by Ryan Michele
My scowl must be turning people off and luckily with my hair secured in a bun and my change of clothes, I don’t get many long stares. Shit, I almost forgot. I drag my reading glasses out of my pocket, placing them on, anything to help disguise myself. The good thing is most of these guys are pretty damn drunk. That helps too. They recognize me with my clothes off the fantasy, not fully dressed. Kind of a blessing.
I go through all my rounds in the club, allowing my anger time to calm down. Truth is, I want to go with him, but I know I shouldn’t. Wanting and having are two entirely different things. Entering the dressing room, relief washes over me. No Tug. I breathe not realizing I was holding it. I’m not scared of him, for some reason I know he’d never hurt me, never force me to do anything I didn’t want, but it’s him. The overall him, Tug. Even at sight and I’m a huge ball of knots. I can’t afford to let my guard down. I can’t afford to let anyone too far in and he definitely wants it.
No one can know my real name. No one can know the things I did to survive. No one can know the hell I lived through. No one. I escaped it and it’s behind me. I moved on.
I open the door, my eyes darting around the room, and my breath catches. Sprawled out on the couch, his head resting on one arm and his feet propped up on the other is none other than Tug, with fire burning behind his eyes and directed at me. His arms are linked behind him like he is in the most comfortable place in the world. “Make yourself at home.” Sarcasm drips from my words as I wave my hand at him. But I admit he looks hot, so damn hot. Shit.
“Don’t mind if I do.” His boots hit the floor with a thump as he sits up. “You ready?”
His body sucks me in. From his jeans that seem made solely for him, molded against every muscle, to his black biker boots, black t-shirt, and his leather. Yum. I break my gaze from him and skitter around the room, putting my things in a bag. Get it together. “Just a minute,” I weakly grumble. Why does one man have to look so damn good? Boot steps come my way and his hard body presses against my back, his steely erection into the curve of my ass. He clasps my arms, halting my movements and my body stills.
Everything flares to life in a way I have never felt before from one touch. An invisible shroud falls upon us and my whole world is him. The sexual tension is so thick a chainsaw couldn’t cut through it. He leans down next to my ear and whispers, “Hurry,” and steps away. That bastard turns me on and then leaves. I slam my purse inside the bag and turn to him. Why am I letting him get to me this way? Because you want him. Shut up!
“Let’s go and get this over with.” I glare at him, partially from arousal and partially from anger.
He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with enjoyment. “Don’t sound so excited.” My freeze out obviously had no effect on him whatsoever. I swear, he even thinks it’s cute. Damn, man.
“I’m driving myself.” He doesn’t respond, surprising me with his agreement and I huff. Wait. I stop close to the door. “Where am I going?”
“Right up the road to Sam’s.” His voice is directly behind me, any closer he’d be against my ear. How the hell is he so fast and quiet? Like he appeared out of thin air.
“Fine.” Why I’m acting this way, I really don’t know. I shouldn’t be and even that is starting to piss me off. My mom would be utterly disappointed in me, but she hasn’t been living this life for the past few years, running and trying to hide. If I let him in and have to leave, it will kill me.
After Cali leads the way outside, I jump in my Jeep, not glancing back at Tug but the heat from his stare is palpable against my skin. Saying goodbye to Cali, I drive to the diner, which is a short distance from X so I don’t have much time to think. Good. The rumble of his bike never left my ears all the way here and when the engine stops I turn. He removes his helmet and places it on the handlebars. He runs his gloved hands over his thick brown hair as he throws his leg over the bike and takes off his clear riding glasses. Every hormone in my body decides to come to this party, leaving me almost out of breath before I can even get out of the Jeep. I swear to God there should be a warning label on him: stand back will cause ovaries, pussies, and panties to spontaneously combust. He is that good.
His full out smile is an immediate trigger for my stomach to clench. His teeth aren’t perfectly straight with his side tooth having a slight angle to it, but damn near close. He stalks over to my Jeep, movement fluid as if he’s on a mission, and opens the door swiftly.
