by Dee Garcia
Turning my head slowly to meet his brown-eyed stare, I noted the way his brows furrowed. Not angrily by any means, but more bewildered than anything else. Regarding me with an intensity I felt down to my toes, he scanned every feature on my face as though he still couldn’t believe I wasn’t some convoluted figment of his imagination. Warm, grease-stained fingers clasped my chin, pulling me dangerously close, and then he leaned in closely, pressing the softest kiss to my cheek that left me nearly breathless.
“Thank you for everything,” he whispered, and all I could manage was a nod along with something that sounded like “You’re welcome” while my heart thrashed about wildly, the imprint of his lips burning a hole through my skin long after they were gone. How on earth was this man so forgiving? How was he not terrified of me? How could he just—
“You been riding long?” His question took me by surprise, pulling me out of my internal struggle.
“Not very long, but long enough,” I admitted.
“Wanna go for a ride with me?”
My mouth almost popped open. Had he just… Had he seriously just asked me out?
“You mean, like you and me?”
Xander chuckled, a small smirk tilting one corner of his mouth. “That's what taking a ride with me entails, yes.”
“Well, I'm just asking because that requires us to be alone,” I pointed out.
“And your point is?”
“The last time we were alone…”
“Everything happens for a reason, Eden. I truly believe that. We were meant to meet that night. What happened, although horrific, was meant to happen, and you turning up here after the fact was meant to happen too. I won't lie, I've tried to hate you, tried to resent everything that led me to meeting you, but I just can't. Whether you believe me or not, I know you're a far better person than you think you are.”
I scoffed, the sound soft and dubious. “Trust me, Xander. I'm really not.”
“You never would've spared me if you weren't. So, are we going for a ride or not?” he persisted.
“When and what time?” I asked, peeking up at him shyly.
“Next Friday. Meet me here at eight?”
“I can do Friday.”
“Good, cause I'm gonna show you how it's really done.”
The first half of the following week was like any other week. Unsurprising. Uneventful. A minimal amount of profit. The second half, however, went by in a blur, filled with several customers in and out of the shop every day. It wasn’t a mass amount of clientele to where I could consider myself out of the water just yet, but by the time Friday rolled around, I’d made just under two thousand. That’s the most I’d made in months and as I sat there crunching numbers for the books before Eden arrived, I wondered if perhaps my unlucky streak was finally coming to an end.
If it came to be, I'd have Eden to thank for that.
Speaking of Eden… Fuck me, that woman. She was something else. Anyone could see her beauty, but it’s what laid within the walking contradiction she was that I was interested to learn more about. I realize I should’ve wanted nothing to do with her, and believe me, I’d tried to convince myself she was a monster, but at the end of the day, I couldn’t. I refused to be believe that someone so kind and generous, someone who had the capacity to risk their life for someone else, was truly a monster to begin with. Granted, I didn’t know whether I was her first mark or not, and I wasn’t sure how I would feel if I knew the extent of it all, but something kept telling me that whatever led her down this path wasn’t strong enough to dim the light that burned within her. And I knew that light existed because I’d witnessed it, her generosity and all she'd done for me my testament.
Ding, ding!
The bell above the door snapped my head up, tearing my eyes away from the open notebook beneath my arm. Eden stood just inside the shop, a sly smile dragging across her face when our gazes met.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” I said slowly, standing as I took her in.
Aside from blackened lashes and lips glossed in crimson, her face was flawlessly natural. Long blonde waves were swept over one shoulder, accentuating the curve of her neck. The inky dress hugging her figure sheathed her arms in entirety, but left a mouthwatering sliver of her shapely legs on display, just above the boots that came up to her knees.
She was riveting, and I was stunned to fucking silence.
“Are you ready, or…?” she asked, her tone light, amused.
Clearly my appreciative stare hadn't gone unnoticed.
Perusing the curves of her body, I nodded and slapped the notebook shut. “I am. The question is, are you ready?”
Eden laughed and rolled her eyes. “I was born ready, X. Bring it on.”
“You say that now. Just wait till we get on the road.” I shrugged into my leather jacket, making my way around the counter. “I'll show you how to ride, Angel. Don't worry.”
“That’s what you said last week. I’m interested to see what makes you think you’re a better rider than I am.”
“Experience. It all comes down to experience,” I said, flipping off the shop lights.
“Well, we’ll see about that, now won’t we.”
“Oh, we will. I believe I recall you saying the same thing that night at the club when I mentioned you'd be asking me to take you home.”
“Your point, Mr. Royce?”
“I was right then, so be prepared for a repeat.”
She stifled a chuckle beside me as we stepped out in the cool autumn night and I secured the lock in place. “So where are we going?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking maybe we head up to the city and just...ride.”
