I nod, afraid he’s going to lose interest once I give him that clarification, and I’m thanking my lucky stars that Scott and his friends didn’t mention anything else about me being the town bike.
“You want me to beat him up?”
I laugh. “No Elijah, I don’t want you to get arrested for beating up some moron from my past.”
“You wanna make him so fucking jealous he can’t see straight?” he asks in all seriousness. It’s absurd. I shouldn’t give a crap about what Scott and his brainless goons think of me, and yet the idea of shoving someone as hot—and yeah, okay, pretty damn scary looking—as Elijah under his nose sends a thrill through me. I find myself nodding, though the way Elijah’s smiling at me makes me realise that I’ve no idea what I just agreed to.
“Then kiss me.”
“What? How do you even know he’s looking?”
“You, in this outfit? Trust me, he’s looking.”
“What’s wrong with this outfit?” I say, but the words peter off with the way he’s looking at me. I know that look. That’s the way he looks at my pies when he comes in for lunch, like he hasn’t had a meal in days. I want to be the meal.
He leans in, so close I can feel his warm breath brush my lips. “You gotta kiss me back.”
“Huh?”
“I’m going to kiss you now and, despite the fact that you don’t like me, if you wanna make this dickhead jealous, you gotta kiss me with all you got.”
I can smell the whisky on his breath. I haven’t touched whisky since I was seventeen and got so sick I just narrowly escaped having my stomach pumped. I swore I would never touch the stuff again, and even the smell usually has me dry reaching, but suddenly I’m finding it a very welcome scent, and the fact that I’m hyperventilating has nothing to do with alcohol of any kind.
“I never said I didn’t like you. In fact, I don’t know anything about you.”
“Ana?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up,” he says, and mashes his lips to mine. His mouth is hot on mine, and at first, it’s awkward. I have no idea if I’m kissing Elijah because I want to make Scott mad with jealousy or if I’m kissing him simply because I want to. He pulls back to study my face. I try to rein in my bemused expression, but frankly, I don’t think I’m fooling anyone. I probably look like a stunned mullet. Elijah looks kind of intense. Intense and a little angry.
“That’s all you got? Seriously? Are you even trying to make him jealous? ‘Cause I gotta say, I think your method sucks.” I pull his face back to mine and take him with my mouth. I force my tongue inside while his eyes are still on me. He’s surprised, but when I clasp my hands behind his neck and push myself against him, his arm snakes around my back, his fingers tangle in my hair and he kisses me so hard and deep we’re practically consuming each other.
Elijah walks us back a step, until I’m pushed up against the wall. He’s found his way between my thighs and the pressure of his erection against my pubic bone elicits a moan from me. “You wanna get outta here?”
“Okay.”
He takes my hand and leads me past the gawking patrons, past Scott and his idiotic friends, past the smiling publican, Dave, who’s sure to give my dad a full report tomorrow, and out into the balmy summer air.
He holds out a hand for the keys, that I confiscated earlier in the night. “I’m driving.”
“Where are we going?”
“For a ride.” He watches as I fumble with the buckle on my chinstrap, hooks his finger in it and pulls me closer, kissing me as greedily as he did inside.
“I don’t think they’re watching out here,” I say when we come up for air.
“That wasn’t for their benefit. It was for mine.”
I bite down on my lip to keep the smile from busting out and making me feel like a complete mental case. Elijah runs his thumb over my lip, snagging it out from under my teeth and slipping his calloused thumb inside my mouth. My tongue darts out on its own, grazes the rough edges, tasting whiskey and leather. He releases a groan and smiles down at me, but it’s predatory and not all sweet enough for his dimples to pop out.
He takes a few steps back toward his bike and then straddles it, his gaze never once leaving mine. “You have a curfew?”
“I’m nineteen, Elijah. Of course I don’t have a curfew.”
“Your dad’s kind of a badass. I wanna make sure he’s not going to turn my balls into pumpkins if I don’t have you home before midnight.”
