by KT Fisher
Bomber laughs, offering me the box. “Your wish has been granted.”
I quickly snatch the box and sit down on the floor. A fluffy rug is below me, I was thinking of using it for the boutique, but after my dad told me it was most likely going to get in the way and become a health and safety hazard, I agreed to get rid of it. Thankfully, I haven’t done that already and I get to sit on a soft rug as I open the pizza box and look at the beautiful food.
“Are you going to sit there and weirdly stare at it, or eat it?” Bomber looks down at me, still holding the remaining two boxes. His eyebrows have raised so much because of how wide his eyes are as he watches me.
“I’m hungry.” I explain, looking between him and the pizza.
Bomber just nods, joining me on the rug and lays the other two boxes and some cans of Coke on the floor beside us. After I eat two slices, I slide the box over to Bomber so he knows that he’s allowed to eat with me and that I won’t bite his fingers off if he dares to reach and take a slice. He smiles as I feel a little awkward.
“Don’t worry.” Bomber laughs. “I remember how you are when you’re hungry.”
“Oh gosh.” I hide behind my hands as my face burns from the embarrassment. Memories of a thirteen year of me wolfing down my dinner at the kitchen table, only for Scrappy and Bomber to walk in and join us. I had been out all day with mum shopping and she hadn’t let me eat anything as she doesn’t like her family eating ‘that junk.’ So by the time we got home I had an empty stomach but she wouldn’t let me snack, only to wait until she had made me a decent meal and that’s when Bomber had walked in. My mouth would have been full, with my cheeks puffed out from food and I just stared at him. I was mortified I didn’t want him to see me at all, but Bomber didn’t quit and eventually caught up with me and informed me that my brother had kindly told him how I get freaky around food when I’m hungry.
“Yeah, good memories.” Bomber smirks, so I slap his arm and frown. “Don’t be like that.” He snickers as I pout, turning away from him as I cross my arms over my chest.
“I thought we were on a date.” I sulk. “I didn’t think I would be insulted.”
“Oh come on.” Bomber continues to laugh. “Here.”
I turn to see he’s holding out one of the smaller boxes and as he opens it, I see potato wedges. I know he’s trying to get me to forgive him with food, and I have to say its working.
“I got you some dip too.” He digs his hand into his pocket and lays the different flavours on the floor, and as soon as I see the sweet chilli dip, I crave. I turn back around and enjoy the food some more, ignoring Bomber’s smug look. I’m pathetic, I know.
After we have emptied the boxes, I look to Bomber and begin to laugh. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He shakes his head. “I knew you would have been hungry and I’ve told you before,” he reaches forward and takes the last chicken strip, handing it to me. “I don’t want you to change.”
I take the food as the peace offering it is and eat it happily. “Thank you.”
He packs away the boxes and we sit, letting the food settle in our swollen bellies.
“My Dad and Scrappy know you’re here, I think.” I admit.
Bomber nods. “Yeah I know, it was your dad who text me to tell me how hungry you would be.”
I’m shocked. “Huh.”
“Come on.” Bomber stands, holding his hand out to me.
“What?” I ask, as he pulls me up to stand and he does it so fast that I place my hands out in front of me, only for them to land on his hard chest.
Bomber looks down at me, tucking my hair behind my ears and smiles. “Lock up.”
I frown. “Ok.”
“Don’t look so worried, I want to go on a ride.”
My eyes widen. “On your bike?”
He laughs. “Of course.”
We both know what that means, for a girl to ride on the back of a bikers bike is a big deal. Especially in our case, and to anyone who knows Bomber and I, it’s a huge statement. Silently nodding, we quickly get rid of the pizza boxes and I make sure the shop is fully secure. My hands slightly shake as I lock up, wondering how it’s going to feel on the back of Bomber’s bike. When I turn around, I see him straddle his bike and I swallow hard at the sight of him. Bomber looks up from his phone and I quickly make a move. I don’t want to make a habit of staring at him like some sort of loser.
