. Some of us are criminals, I can’t lie to you. But I haven’t done anything official.”
“Official?”
I smirk softly. “I guess I’m saying I haven’t been arrested.” I chuckle once. She laughs back in response.
“You’re kind of a funny guy when you aren’t so uptight.”
“I’m not uptight, trust me. My brother Simon, that’s who is uptight.” I scoff under my breath.
“What are your brothers like?”
“Mostly the same as me, I guess. Except Zeke, he’s just a grown-up kid. I don’t know, I’ve never had to talk about them to other people before.” I realize aloud.
“Well, I’m an only child so I don’t know anything about that.”
“I’m really glad I’m not an only child. Sorry.” I grin.
“That’s okay. I get it. I’ve never known anything else.” she shrugs.
The sun has since gone down, but some of the light comes in and hits her brown hair in a way that makes it more than brown. Maybe a bunch of different colors that I don’t know enough about to describe. It makes her skin look more tanned than I thought, too. And not the artificial kind – it’s more like she just looks that way naturally.
“If you weren’t in the club what do you think you would be doing?” she asks me kind of out of nowhere, but I already kind of know the answer.
“I have no fucking clue. It’s all I have done, so I don�
�t think I want to do anything else.”
“That’s nice. It took me two majors and two colleges to figure mine out.”
“Shit. My life has always been simple, I’ll give myself that. Until now, at least.” I murmur the last part as I didn’t mean to say it out loud. But it’s too late because she already heard me.
“Why?” she asks, as if she doesn’t really want to know the answer.
It’s only then that I realized I never let her arm go, and so I do. It leaves me empty and I hate the feeling, because I don’t know what to do with it.
“Because of you.” I take a deep breath. “In the past twenty four hours I have kicked you out of my club, about lost my mind when I saw you so close to what could have been a dangerous fight, and then ran into you at a fucking grocery store and had dinner with you. For the first time in I think ever, sitting down to have dinner with a woman. And I don’t even know you. I just… know that I want to.” I let out the biggest exhale I’ve had beyond my memory and she just stares back at me blankly.
I know I’ll regret it but it’s the only thing I can do right now to keep my arrogance intact. I’m not ignorant, I know that I have it, and I know that I’m no good without it.
So when she hasn’t said anything in a few seconds I take it upon myself to remove myself from the situation. Yet another one that she’s put me in, that I feel like I have no control over.
“It’s getting late,” I stand up, “we should get out of here.”
8
ISABELLE
I replay his words in my head and wish I knew what to say. It’s not like with my ex, we fell into a relationship because it made sense. But he never once said he was crazy about me, that he felt like he had to know me.
I feel like shit for not replying, even more so when Jaxson quickly stands and basically says he wants to leave. He slams the money on the counter and I follow him out.
The walk out to his bike is silent. He helps me put the helmet on again but doesn’t say anything, and avoids looking me in the eye. Jaxson keeps surprising me.
He acts like a tough guy, with his arrogance and dominance. But he isn’t. He has feelings that I have obviously hurt. I get on the bike and latch myself around him like last time. My fleshy thighs around his rock hard ones, my soft middle against his back, and my arms wrapped around his waist. He kicks off and peels out and down the road fast, the wind whips so hard it almost hurts but he seems perfectly comfortable.
I grip him tighter around his waist, and I feel his breath catch. I feel him clench more than before. So I keep doing it. I splay my hands open to feel his warmth and the hardness of his muscles. I wish I could communicate with him this way, I want to know you too, Jaxson.
But I don’t think it will work.
We arrive faster than I wanted. I take one last inhale of his natural, intense scent, before I swing off the bike. He parked right next to my car, and it is nothing short of awkward when he walks me to my car, to be nice I think, and I avoid getting in as long as possible.
“Look Jaxson,” I turn and face him quickly before I can change my mind, “I’m sorry I—I’m not really good at normal kinds of stuff, like…this. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging, is all I’m trying to say.” I look up into his even, dark eyes. I can’t even tell if they are really brown or a mix of something else.
His eyes scrunch up at the sides as he stares me down.
Now I think he isn’t going to say anything to me too, and I know how he felt in the restaurant. Except there were witnesses there. Besides the slide of the grocery store door, there is no one else out her.
The wind blows and it carries his scent my way again, and somehow pulls me closer to him too. Every time I breathe, my chest hits his and sends sparks flying through the rest of my body. His eyes leave mine, going down my face and body before meeting mine again.
This time it nearly splits me apart.
“I’m not all that good with it either.” He finally responds, his voice is so gruff and deep, strained—it goes right to a part of my body that hasn’t been touched in over a year.
“Well, then I guess—” I’m not sure when I stop talking or think I finished what I wanted to say before I realize that he has cupped my face in his rough hands and smashed his lips to mine.