I slip onto the bike behind him, wrap my arms around his waist and hold on—and yeah, I may have trailed my fingers around a little slower and softer than was necessary. He flinches a little, his shoulders tensing, and the hard muscles of his stomach bunching beneath my fingers before he settles into the seat and my arms.
“Besides, he scares the shit out of me,” Elijah adds.
“Aw, he’ll be so proud when I tell him.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” He puts on his helmet and slides on a pair of black wayfarers with clear lenses and yells, “Hang on” before careening out of the parking lot at breakneck speed. I wrap my arms tighter around him, squeeze my thighs tighter against his. I see his head shift down to glance at my thighs and he swerves a little. I tuck my head in away from the wind, lay my cheek against his back and breathe in the smell of leather and Elijah.
Elijah
Dropping Ana back at her house that night felt like one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I know, I know, that’s a gross pussy-ass exaggeration, especially for someone like me, but it was damn hard returning her to her dad’s house when all I wanted was to take her back to my motel, throw her on the bed and fuck her brains out.
You don’t do that with girls like Ana, though. You take girls like Ana out to fancy restaurants, or to your kid sister’s birthday party or home to meet your mum, but since I don’t do fancy and have no family left to speak of, I drove around the outskirts of town for a little while before taking her home, because Ana is one girl I didn’t want to screw over. Maybe the first girl.
Either way, the press of her thighs against mine drove me crazy. All I could think about was how they’d feel wrapped around my hips as I drove myself inside her. So instead, I drove her home before the temptation proved too much for me. As much as I wanted her, I knew this was a girl I’d have to go easy with before I choked and fucked everything up.
“Do you want to come in?” she’d asked with a coy smile.
Fuck. So not the question to ask a man who’s fantasising about being balls deep inside you.
“You have no idea,” I’d whispered beneath the revving throttle. “Some other time, maybe.”
“Oh.” Did she look disappointed? “Well, thanks for the drink, and for that thing you did with Scott.”
“Ana, that really wasn’t for his benefit.” I lean forward. “I’ve been wanting to lay you out before me and kiss every inch of that fucking beautiful body since I first laid eyes on you in your parents’ pie shop.”
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing the pub doesn’t have beds, or I’d be in trouble.”
“Why limit yourself to a bed, when any flat surface is fair game?” I’d winked and then gunned it down the gravel alleyway before she could lure me inside.
Now, a whole day later, as I scour the local supermarket for a decently priced microwave meal, I think of a hundred other ways that I should have said goodnight to Ana. My mind also constructs a hundred other scenarios where I’ve taken her back to my motel room and made good on that promise. I’m deciding between two different microwave meals, wondering which will be less likely to taste like dog food, when someone rams me with their trolley from behind.
“Ah! Fu—” I spin around to face a very chagrined Sam. “—uuuuudge ‘n’ ice cream!”
I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and take a few sharp shallow breaths to keep from Hulking out at hot waitress’s little brother. “Hey Buddy, how’s it goin’?”
I bump my knuckles against his tiny fist and he tilts his chi
n up at me before breaking out into a goofy smile.
“Aww, thorry dude, I didnth thee you there.”
“Oh my god, Sammy you didn’t hit someone else, did you?” asked a panicked disembodied voice from an aisle over.
“Ana Cabana, Elijath’s here! And my trolley cut off his leg and totally made him bleed everywhere.”
My ankle is bleeding, though not enough to warrant a hospital visit, but it’d been enough to make me drop the items in my hands. The carton of milk I’d been holding has busted open and spilled all over the floor.
Ana comes bolting around the corner, skidding to a halt in front of me, though not fast enough to avoid slipping through the spilled milk. Her legs go out from beneath her and we collide and go down in a tangle of limbs. The breath rushes out of my lungs as I take the brunt of our fall.
She leans back to see my face and there’s the most beautiful pink blush in her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?”
“You Belles pack a punch, you know that?” I feel my lips tug up at the corners.
Ana laughs. “Just be thankful it wasn’t my dad that ran into you.”
