by Gabriel Love
And who the fuck knows? Maybe I’ll do some good deed. Make up for some of those past sins. Or whatever. That shit’s overrated. I’m a fucking degenerate. No amount of charity donations or damsels saved will ever make up for the atrocities I’ve visited on people.
But maybe I can fucking not be a total shit bag for once in my life. Maybe I can improve her life and help her out of whatever bind she’s in.
Even if all I do is fucking sell her a bike.
Chapter Seven
Caitlin
I’m exhausted. My eyes feel dry and scratchy and they’re kind of draining at the corners. But the need to keep going drives me like all the demons I’ve built up over a lifetime are hot on my tail.
I’m aware of Axl as he slows and noses up on my right side. I move over and he pulls out in front of me in a motion I totally understand. He’s taking the lead. And I’m fine with that. Glancing at him, I lift a little, trying to ease up some of the pressure between my legs. My whole pelvic region is sore from all the sitting straddling the seat.
He jerks his head toward the sign for the next exit and I give a tiny nod. We’re taking the next exit. Got it. And when we get where we’re going, I’m taking some ibuprofen. It’s been hours since we’d gotten out on the open road. My stomach rumbles in protest as I realize it’s been a long dang time since we ate.
In unison, we take the exit.
I watch his motions, watch his body language and the way he leans into the curves, marveling in this unspoken language I never knew existed before. Being on the road with another bike has taught me a lot about my companion. Like the fact that he does not like being second. He craves the lead, but he’s let me have it. He’s got self-control and tells. Tiny ones, but tells none the less.
We make another turn and I hope he knows where we are. I’ve never been outside my town before, so a whole new city is scary. And exhilarating. But we’re not quite far enough away that I feel like I can breathe easy.
After a few minutes, we pull off into the parking lot of a Japanese botanical garden. Cherry trees shed white petals like snowflakes and their sweet scent fills the air. We park side by side in a single spot and he takes off his helmet. I follow suit, giving him a curious look. He drops his kickstand, his eyes on the gates as I put my helmet away.
Together, we get off our bikes and head up to the gates. I stare up at him as he opens them and steps inside, motioning me to follow. And I get it. He’s trying to get me to relax. That’s what this place is for. And I melt a little.
Inside, water flows around little man made islands and giant Koi fish swim just below the surface. Their scales reflect the sunshine and I glance up at my companion.
“Thank you,” I whisper, emotion closing my throat. He’s only ever done kind things for me. And I’d judged him that first day. I’d thought he was rude and coarse and likely a jerk. He just has that air. That awful aura of someone you know will hurt you, you just don’t know when. But he’s never done a single awful thing to me.
Staring at a temple that’s surrounded by water and trees weeping cherry blossom petals, I speak in a quiet, ashamed voice. “I thought you were a bad man,” I whisper, my cheeks stinging red. “Like a gang member or something.”
He plants his elbows on the railing and leans into it as the scent of water tickles my nose. “You’re correct,” he says in a gravelly voice and I jerk my head up and stare at him. He’s watching the Koi fish swim.
I try to wrap my head around his words. Which was he agreeing with? That he’s a bad man? Or a gang member? Or both? When I speak, the words are as hesitant as I feel. “But you’ve only ever been kind to me,” I whisper.
He says nothing.
“People are never kind without ulterior motives,” I say finally, feeling an ache in my throat. Why am I doing this? Nothing good can come from this conversation. Why am I hell bent on alienating the one person who’s been good to me?
He nods. “Yep.”
“So what’s yours?” I ask.
He draws in a deep breath and expels it slowly through his nose. He gives me a quick glance, then focuses on the fish again. I hold my breath, wondering if he’s finally going to open up just a tiny bit.
“Not being an asshole for once in my life.” His words are short, clipped, and cruel.
I freeze up and icy pinpricks race over my flesh. “I don’t understand,” I say softly. I want him to give me more. Help me understand what he’s saying. I want to understand him. Not because I don’t trust him – I do – but because I genuinely wonder how someone like this wound up here with me right now. It’s too many odds. There’s just too much stacked against this particular scenario.
“You’re right,” he says finally, his knuckles going white as he grips the railing. “I’m not a good guy. I’m not a fucking knight in shining armor.” His jaw ripples like he’s grinding his teeth. Like he’s trying to stop the words. I don’t want him to regret talking to me.
“You don’t owe me answers,” I whisper. He doesn’t. All he’s done for me are good things. His past is his business and while I’m incredibly curious, I also respect his need for privacy. I get the need for privacy all too well.
He glances over at me, his eyes locked on my face. “I know,” he says.
I can’t help the small smile creeping across my lips. “Besides, shining armor means you’ve never seen battle.”
Something ignites in his eyes.
“And I don’t think a knight who’s never seen battle is a hero at all,” I say softly, reaching out to flip the collar of his black tee shirt where it had folded under. His skin is warm under my fingers and I feel my pulse jump and begin galloping in my chest as our eyes meet. And I realize I’m touching him.
Jerking my hand back, I tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear and stare at the water. “So, um, how much farther are we going tonight?”