“Sweet lips, why am I always getting you out of cars?” His joking tone should set me at ease, but instead it shocks me with nerves. I don’t want to like him. I don’t want him to joke with me and be a gentleman. It’s much easier if he is a figment of my imagination. A guy I imagine in the audience that is with me but really isn’t. But I think that time in my life is up. The imagination is becoming reality and damn if that doesn’t scare the shit out of me. Get a grip, woman.
I break away from his intensity and hop out of the Jeep. “Maybe you should give up,” I whisper, passing him but saying it loud enough that he can hear me.
His hand clasps around my arm and he brings me to a halt, whispering in my ear, “That’s not the kind of man I am.” Shivers ripple intensely down my spine. My pussy screams show me, please.
He loosens his grasp and leads me into the diner with his hand on the small of my back, burning me with his touch. I step and try to shrug from his hold, but he doesn’t allow it and never severs contact with me.
Tug reaches around and opens the door in a chivalrous gesture that I’m not sure how to read. Most men I’ve been around, which really aren’t many away from X, wouldn’t give a care in the world about doing something like that. The simple gesture warms my heart as I step through the threshold and into the twenty-four-hour diner.
The wide open space is filled with booths that line the full-length-window-covered walls in front and tables that surround a half moon shaped counter. The chairs and benches are covered in black vinyl with chrome accents. Behind that is the cook’s area with workers hustling and bustling around even though there are very few people here. The smell of bacon emanates from the griddle and my stomach rumbles.
A waitress with light brown hair in the tightest ponytail that I am sure is giving her a hell of a headache and soft eyes focuses on us. “Have a seat wherever. I’ll be with ya’ll in a minute.” I love the sound of her southern twang. It’s one thing coming from Colorado to Georgia that I love is hearing the accents in their voices. Tug’s accent is there, but more subtle than others from here.
“Come on.” Tug guides me to the far corner booth, leaving no room for me to choose any other seat but the one he wants. I’m a mix of frustration and turned on by the control he has, that I’m allowing him to have.
I choose the far booth seat so my eyes can focus on the room in front of me. I hate having my back to people. You never know who could sneak up on you. Tug captures my arm gently. “What?” His chocolate eyes smile at me.
“I need to be there.” He points to the booth I was going to enter. “Gotta keep my eye on things.” I allow his words to sink in. How long has it been since I allowed anyone else to keep an eye on things for me? I always have done it. He doesn’t not know the struggle I’m having in letting him do this and I won’t let him know. But this is rough. I inhale a deep breath. This isn’t a bad thing. It’s doable. I slide in, sitting cockeyed so I can see the door and everyone else in the place, but at a weird angle.
Tug’s large frame slides into the booth, his rough hands clasped together on the white tabletop. I notice the ring on his thumb, a simple silver band holding a large skull that covers part of his knuckle. The skull has red stones for eyes and is pretty fierce.
“Didn’t know you’d give me trouble just sitting down in the booth. You sure you’re not part hellcat?” I didn’t think he saw my trepidation, but no matter what my inner thoughts were, giving him the upper hand isn’t in the cards.
“I just like to keep an eye on things. I guess like you.” My stomach takes tha
t moment to growl. I grab the menu, putting my focus on it and allowing his hellcat comment to slide. Forgetting to eat while I’m running things for Princess is going to wear on me. I have to remember to eat. My luck I’d pass out on the damn stage one night.
“Good to know, babe. But when you’re with me, I’ll take care of you.” My eyes repeatedly read the words tomato, lettuce, mayo, and fries off the menu while my mind races with his comment. One thing I for sure don’t need is a damn man to take care of me. I’ve been doing it myself for years and have no intention of stopping. I have learned one solid true thing over the years, the only person I can trust in this world is myself. While I may feel safer with Tug and know somehow he wouldn’t hurt me, trusting him is a whole other issue that will not ever happen.
“I…” my words trail off as the waitress, her nametag says Rose, comes up to the table with cheeriness oozing off of her.
“Hey, Tug. What can I get ya’ll?” My eyes sweep to Tug. Surely, he didn’t fuck the waitress. Right? The smirk on his face tells me he’s in my brain, damn him.
