by Evelyn Glass
Gidget was getting ready for work on a Friday afternoon when Butch came up to her door. He rapped lightly, then pushed the door open. His dark gaze stole her breath like it did every time.
“You ready?” He lifted a brow. She could feel his gaze traveling up and down her body, slicing through her like a knife. Sometimes when he looked at her she got goose bumps or stopped breathing. Only Butch could affect her like that.
“Almost.” She finished tucking in the cream blouse into her high-waisted pants, and then slipped her feet into a classy pair of peep shoes. Her job at the boutique had been going spectacularly well. This was her second week on the job and finally she was hitting a rhythm, feeling like she an old pro instead of the new girl. “You got somewhere to be?”
“You know the answer to that question.” He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. A shiver ran up her spine. She did know the answer to that question. Wherever she was, he needed to be. “But you’re gettin’ close on time. Better hurry up.”
She bit back a grin, grabbing for her purse. “Trying to tell me what to do?”
Butch smirked and strutted away. She hummed as she readied her purse, and then shut the bedroom door behind her as her feet click-clicked down the hallway. Turning into the den, she spotted Butch in the corner, talking to her father. She slowed, trying to read the situation. Her father had his hand on Butch’s shoulder, looked like maybe there was a stern talk happening…or maybe congratulations. Butch was hard to read though. He remained impassive and neutral, like a soldier.
When her dad turned, his face immediately lit up. “There’s my baby girl. Off to another day at work?”
She nodded, heading to her dad to kiss his cheek. “Yep. They love me there. Like we knew they would.”
Her dad smiled. “Good. Now go make money so you can start paying some of the bills around here. You owe me twenty-five years’ worth of rent.”
Gidget snorted and rolled her eyes, heading for the door. “Bye, Daddy.”
Outside, the early morning sun bore down on her heavy. She slid her sunglasses down her nose. Butch kept his distance as they walked to his bike—his bike only, which was part of their new routine since their day at the pool. Why take hers when they’d be going to the same place anyway? Besides, it’s not like she wanted to pass up a chance to press herself against him.
Butch hopped onto the bike first, and then she slid into place. As always, the points of their bodies that touched turned fiery and alive, like crackling embers. She tugged her helmet into place and contoured herself to his body, her pussy pulsing in response.
Do you feel the same way, Butch? Some days, it felt like she might crack from wanting him. And she didn’t know what might happen from here on out. She’d never been in this position before—left wanting. She was liable to do something unexpected.
Butch didn’t say a word as the bike revved to life. She slid her arms around his waist, hooking her wrists around him, resting the side of her head against his back. She wouldn’t be opposed to switching to this seat permanently. There was something sweet and sturdy in him. Like she could sense the fact that he relished this as much as she did.
He drove the familiar route into town, down tree-lined roads and winding through the commercial district. At a stoplight, Gidget pinched his sides.
“What are you gonna get into today?” He always waited for her while she worked, but he usually found something to do at the businesses near the boutique, so he was never too far away to check on her.
“I’ve gotta get some tools to help fix a water line at the clubhouse,” he said over his shoulder. “Then I might read.”
Gidget grinned as the bike kicked back into motion, the breeze cascading over her face. There was something so right about their odd domestic routine. It was the best part about her world these days, but it was only something she’d admit to herself. She couldn’t let her dad know that she thought reining her in had been necessary or, worse yet, a good idea.
Butch parked the bike in the same spot as always, in a shady spot under an oak tree, partway between the boutique and the other businesses downtown. When she hopped off, the inside of her legs was still buzzing, but she couldn’t tell if it was the rumble of the motor or just the constant reaction to Butch.
“All right. You have fun, my little repair man book nerd.” She cocked a grin as she stowed her helmet.
Butch laughed, which sent shivers down her spine. The man barely reacted, let alone laughed. “You can’t call me that in front of the brothers, you know.”
Dizziness flooded her. That laugh had been proof of something. Of what, she wasn’t sure. But the effect it had on her was almost as good as an orgasm. “I would never challenge your manhood like that.”
The corners of his lips twitched up and they held a long look.
“Have a good day, Gidget.” Butch stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned, leaving her alone the sidewalk and staring after him. She rolled her lips inward, trying to quell the urges to call out after him, to demand some sort of…something. Anything to sate the needy beast inside her desperate for an intimate or romantic gesture from this man.
When will he wise up? She headed into the boutique, finding Frida busy with some customers already while two ladies perused the new jacket arrivals. There was no time to fret about Butch inside the boutique, so she shoved aside thoughts of him and leaped into work mode.
It was easy to lose track of time inside the shop, and even easier when customers trickled in steadily for her entire shift. By the time it was time to go, she hadn’t even realized the whole afternoon had passed by.