“How far do you want to go tonight?”
I glance back up at him, shocked at the heat that roars through me at the suggestive words. Is that what I’d asked? Wracking my brain, I feel like everything up there is short circuiting as I struggle for an answer.
How far do I want to go tonight?
He’s studying me closely and I see his pupils dilate a little bit. As if our bodies are talking on a level we can’t control, I feel something in me respond. My nipples tighten and I suck in a shocked little breath.
How far do I want to go tonight?
Chapter Eight
Axl
Her lips part and her eyes shine with arousal. And my cock is throbbing so hard I can’t think straight. The wind picks up and a swirl of petals snow down around us and touch the surface of the water. But all I can see is her.
“Um,” she whispers, her eyes skipping away from me. I see her scan the exit as if she’s still sure we’re being followed and something ugly worms through my guts.
“How far are you going to run?” I ask.
Every muscle in her body snaps taut and I swear she’s holding her breath. But I’m not going to let her close up and shut down. Stepping closer to her, I feel the heat of her body as I grab her shoulders. “How far do you have to go to feel safe?” I demand, pushing her with words and not my hands. Lowering my voice to a harsh growl, I ask, “Will you ever be able to stop running?”
Her breathing speeds up and I realize I can see her nipples straining against the fabric of her shirt and bra.
And something in me snaps.
With a growl, I press my lips to hers. She inhales a shocked breath through her nose as her soft lips yield to mine. Her whole body is stiff and I know I need to back the fuck off, but instead, I push. My tongue finds the seam of her lips and I press against it. She parts, but nothing else in her gives.
And I take the fucking hint. Backing off, I take a moment to get a hold of myself. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” I growl, then fix her with a glare. “But I’m not fucking sorry I kissed you.”
Her fingers find her lips and she looks stunned.
I expect her to yell at me. To tell me off or slap me. I’ve got it coming.
Instead, she surprises me. “How about this,” she whispers before finding her voice. “I answer a question, you answer one. Sound fair?”
It does sound fair. But I don’t fucking like it. I don’t want to tell her I’m a fucking ex biker. That I’m a criminal. That I’ve got no business being in her fucking life. And she’s got no reason to trust me. No, it’s worse than that. She’s got plenty of reasons not to trust me. She would head for the hills if she knew the truth. And considering what I’m thinking about doing to her… she should be running from me.
She stares up at me and I notice a little curve at the corners of her lips that fucks with my head. Her eyes are warm and I wonder why I don’t see hate there. Anger. Or at the very least, resentment. I’d just kissed her roughly without permission. I know she’s been through hell. And here I am…
“Deal?” she asks quietly, interrupting my train of thought. More like derailing every thought in my brain.
She’s going to regret this deal. I nod. I’m not going to pull any punches. She wants answers? I’ll give her answers. Brutally honest ones, too.
“Are you going to start or am I?” she asks.
“Go ahead,” I say, gearing up.
“Are you…” She swallows hard, refusing to even look up at me. “Interested in me?” Her cheeks go red and I study her. “I mean sexually?” she adds, the last word a mortified whisper.
“Yes.” The word is sharp and goose bumps race up her arms. “Are you sexually interested in me?” I ask, fully expecting her to back out and refuse to answer. I prep a backup question in case, but she manages to surprise me yet again.
“Yes,” she says, then sighs. Her shoulders lift an inch, as if a weight has been taken off them and I wonder what I missed. That was not the reaction I expected.
“Is that why you’re helping me?” she asks seriously, not a hint of bitterness in her voice.
“No,” I say honestly. “Do you really think that’s why I’m helping you?” I deserve that one. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting. Not that I know why I give two shits what this girl thinks about me. But I know I don’t want her to think I’m only in it if I get to fuck her. Or because I want to.
She shakes her head and I breathe a sigh of relief. “Why did you say you’re not a good guy?” She asks, her eyes darting back and forth between mine. “All I’ve seen is good,” she whispers, her hand reaching up to pull a single petal from my hair. She drops it and watches it flutter away.
“I’m an ex biker,” I say, knowing it’s time to do one more good thing. I’m going to shut her down, push her away and make sure she can get a clean break for her new start. She doesn’t need me to be lingering in her mind when she is in a new place forging new connections. But the thought of her finding a new man twists something in my gut and I growl. “I’m a fucking criminal.”
She doesn’t seem convinced. So I keep going. “I’ve destroyed people. Good, innocent people like you.” I pin her to the railing, holding her captive with my body as she stares up at me. I need her to know I’m all wrong for her. She’s been through hell. But I’d make that look like a treat compared to what I’ve done.
She’s studying me carefully and whispers, “You don’t scare me.”
I growl. “I should scare you very, very much.” Her body is soft against mine and I resist the urge to grind into her. I resist the urge to spin her around, lift her up and bury myself deep inside her. I resist the urge to fuck her and relieve the ache in my balls. Her sweet scent fills every breath and I bend down to bury my face in her neck. Inhaling her, I feel her ragged breaths and speeding heart rate.
“How did you know?” she whispers.