“Hey, Rose.” He winks, making a show. “What do you want, sweet lips?” He pauses for me. I’m off kilter, but restrain myself.
The menu catches my attention. “Can I get a bacon cheeseburger with fries and a diet coke please?”
“Sure thing, sweetie. You?” She nods at Tug.
“I’ll have what she’s having, but I want a Coke instead.”
The waitress scribbles the words on a paper. “You got it, be right back.” She scurries off.
Placing the menu behind the napkin holder, I sit back in the seat. Awkwardness surrounds us. I don’t have a clue what to say to this man. Oh yeah, how’s the weather. That does not sit right.
“How was work tonight?” Tug cuts through the bullshit and opens it up. Deep down, I’m pretty grateful for it. While I’m used to the silence at home, being out with someone and not hearing anything doesn’t sit right with me at all. And talking about X is safe.
“Same old, same old. Wardrobe malfunctions that required a little needle and thread, a sick dancer causing me to rearrange the lineup, and a few unruly guys wanting to touch and getting their asses thrown out.” I shrug. “Pretty typical night.”
“You like running things while Princess is helping at the clubhouse?” he questions. Ah, Princess did tell him.
I pause, my brain rolling around the question. “Yeah. I do. It’s only been two days so I’m sure that can change, but it’s not bad.” The only thing that I didn’t really care for is the floor. The crowds of people everywhere made it very difficult for me to keep my eyes on everyone around, but that is what Cali is there for.
His steady gaze sweeps over my body, heating me. If he keeps this up, I’m going to combust. My appearance has never been the problem. It’s the fact that it’s the only thing men see when they watch me. But it’s for the best. Keep them dreaming, I keep denying. Keeps everyone at bay, been going good so far. I wish his intensity didn’t cause me to melt right into him and didn’t make my heart pulsate each minute I’m in his presence.
When he’s not pissing me off, that is.
“Glad you like it. So why you got Cali on your heels all the time?” Since he’s part of the club, I figured he already knew, but maybe Princess doesn’t share the daily comings and goings of X with the club. Interesting, learn something new every day.
“Protection. Some of the guys get a little touchy.” His hand rubs over his chin and he appears to be thinking. I focus on his every action with curiosity. What does his skin feel like? Is it hot? Is the stubble rough or soft? What would he taste like if I ran my tongue along it?
“Why you and not the other girls?” He shakes me out of my glorious thoughts.
“I asked Princess for my own room, said the guys had grabby hands. She said if it was that bad, I needed Cali. I took her up on it.” His head tilts. His eyes bore into mine like he’s inside my brain again, searching. He’s going through every inch of me and reading every damn thing at lightning speed. It is unnerving so I close my eyes and try to block him out, but it doesn’t help. I can still sense him in there rummaging around. Shit.
“Guys still give you trouble?” He placates me, but he’s not buying it. I can tell by the furrow of his brow and the crinkle of his eyes. Something in me snaps.
“They weren’t really bothering me, at least no more than usual. The girls there were giving me shit and I was sick of it so I wanted my own space. I told Princess about the guys and I’m pretty sure she didn’t buy it either but she gave me the room. Then she made the point that if I needed to have my own room, I needed Cali.” All my words rush out of me so fast that I don’t even realize I told him the whole truth until it’s over. My eyes widen as the shock hits me.
The damn man snickers and I jump when he places his strong hands over top of mine on the table. He holds them steady, even when I try to remove them. “Now was that so hard?” He rubs his thumb on top of my hand, the coarse touch of each stroke against my skin forcing butterflies in my stomach to fly.
I’m pissed at myself for blurting that out like I intended all along to tell him what’s on my mind. What the hell is wrong with me? Inside, I steel my doors and walls, locking them up. He’s not getting anything else. He can’t.
But when his eyes soften even more, the steel becomes a bit more pliable. Damn.
“Well, I for one am happy as shit Cali has your back.” I nod, grateful too. “You don’t sound like you’re from around here. Where’d you come from?”