“Come on.” He indicates to the spot behind him, a sexy smirk in place. I have a feeling he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
Clutching my bag close, I walk towards him. “Where are we going?”
“Just a ride.” He answers, quickly getting off the bike to put my bag in the locked compartment under his seat. As he gets back on, I can’t help but watch how his legs wrap around the machine, wondering what he would be like straddling me. As soon as the image pops into my head I have to shake it out. Blurry images of what it would like to be in bed with him, naked and sweaty make me feel hot and I have to block them out. “Climb on.” He orders.
I have to admit, I’m a little nervous. I’m no stranger to being on the back of a bike, I’ve been on Scrappy’s and my dad’s more times than I can count, but this is different. Completely new to me and I’m apprehensive to what will happen once word gets out, because it will. There’s a lot of Kings members, and a whole lot more people who know the members of the club and report back to them. Paid eyes, the club calls them.
Nodding to myself, I place a hand on Bomber’s shoulder for balance as I lift my leg up and settle myself behind him. I fiddle with my hands, not knowing where to put them. When I ride with my dad or brother, I hold onto them of course because there’s no awkwardness. With Bomber though, there is and not in a bad way, it’s a sexual tension and I’m not shy enough to admit that. It builds more and more every time we see each other. He kicks the bike into life, the vibration making me feel slightly light headed and I bite down on my bottom lip. I love bikes, they’re a big part of my life. The sounds of the rumble and revs, the smells of the petrol and leather are my favourite and I wouldn’t want to live without them.
“Lissy, hold onto me.” Bomber laughs and I sheepishly smile, even though he can’t see me. I place my arms on him, taking a deep breath. Christ if I’m like this with him fully clothed, I think I’ll be a total disaster if my daydreams of us being naked together come true. Suddenly, Bomber reaches around himself, and grabs onto my hand, pulling me closer to him and settling my hand firmly on his stomach. I’m well aware that my hands are very close to his crotch area and that makes my heart pump a bit faster. I’m worried that Bomber will feel it as he has pulled me so close to him, my chest is firmly against his back that my breasts are slightly squashed, but I stay put. I don’t want to move.
“Better?” He asks and I nod against him, “I can’t see you.”
“Yes.” I answer, a little too quietly for him to hear me over the bike. “Yes.” I speak louder this time.
“Hold on babe!” He shouts, revving the bike and sending a shit load of vibrations between my thighs. My arms tighten around him and I feel his chest rise and fall as he laughs. Bomber pats my thigh before he speeds off, the wind cuddling us as we cut through. There’s a freeing feeling that only a bike can give you, and I close my eyes and let the sensations take me. I breathe in the smell of Bomber’s leather jacket, mixed with his individual manly smell. I squeeze my arms slightly, adjusting myself and I begin to realise my legs are open wide and pressed against him. My heart begins to speed up again and my cheeks burn from heat that spreads all over me. During the rest of the short ride, I can’t remove my thoughts from the erotic pictures of Bomber and I.
“Here we are.” The bike becomes slower and we pull up, I open my eyes to see where we are and the emotion that I’ve tried to hold back for so long tries to slip through.
I stay on the bike after Bomber removes himself, my eyes are fixed on the tree beside us. Bomber lifts me gently and settles me on the ground, looking
into my eyes but I don’t look at him.
“What’s happening?” He asks me.
Taking a deep breath, I look to him. “Nothing, I just haven’t been here since you left.”
His eyes brows shoot up. “Really?”
I shrug. “Well, not counting the weeks I sat here crying, of course.”
Bomber’s happiness fades, and he frowns as he nods. Deep lines forming on his forehead. “I’m sorry.”
I touch his arm, smiling up at him when he returns his gaze. “You’re forgiven.”
“As easily as that?” He asks doubtful.
The sadness that clouds my hearts tries to resurface and I shut it down. “You’ve told me why you went and if you weren’t there, then maybe I wouldn’t have been saved.”