“Well, I can tell you right now, you wouldn’t have your hands on my arse like you do my daughter’s.” Bob appears before us as if he’s been summoned. Like the mere mention of his name calls him up out of the darkness like that dude from Harry Potter. I follow the line of his gaze and, whaddya you know, my hands are on Ana’s arse, holding her in position as she’s splayed on top of me.
“What the fuck, Ana?”
Sam laughs and starts jumping up and down in the milk puddle singing, “Daddy thswore! Daddy thswore!”
Ana jumps to her feet and reaches out a hand to help me up. I take it, but only because I like the feel of her tiny hand engulfed in mine.
“Son?” Bob looks like he’s going to have a stroke right there in the middle of the grocery store.
“Dad ...” Ana warns.
“I thought I made myself clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Wait, what do you mean you made yourself clear?” Ana glances between the two of us. At least I think she does. My mind is too focused on the 170-plus kg of pissed off dad in front of me to lay eyes on her and know for sure. “Dad?”
“Dad? Dad? Dad? Dad?” Sam parrots over and over again.
“That’s enough, Sammy!” Bob and Ana yell above him.
“Oh my god. You totally warned him off of me, didn’t you?” I do risk a glance at her this time. Her gaze is cutting and her jaw is set. She’s incredibly hot and also kinda scary, not gonna lie. Bob at least has the decency to look sheepish.
“Maybe I should just let you guys—”
She whirls on me and scary takes on a whole new meaning. “Elijah, do not move a muscle.”
I hold my hands up in surrender and thank Christ she turns her fury back onto her old man. “I can’t believe you are still trying to pull this crap.”
“Elijah and I had an understanding—”
“No. Just no! I am nineteen-years-old, Dad. You do not get to tell me who I can and can’t date. And you especially don’t get to ward off the only guy in town who might be interested.” She accentuates each word which a finger jab to his chest and his big biker face winces with each poke of her bony little finger.
“In fact ...” She pivots toward me and I flinch, thinking she’s about to start laying into me too, but the next thing I know she’s smashing her lips against mine and shoving her tongue down my throat as her soft body moulds into my hard one. I’m so startled that at first I don’t respond, then she makes this faint little breathy moaning sound and suddenly my hands are on her arse again like it’s a reflex.
“Hands, Kid,” Bob growls.
I raise my hands in a “look, no touching” kind of gesture and pull away a little, but it’s clear that Ana’s not done with me yet. She pushes her glorious rack even closer against me and I can’t help but fist my hands in her hair.
“Daddy, why ith Ana thucking on Elijath’s face?”
“I’m asking myself the same thing, Kid,” I hear Bob mumble. Then a little louder, “Alright, break it up you two. You’ve proved your point.”
Ana pulls away and that blush I’d witnessed earlier is now an all-out glow. She smiles, a little sheepish, but it’s tinged with only a hint of embarrassment and it seems like she’s pretty proud of herself. “Sorry, that’s twice now I’ve used you to prove a point.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“Hey, we’re having a BBQ at the house tonight, you should come.”
“Ah, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“Gah! This is because of him isn’t it? Dad tell Elijah he’s welcome to come to the BBQ tonight.”
“Yes, Elijah, why not come and eat my food, drink my beer and manhandle my daughter some more?”
“Dad!” She shoots him a stern look before smiling up at me. “You should come. Holly will be there.”
“Yeah.” I scratch the back of my neck. “That’s not really a selling point.”
“Yeah, she does get kinda intense.”
“Elijah, ith you come to the BBQ tonight, I’ll totally thow you my collection of mathbox carths.” The kid’s eyes are so round with excitement, I couldn’t bear to let him down. Even though it may mean Bob and his buddies have a chance to kick my arse for manhandling his daughter, I still can’t say no to the little guy. Kids always hit me where it hurts. And before you start sprouting some sensitive new age guy bullshit, being a sucker for kids doesn’t make me a pussy.
Does it?