I want to lie. Everything from the past few years has conditioned me to be fast with the lies and know exactly what to say and at what moment to say them. But I can’t. The words won’t spill from my lips. Only half-truth will. “Up north.” It’s like I’m in a Tug fog or something and he’s scrambling me.
“I see.” His ministrations on my hand continue and the electrical current flows up my arm and my nipples tighten. I hope my thin bra doesn’t give too much away. “Tell me about your family there.”
My entire body stiffens and all the heat that he just gave me fizzles like cold water splashed down, extinguishing it completely. Family. What family? The one thing I haven’t had in years. The one thing that I’ll never have again. I can’t hide the immediate despair and try to remove my hand from his grasp, but he holds tighter, not allowing it.
“Talk to me.” The gentleness in his voice caresses over my skin like a warm blanket, getting rid of some of the coldness but not nearly enough.
“I have no family.” I straighten my spine and muster every bit of confidence.
“None at all?” I ponder what I should tell him. I gotta give him something.
“My mother died. So I have no family.” His eyes narrow as if he doesn’t believe me, but whatever he notices in me causes him to relax. “But I don’t want to talk about it, Tug. I mean it. Please don’t push.” I’m begging him. Shit.
“Got it.” He nods in confirmation and I’m relieved I won this battle. A small one, but definitely a win.
“What about your family? You from here?” His intensity doesn’t change even at the sound of me asking.
“Got a mom and sister close to here.”
Rose drops off our drinks and is gone wordlessly. My eyes focus on the swirling liquid in front of me as the bubbles float up to the top. Suddenly, I become very interested in his family life. “You close to them?”
“Not like go to dinner all the time close, but they know I’ve got their back.” Tug’s brows are furrowed like he’s deep in thought. Too bad I didn’t study psychology in school, would have been useful with this guy.
We sit in silence, but his intense stare bores into me again. He cannot figure me out. Surely he can’t. Having anyone slash through my layers is a bad thing. They don’t know what the hell they’ll get themselves into inside there. Sure I’ve managed over the years, but even I know there is some deep shit that can’t be fixed no matter what I do.
“So, I read online tha
t you were top in your class.” My eyes shoot to Tug’s and shock doesn’t even seem to cut it. My breath seizes and at his smirk, I gradually exhale. How in the hell?
“You checked up on me?” I glare as the shock wears off and anger boils. How dare he check up on me, not that he’d find a whole lot thanks to Princess.
“You’re adorable when you’re pissed. It’s amazing what someone can find out on the internet.” His vague response has the fire in my veins turning to ice in a flash. Damn. Does he know? I need to get the hell out of here.
I rise from the seat. “I’ve gotta go.” Tug’s hand grips mine on the table, startling me.
“Sweet lips. Sit.” My fight and flight are waging war inside me. If I run, he’ll know I’m hiding. Who am I kidding, he already knows that. There’s only one thing to do. Fight. I plop down in the seat and close my eyes briefly.
After regaining myself, I think quickly. “Did you find everything you wanted to know?”
“Not much. Just your degree and where you went to school.” His eyes are questioning me, trying to put me together like a puzzle. Good luck with that, buddy, I still can’t figure me out.
“That’s all there is to know then.”
“Babe.” He leans into the table, his elbows resting about halfway in. “There is so much more to know and I will find out what makes you tick.” I try not to panic and think about what he will find. Part of me wants to blurt it out so he doesn’t but I can’t. My lips won’t allow the words to slip from them.
Rose saves the day by stepping forward with the food, placing it on the table with a plop. “Ya’ll need anything else?” The burger smells delicious with the juices coating the meat, the cheese all gooey and melted. My stomach rumbles at the smell of the bacon. Everything in life tastes better with bacon.
“No, thanks,” I tell her as Tug says nothing. Rose leaves and I bite into my sandwich. One thing I’ve never lacked, even in stressful situations, is an appetite. The rich taste of the meat bursts on my tongue and a small moan escapes my lips. My eyes flit to Tug who is staring at me appreciatively.