Bomber cradles my face, tilting my head up to look directly in his bright hazel eyes. “We would have searched this whole earth to look for you and I personally wouldn’t have given up. I would have died saving you Elise.”
Swallowing my emotion, I smile up at him as I traitorous tear escapes. Bomber wipes it away with his thumb. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t bring me here for me to be a downer.”
He smiles down, but it’s not a happy smile. It’s more like an ‘I’m going to play along’ kind of smile. “No I didn’t Debbie Downer.”
I slap at his arm and Bomber laughs, a full belly sexy laugh and we turn to look at our old hang out. Immediately he scowls, and looks back to me in horror. “What happened?”
I watch him as he storms up to the tree, pointing to where the swing should be dangling down, the one he made for me. I hold back my smile, joining him by the tree. “Maybe some kids didn’t appreciate your handwork.”
Bomber places his hands on his hips, fully looking pissed as he looks around. “I wanted to push you.”
“I’m pretty sure I would be too big.” I laugh.
He looks to me, and then walks towards his bike. Opening the seat and getting out a blanket. “But we can still sit and talk.”
A little dread fills me as he lays out the blanket, gesturing me to sit. I take my place beside him, and look around. The last time I was here I was more angry than upset. I had accepted Bomber wasn’t ever coming back and I told myself he was an arsehole.
“So.” He sighs. “Any boyfriends I should worry about now I’m back.”
I have to smile. “No, there’s no worry of that.”
Bomber looks shocked. “What? You mean to say that every man here is blind?”
“Oh, no they have tried.” I laugh, quite enjoying the slight frown appear on Bomber’s features. “But I haven’t accepted.”
“That because of me?” He asks quietly.
I decide that honesty is the best policy here. “You broke my heart.” I watch him as he soaks it in. “I was young, but I loved you and I just wasn’t interested in experiencing that again.”
“But, you said yes to me.”
I nod. “Because you’re Jamie.” I reply. It’s as simple as that. “But if you hurt me again, I can’t ever forgive you.”
He reaches out for my hand, and squeezes. “I’m sorry.”
“Look, that’s over.” I shrug.
“Yeah but, you still wear the scars.” Bomber frowns. “And it’s because of me. I won’t ever leave you again. I couldn’t if I tried.”
I straighten up, I don’t really want to be talking about this, but I guess this is why we’re here. Bomber wants to talk and try to clear up the past but the truth is, not all my scars are from when he left.
“You shut yourself off a lot of the time,” He scowls down at where our hands touch. “I did that.”
“Honestly, I still get upset when I think back to how I felt but that’s not because I don’t forgive you. It’s just when I remember how I felt, it was a really upsetting time for me but that’s not why I shut myself off.” I answer.
Bomber inclines his head. “Come here.”
I scoot closer, smiling at his cocky smirk. “What?”
“I want to kiss you.” He caresses my jaw, looking into my eyes and my heart skips a beat.
“Then why are you still talking?”
He looks shocked for just a second, and then his lips connect to mine. Bomber lets his hands tangle into my hair as we kiss, letting his tongue sneak in occasionally. I prefer this to talking. Bomber gently leans into me, and I let him lay me down. He leans over me from my left side and I tilt my body as we continue our kiss. I let my hands wander inside his jacket and feel his muscular frame over his thin shirt.
“Taking it slow is killing me.” He grumbles as our lips separate.
I laugh. “Have patience.”
We lay together, looking up to the sky.
“You want to know a secret?” I ask.
“Obviously.” He quickly answers, and leans on his elbow, looking down at me.
“I broke the swing.” I burst into laughter as his eyes widen.
“What?” He asks.
“I’m sorry.” I continue to laugh. “The last time I was here, I was so angry with you that I ripped down the swing.”
The complete shock on his face has me in stitches. “I can’t believe you did that.”
All I can do is laugh.
“Can I ask for another secret?” He asks, “If you haven’t given anyone the time of day, does that mean you haven’t?” He looks down at my body as I think about what he’s asking me. And then it hits me.