“Well when you put it like that, heck yeah, I’m gonna be there. That’d be awesome, little man.”
“Cool.”
“So you’ll really come?” Ana asks as she snags her bottom lip between her teeth and, just like I did the night before, I have this crazy urge to run my thumb over it and then kiss her till she’s dizzy. Probably not the wisest move with her old man staring daggers in my direction.
“Ana, can you wrap this up? I’m gonna head over to Dave’s to get the beer,” he mutters, as he walks away. “Maybe I’ll borrow his shotgun while I’m there.”
“Dad!” she admonished. “Sorry, he’s kinda a jackass when he wants to be.”
I smile down at her and whisper, “You should try working with him.”
He’s still staring like he wants tear me a new one. “Bob, if it makes you uncomfortable I can take Ana with me for the night.” His answering scowl tells me I’ve just said the wrong thing. Again. “On a date, not ... you know ... for the night.”
“Ith Ana Cabana having a thleepover at Elihath’s? Can I go too, Daddy?”
“No!” everyone, including me, yells.
“Ana’s not going anywhere, Son.” he says this to Sammy, but his gaze never leaves mine the entire time. Then he starts laughing, until he’s red in the face.
“What’s so funny, Dad?”
“You know what, Kid? Why don’t you come to our BBQ? Ana can introduce you to all her surrogate uncles.” Ana’s eyes go wide and Bob chuckles some more. “And then there’s their old ladies, who’re almost as protective of her as her mum was.”
I swallow hard. Ana’s eyes are still wide, and I could have sworn I just heard her make an “eep” sound.
“Can’t wait,” I reply, as Bob heads toward the exit, chuckling the entire way.
I am so screwed.
* * *
I park my bike in the alley beside Ana’s house and follow the sound of Cold Chisel’s “Khe Sanh”. I hate Cold Chisel. They remind me of him and I do my best to avoid thinking of him. Ever.
It’s not just the music that has me on edge, though. I debated coming here against staying in with another TV dinner for a good two hours before I told myself to stop being such a pussy and finally threw myself in the shower before I could chicken out again.
Truth is, I don’t know what I’m doing here.
Ana’s the first girl I’ve seen something more with. And that’s a
dangerous way of thinking. Not just because her dad has the ability to send me on my way—one call to my case worker and I’m back in the clink, maybe for good this time—but because, for once in my life, I’m thinking about more than just getting laid.
I really like this girl, but I also need this job, and I’m not sure getting involved with the boss’s daughter is the best idea. I’m just about to say to hell with it and head back for my bike when I catch a glimpse of Ana. She’s standing with Holly and a slightly older dude who is wearing nothing but jeans and a leather vest. His arms are wrapped around Holly’s waist like he’s afraid that at any moment she’ll start running. The guy’s built, but he’s no looker. Holly might be as fucking crazy as a howler monkey locked in a cupboard full of crack, but she can definitely do better than this shirtless douche.
Ana’s back is to a fire that’s raging in a metal drum in the centre of the yard—why anyone needs a bonfire on a night with a top temp of 26 °C is beyond me, but I guess that’s the way they do things around here. She’s wearing a peach coloured sundress and the fire’s lighting up her head like a halo. She looks like she’d rather be anywhere than watching Holly be mauled by No Shirt Guy.
She catches sight of me and ditches the happy couple. I don’t know shit about fashion but I know that Ana in that dress is a sight that’ll be seared into my brain forever. Her beautiful tits are bouncing as she makes her way toward me, and the fabric covering her hips sways like a bell when she walks. I feel my dick jerk and thank fuck that the dark hides my bone-a-phone.
“You came,” she says, and she’s fucking beaming.
“Almost,” I whisper and her brows knit together as I chuckle to myself. “I’m here.”
“You’re here,” she says with a sigh, and it takes everything within me not to sweep her up in my hands and carry her off to my bike. Fuck, this is confusing. It’s not like Ana’s the first girl to get excited over me showing up to her party.
But maybe she’s the first girl that mattered.
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