“Business has really picked up with you around here,” Frida said with a smile as Gidget got ready to head out.
“I doubt I have much to do with it, Frida,” Gidget said, warmed by the insinuation. “Your boutique is doing all the work.”
“But it doesn’t hurt to have you around either.” The ladies embraced and Gidget walked out of the boutique feeling buoyant, on top of the world. A moment later, Butch emerged from a coffee shop across the street.
Her heart fluttered in her chest when she spotted him. Was it possible to miss him in a span of only five hours? It seemed irrational. Yet when he crossed the street to meet her, she swore his face was softened with happiness.
“How was your day?” She nudged him with her shoulder. He was a brick wall.
“Got everything done I needed to. You?”
“Busy and fast.” They ambled toward the bike. “You hungry?”
“Starving,” he said.
“Let’s go get something to eat.” That was the good thing about this job—her schedule made it easy to suggest dinner dates as a natural next step. “Maybe we can go to that diner down on Water Street.”
A dimple flashed in Butch’s cheek. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
She clambered onto the bike behind him, gripping onto the hard ridge of his shoulders. Every time she mounted this damn bike behind him, her mind flashed to thoughts of what it might be like to ride him. She swallowed hard. God, he’d be so easy to fuck. There was something in his wide palms and that glint in his eyes that told her he knew his way around the bedroom.
Her breath came out shakily as he started the bike and zoomed off down the road. She gripped at the edge of his cut, clenching her thighs around him. Need pulsed through her, steady and vibrant. Butch, I want you. Can’t you feel it?
She flattened her chest against his back, dirty fantasies streaking through her head. She could already imagine what that fine physique would look like naked, twisting on top of her, pounding her from behind. She rocked against him, knotting her hand into a fist in his shirt.
The bike slowed and some of the sexy cobwebs cleared. She swallowed hard, trying to bring herself back to the present. She would not resort to dry-humping Butch on his bike. Not today.
“You scared?” He glanced back at her. She was hanging onto him for dear life.
“Sorry.” She loosened her fist on his
shirt, putting some distance between them for the rest of the ride to the diner. So she could think straight.
The bike rumbled up into the parking lot of the diner. The place was styled like a fifties throwback—or maybe it just actually was from the fifties—and through the wide windows lining the walls, she could see that it was mostly full inside.
Gidget led the way, unsure if the sparks skating over her skin were from Butch’s gaze or the remnants of her sexy fantasies while holding onto him. Inside they were seated quickly in a corner booth that overlooked the parking lot and the street out front.
Gidget slid into the booth, and when Butch went to sit opposite her, she protested.
“Sit by me.” She patted the red vinyl of the cushion.
“Why?” He eased onto the seat next to her slowly.
“I don’t bite, you know.” She nudged him. “I just want some company. I’m lonely over here.”
Butch didn’t look convinced, but he settled into place anyway. The scent of his body wash reached her, clouding her mind. It was just primal with him, in a way she couldn’t even explain.
A waitress approached them, looking only distantly interested at best. “Hey there. Can I bring you two some drinks?”
“I’ll have a water,” Gidget said, smiling sweetly at the waitress.
“Coke,” Butch said.
Gidget flattened her lips. “Bring a water for him, too.” When the waitress walked away, Gidget squeezed his knee. “It’s important to hydrate, you know.”
“Coke has water in it,” Butch said.
Gidget huffed with a laugh. “Yeah, but not enough. I swear to God. You bikers only want to drink soda and whiskey. Anything else and you might as well shrivel.”
“So you understand.”
Gidget propped her head on her hand, smiling over at Butch. “At least you work out.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you take care of yourself, even if the only water you drink is in soda.” She squeezed his knee again, dragging her hand up to his thigh. “You’re pure rock under here.”
Butch leaned back against the booth, draping his arm along the back. “You’re only proving my point.”
She giggled, drawing lazy patterns over the fabric of his jeans. The waitress returned with their drinks and dropped off two menus.
“Do you know what you want to eat?” She kept her gaze steady on him, her voice dropping slightly. This was out of her control now. The contact with his thigh was like a drug, and she couldn’t be trusted to act wisely.
“Mmm.” Butch’s jaw flexed as he fingered the edge of the menu. “Do you?”
“Oh yeah.” She smoothed her palm over his thigh then, pressing it upwards. Butch tensed beneath her, but she let her hand creep further. “I’ve been dreaming about eating it for weeks.”
Butch’s pupils got big but he didn’t say anything. But he didn’t move away, either. Gidget’s heart hammered between her ears. This was something. This was really something. Progress, or at least a foot in the door.
She leaned forward, massaging her fingertips into his jeans the higher her hand crept. “I want to lick it first, though. Just the tip. And then I’ll put the whole thing in my mouth.”