Literally smashed, my teeth collide with his before he pulls back and suckles his lips around mine. His tongue is absent and yet I still feel all the passion from him, can still taste him. I swing my arms around his neck, holding him tight to me as his body flushes to mine. My back hits my car door and he presses even further. One of his massive, rock hard thighs splits mine and I feel his cock against my hip, hard beyond imagination and it doesn’t even feel like it is fully hard. The thought sends a shiver down my spine right as he deepens the kiss and the combination together makes me spin inside.
His tongue collides with mine, swiping mine aside and easily gaining the upper hand. And I let him. Because it would be no fun to fight against his dominance. He lets up for only a second and I take the deepest inhale of my life, before he continues the kiss. It really is the kiss of my life.
My hands move down his shoulders, tracing every inch of his hardened muscles, even better this way as I feel every plane of them. They tighten as he grips me more, his hands move from my face down by back, stopping at the cusp of my ass and holding me there. The heat of his hands is so close to where I really want him to be, so so close. I lose myself in his kiss, in the way he touches me.
The way he possesses me so easily.
“Fuck, Isabelle. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jaxson pulls of off the kiss, muttering under his breath and laying his forehead on mine. It’s hot but not slick with moisture, as I’m sure mine is. My whole body is running out of chill by now.
“I—what…” I trail off, desperately trying to catch my breath. I swallow hard and lick my lips, the last of his moisture and taste on them.
Jaxson pulls back and it feel like a loss. Of his touch, of his heat. But I get an uninterrupted view of his eyes boring into mine, that it feels okay. His hair is all tousled and even more sexy, the skin around his lips colored from the effort. If this is what he looks like after just a kiss, I’m just about dying to see what he would look like after sex. Wow, I’m thinking very much ahead.
“You have a number?” he asks, that gruffness is his voice is even more prominent.
“Um…yeah.”
He takes his phone outside of an inner pocket in his jacket, and I put my contact in. I even add my last name in it, Isabelle James.
“I’ll call you. Get home safe.” He turns on his heavy heels and walks off, just like that, with nothing else to say.
I am a little shocked but it is Jaxson, and I didn’t expect much else from him.
I have to force myself to drive home without wrecking. I keep replaying the kiss. I keep feeling his hands on me again.
They are permanently there, his heat, his grip. He is by far the hottest man I have ever seen and ever kissed. And I don’t even know how it happened. How I got her here.
I’m really not complaining about it though. Jaxson is… special. Different, and mysterious for sure.
Once I get home, I park and trudge up to our unit. Riley is on the couch watching trash television, which is a regular occurrence for her Sunday evening. I was prepared to relax the day before class but that went out the window when I spent hours talking to Jaxson over dinner.
“Oh my god, where have you been? It’s after nine.” Riley says with concern but doesn’t look away from her show on television.
“Um… out.” I lie.
I grab a bottle of water and guzzle it down in the kitchen before I meet her in the living room. I have my bag of school supplies that I take out to write my name on. Which is just my two notebooks. I see the pink one and immediately smile, a cheesy one that stretches my cheeks.
“Oh no, what is that smile? I have literally never seen that before.”
I take a deep breath because I know I will be e
xplaining this to her all night.
“I kissed Jaxson.”
IT DID TAKE ALL NIGHT.
I’m in bed by midnight and I still have to toss and turn. I look at my phone over and over and tell myself that I’m not waiting for him to call. People just say that as a response, I don’t think that they actually mean they will call.
I think about the class I have to teach tomorrow and my first workshop and it’s not even enough to distract me.
All Riley had to say was a warning about getting involved with someone in the club. I must just be naive but I don’t think Jaxson is like that. He doesn’t come off as a hardened criminal to me. He is oddly funny and sweet in his own way, arrogant as all hell but a good guy, deep down.
I know he has a dangerous edge. I felt it with him and on his bike, and it wasn’t the bike that did it. He has a look in his eyes. That he has seen some things, that he has done some things. I just don’t know what.
All I know is that once I find out, it won’t matter much to me. That kiss has sealed him onto my soul, attached me to his dangerous game.
I am on the sweet precipice of sleep when my ringing phone blares through the room. I’m pissed as all hell, seeing it is an unknown number that’s taking away my beauty sleep.
Until I think of who it might be.
“Hello?” I make my voice sound all nice, even though I should sound like a chain smoker or something.
“Hey.”
I know the voice. He doesn’t even have to introduce himself. I sit up for no reason and calm my breath. My heart rate immediately spikes, just at the sound of his voice and the sound of his breathing.
“I said I would call.” He adds.
“So you can check this off your to do list then.” I smile.
“Were you sleeping?” his voice pikes and I feel like he was smiling too. It is eerily silent on his end and I figure he is alone. I imagine him in bed, probably shirtless or even naked. I shouldn’t have.
“No. Just… in bed.” That came off more suggestive than I thought.