“You want to know if I’m a virgin.” A little anger evident in my voice.
Bomber holds his hands up. “I was just wondering, you don’t have to answer.”
“Yeah well, you’re not getting one.” I jump up from my place, but Bomber grabs onto my arm.
“Whoa, what just happened?” He looks panicked.
I snatch my hand from his grasp as I stand. “I’m going home.”
Bomber jumps up and frowns at me. “Elise, I’m sorry just ignore me.”
“Are you taking me home or do I have to call a taxi?” I ask, walking to his bike a getting my bag from under his seat.
“I was just being a jealous prick. Ignore me, please Lissy.” He begs.
“Just take me home please.” I ask, looking into his eyes and feeling like shit because I ruined the night. “It’s not you, honestly.”
“Then why do I get the feeling that it is my fault?” Bomber tilts his head to the side, watching me.
“Take my word for it.”
Bomber stands motionless for a few minutes, but I don’t back down.
“Put your bag back.” He sighs. “I’m taking you home.”
I nod and watch as he locks the blanket away, ignoring the guilt of ending the night sour.
“I’m sorry.” I say as we sit on the bike, luckily he hasn’t started it yet otherwise he wouldn’t have heard me.
“Don’t apologise.” He orders and then we ride home.
When I get off outside my home, I feel awful. I look to him and I’m about to apologise again but he shuts me up. “Don’t.”
“The answer is yes.” I then spin around and quickly enter my house. My heart beating a thousand times a minute.
I take myself to bed, not wanting to see my family let alone talk to them. I feel shit for ending Bomber’s planned night like that. I sit on my bed, with my phone in my hand wanting to text Bomber, but I don’t know what to say. I hated shutting him down like that, but he can’t ever know. Nobody can.
Chapter Eight
Elise
I wake the next morning to a text from Bomber and it’s safe to say, he’s sorry about last night and I feel even worse. That was my fault, I spoiled the night because just like Bomber had said, I shut myself off and turned my back. But no matter how bad I feel for him, he can’t know what I’m keeping from everyone. That’s my burden to carry. I reply to his text, letting him know that it’s all forgotten and he didn’t do anything wrong.
A knock on my door comes as soon as I send the text. “Come in.” I answer, knowing it’s either my dad or
Scrappy. If it was my mother, she would have walked right in. Not once has she ever knocked on my door, there’s no privacy at all with her but dad and Scrap do.
It’s dad, and he greets me with a warm smile and a cup of tea. “Morning darling.”
“Morning.” I say, eyes on the warm cup and I gratefully take it from him. I sigh in bliss as I take my first sip and dad laughs.
“Look, I know I said me and your brother would help you today, but Frankie needs us.” Before he can say anything more I hold my hand up to silence him. I can see he’s worried and I love him more for it. He wants to help me get the boutique up and ready, but he belongs to the club and when the president calls, you go. Doesn’t matter if he’s your brother or not.
“Dad, it’s fine.” I assure him.
“Really?” His eyes widen, slight relief showing on his bearded face.
“Yes, I have others who can help me anyway.” I point out, drinking some more of my tea. “Was this to butter me up?” I ask, pointing to the cup in my hand.
“I know you’re a sucker for tea in the morning.” He holds his hands up laughing. “But you sure you’re ok?”
“Yes.” I sigh, offering him a smile of my own. “Just make sure to make me another cup tomorrow morning.”
“Deal.” He laughs, gifting me a kiss on the head and leaving my room.
After a few minutes of thinking, I grab my phone. Bomber still hasn’t text me back, probably still asleep.
Me: I know how you can get me to forgive you.
I can’t help the smile that creeps when I send it, and I don’t get a reply until I’ve finished my cup.
Bomber: I thought I was all forgiven?
Me: Sorry, did I wake you?
Bomber: No, I was in the shower.
I pause for a second as thoughts of Bomber in the shower invade my head.
Bomber: You’re thinking of me in the shower aren’t you. Dirty girl