I pull back. She’s not talking about anything we’ve already discussed. I know exactly what she’s saying without coming out and saying it. She’s probing to see if I really know about her past and what she’s running from.
“I think it’s my question,” I say instead.
Chapter Nine
Caitlin
I should be terrified of him. Absolutely terrified and running as far and as fast as I can. But for some insane reason, I’m not. Nothing he said even turned me off. Because he’s not a biker now. He’s not hurting people now. Maybe I’m naïve to think people can change, but I’m living proof that people can change.
He’s not a biker now. At some point, he decided he needed a change. Or wanted a change. And he took steps to make that happen. That’s not the action of someone who’s a bad person. Maybe he did bad things, evil things, but my experience of him has been neither of those things.
I lock the hotel room door and turn to him. There’s a curious new heat tingling between my legs and flowing freely through my veins. I want to explore it. Talk about it. Maybe even act on it.
But he’s closed down. After reminding me it was his turn to ask a question, he told me we should head in and find a place to stop for the night. His tone had been cold and I knew there was no point arguing with him or even trying to change his mind. Not that I wanted to; I was ready to call it a night.
He’s been quiet since.
Walking away from the door, I realize I’m a lot less worried about what – or who – might come through it and I’m more curious about him. But more than that, I’m curious what this effect he has on my body is all about. It’s brand new and strange. Sex has never been exciting for me. It’s never been fun or pleasurable. More like something to grit my teeth and get through.
Somehow I feel like it would be nothing like that with Axl.
Well, I’ll never know if I don’t make a move. “I might take another bath. Want to join me?” I ask wishing I could give my voice a more sensual sound. I know some women do it, they give this purr and guys just can’t help themselves. I’m not one of those girls. I’m so damn nervous I’m just glad I didn’t trip over the words and say something stupid.
“I could watch the door for you again,” he agrees and my heart sinks a little in my chest.
Well, that didn’t go as planned.
Maybe if he sees me naked he’ll realize that’s not what I mean. Maybe I can seduce him. Not that I have much experience doing that, either. But stripping is a profession for a reason, right? Guys like to see naked woman and it gets them hot. So maybe that’s what I need to do. Otherwise, I’m out of ideas.
In the bathroom, I don’t even wait for him to turn around before pulling my shirt off. He seems to freeze for a second before his eyes lock on my face. He’s quick to spin around and face the doorway like he’s watching for intruders like he had last night. And while his dedication to easing my stupid fears gives me a warm fuzzy feeling, that’s not exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for.
“I was thinking about what you said about how far I want to go tonight,” I say softly, heat rushing to my cheeks at the brazen words. I slip my pants off, hoping he’ll turn around and speak to me face to face. He doesn’t.
“We made good progress today,” he says, leaning on the doorframe like he’s totally relaxed. And I envy him. How is he so calm while I’m feeling like I swallowed a whole bee hive? “Don’t worry about it,” he concludes.
Swing and a miss.
Pulling off my bra, I decide to try again. “Did you mean it?” I ask, folding my bra and putting it on the counter with the rest of my clothes while I stare at his back, willing him to turn around without words.
“Mean what?” he asks in an even tone.
He’s good at resisting my silent urging. And I wish I could be half as cool and unflappable as he is. I’m nervous and my palms are sweaty. I’ve never done this. Flirting is not my strong suit, obviously, and I feel like an idiot. I am an idiot. There’s got to be a better way, I just wish I knew what it was and had the courage to go through with it.
“When you told me you’re sexually interested in me?” I say, hoping he’ll remember that and decide to put me out of my misery and make a
move so I can stop failing all over the place.
“I did mean it.” he says.
I want to howl my frustration. Instead, I rock my hips and tug my panties down. Folding them and placing them on the neat stack of clothing, I walk to the shower, feeling so very gloriously naked and sexy because he’s right here. If he wanted to look, he’d see everything. The thought alone is enough to make my heart pummel my chest.
He could see everything if he’d just look. Why isn’t he looking?
I turn on the water, fuming inside. Why can’t I just ask him if we are going to do something about this mutual attraction? How hard is it to admit I’m more than interested? That I want to do things that maybe I shouldn’t?
The thoughts whirl sickeningly and I turn on the shower and step into the back of the tub carefully. And I decide to stop being afraid. I’ve gotten away from the things I should be afraid of. I’ve changed my life and I’m taking charge. Why not own up and take charge of this too?
“What I’m trying to say,” I tell him as I step under the slick needles of hot water, “is that I want to do something about it.” There. There is no mistaking that. No way he can blow me off. He’ll have to face what I said and choose to do something about it. Or at the very least, say something.
“I know,” he says simply.
Chapter Ten
Axl
Five Weeks Ago
“I like this one,” she whispers, running her fingers along the seat of one I’d just finished restoring last week.
“I bet you do,” I say. I’m mentally talking my dick down as the stroking motion of her fingers wakes up a sleeping demon in me. “It’s a Ducati.”
The wrinkle of confusion between her eyebrows as she looks at me is adorable. “That’s the type, right? Like a Nissan car or a Saturn.”