Butch rocked his hips beneath her and she pressed her palm higher, up and over the ridge of his cock. It pressed against the fly of his jeans, an unmistakable bulge beneath her hand. She wet her bottom lip, glancing down to see. She inhaled sharply, noticing the waitress heading back their way.
Gidget put some space between them, snatching up her menu. She opened it up, pretending to be engrossed in it when the waitress returned.
“You two lovebirds ready to order?” The waitress had a glint in her eye, one that sent warmth shivering through Gidget’s body.
“Yeah, I think we are.” Gidget elbowed Butch, finding him similarly buried in the menu. “You ready, honey?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Butch fought like hell to make sense of the menu in front of him. Words swirled and all he could hear in his head was the raucous voice telling him to get Gidget on a flat surface as soon as humanly possible. There was only so much a man could take. And he’d been denying it for far too fucking long.
“I’ll have the Caesar salad and the chicken noodle soup.” Her voice came out a purr. She was so damn satisfied with herself.
“Uh, gimme the burger.” He creased his brow, unsure if there was even a burger on the menu. He handed over his menu.
“The Buford or the quarter pound?”
He blinked. “The first one.”
The waitress took their menus and sashayed away. Gidget pressed herself against him again, laughing throatily. “Where were we?”
Desire splintered and broke off inside him, a jagged shard pushing him to disobey everything he knew was right. He reached for her hand under the table, bringing it back between his legs. “I think you know right where we were.”
Her eyes flashed, her breath warm puffs against his chin. “My, my, Butch. There you are.” Her fingers traced the hard outline of his cock, and even through his jeans the sensation crippled him. He cleared his throat, dropping his arm over her shoulders, cinching her closer to him.
“What are you tryin’ to do here?” He asked it in a low voice next to her ear, and she grinned up at him like she knew all the secrets of the world.
“Nothing. I’m just playing around with something that has my attention.” Her palm made slow, wide circles over the bulge of his pants, and he gritted his teeth against the ripples of pleasure. This was dangerous. Too dangerous, for where they were, for who she was.
“Yeah?” He dragged his fingers over the smooth skin of her upper arm, feeling every last ounce of reason shrivel up and drift away. “You like paying attention to that?”
She nodded, parting her lips. God, he wanted to kiss her. Those pink lips would feel so good against his…probably even better wrapped around his cock.
“It’s all I think about.” Her breath came out soft and hot against his ear. She grabbed the length of him through his jeans, pumping up and down slightly. “Mmmm. I just want to see it, Butch. And then I want to swallow it.”
Her words ricocheted through his head, making his vison blur. He almost didn’t catch when Deke came into the diner, looking around for an open table.
Butch yanked his arm away from her, straightening immediately. Fuck. “Deke is here. Cool your shit.”
The sexy mood vanished instantly. Gidget pulled away from him and affected a casual stance. Butch waved at Deke when his gaze came toward their end of the diner. Deke’s face lit up and he headed toward them.
“Hey! I thought that was your bike out front.” Deke squeezed his shoulder and slid into place. “You guys here for dinner?”
“Yep. I made him bring me here after work.” Gidget flashed a corny grin. Thank God for her ability to play it cool. The blood hammering through his cock right now was enough to make words an impossible feat.
“Hell yeah. I love this place.” Deke turned, flagging down a waitress. She approached a moment later with a menu, and he flipped through it eagerly.
Butch took a deep breath, counseling himself to forget everything that had happened the past fifteen minutes. Deke showing up was a godsend. He and Gidget had been playing with fire…and he’d opened himself up to getting burnt. But with Deke showing up, he’d only get singed.
What the fuck were you thinking? He took an angry gulp of his coke. There was no doubt about it, Gidget was the sexiest woman he’d laid eyes on. Not just here, but his entire life. Every part of him wanted her—he thought about her even when he wasn’t thinking.
But nothing would happen, because nothing could happen. Getting involved with his new club president’s daughter was textbook definition of the wrong move. Because after a few weeks in the club life, he knew one thing for certain: he liked it. And he wanted to give it a fair shot, even though his loner days crept up and left him battling thoughts about disappearing into the night and
never looking back.
“Whatchu been up to, Deke?” Butch was finally capable of words. He crunched on some ice, trying to feel as casual as he was pretending to be.
“Had to stop by the machine shop,” Deke said, closing his menu. The waitress sidled up and took his order, and then he leaned back into the booth. “Some parts that Geo ordered came out wrong, so I went to go fix them. Some shit for the new warehouse.”
Butch nodded. “Is that coming along?” Geo was overseeing a new warehouse construction, one that was safely off the books and not attached to the club, but would serve strictly for club needs. He didn’t know how he’d managed it, but sneaky business deals played heavy in it. The club had needed a safe house for their weapons and darker business dealings for some time now—the warehouse was the answer.