“That’s it? Just ride?’
I cocked a shoulder. “Yeah, why not?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it, but riding—really riding—isn’t possible in the city. You know how it is. Stop and go and stop and go.”
“You have a point,” I agreed, wondering what we could do instead that didn't include alcohol. Alcohol clouded our judgement and although I didn't think she'd try to kill me again, especially not in public, anything was possible. I needed to stay alert, no matter how unthreatened I felt.
A broad smile played on her face, eyes shining with excitement. “How do you feel about tourist attractions?”
“Tourist attractions?”
“Rockefeller Center, the Empire State building, Central Park, the food trucks.”
I blew a breath out between my lips. “It’s been ages since I did anything remotely touristy, and I mean throwing it back to school field trips kind of ages.”
“Exactly why it would be fun. We can ride up to Central Park, then walk to Times Square and Rockefeller.”
It was actually a good idea, and if it meant I could look at that smile all night long, I’d do it, even if I’d thought it was terrible. Eden was always beautiful, but her smile took her beauty to a different level. That shit could make a man weak in the knees. No fucking joke.
“I’m game, Angel. You gonna show me what you’ve got on the way over?” I asked, extending my arm.
She latched on and pursed her lips as we headed toward the bikes parked side by side. “That’s like asking if a bear shits in the woods. Of course I’m gonna show you up.”
“I didn’t ask if you were gonna show me up, I asked if you were gonna show me what you’ve got.”
“It’s one in the same. We’ll stop and grab a band-aid for your ego on the way back, okay,” she said, straddling her bike, her dress rising so far up her creamy thighs my mouth watered.
“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? Wear the little dress to taunt me with skin and fuck up my ability to concentrate?”
Eden flipped up the visor on her helmet and nodded, a devious and quite sexy little smile playing across her face.
Of course…
“Well played, Angel, well played.”
I’ll admit, no bullshit, the woman knew how to ride. She was not a rookie in the slightest and it w
as sexy as hell. She had great taste in bikes too, but I’m probably just saying that because her bike was Noir’s literal twin. The sight of it between her legs elicited a series of vivid and very explicit images I had to force away, because the last thing I should've been thinking about was how to put both bikes to use while I fucked her into next week. Who could blame me, though, when I knew what lay beneath that dress?
Parking in a garage over on East 87th Street, we walked in step toward Central Park, chatting, laughing, her arm locked around mine. Pedestrians of all ages joined us on our commute, while taxis stopped every few blocks, hoping to score another rider. Horns blared, obscenities were yelled, and conversations blended into others, the sounds of the city playing as the soundtrack for our touristy date through Manhattan.
We strolled the perimeter of the lake, stopping only every once in a while, to take in the views. They were so different at night, and with some of the buildings illuminated along with the pathway glowing under the park’s iconic lamps, it was one of those sights that never got old. Not even as an adult.
After Central Park, we crossed the few streets over to Rockefeller Center. The skating rink didn’t open until October, but the observation deck was open all year around. We rode up the seventy floors on the elevator with three couples, each pair taking one corner of the steel box zooming us to the top. When the doors opened on deck level, Eden and I let the others disembark before we stepped out into the cool night.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” Eden said at one point, as we looked out toward the Empire State Building, her small hand finding mine. “I don’t remember it being so beautiful.”
“Neither do I,” I agreed, but we were talking about two completely different views.
She didn't miss a beat, though, side-eyeing me with a small smirk. “Flattery will get you nowhere, sir.”
The memory of those words brought a smile to my face. “No flattery here, just stating the obvious truth.” I countered.
“Stop,” she giggled, pushing at my chest playfully to shove me away, but I caught her wrist and pulled her back in, trapping her small frame in my arms.
This was the closest we’d been since I had her in my bed, her body flush so perfectly against mine, and despite all that had happened, it felt so good, so damn right. Her lips begged me to ravish them, calling to me in a way that was almost too difficult to ignore, but I forced myself to tamp it down.At least for now.
Following Rockefeller Center, we trailed through the sleepless streets to Times Square, passing a variety of stores, restaurants, hotels, and Radio City Music Hall along the way too. I suggested stopping at one of those hole in the wall joints to grab a bite before heading back to our bikes, but Eden wanted to experience the world of food trucks for the first time. A toss-up between tacos and philly cheesesteaks, she couldn't decide what sounded better, so I used my Hispanic roots to make the call. Authentic steak tacos for two it was. They were delicious, and to-go food was in fact much easier than waiting to be seated in a restaurant. Gave us more time to enjoy all the city had to offer, too.
Sometime on our way back to the parking garage, Eden decided to kick things up a notch, betting she could make it back to the shop before I did. My interest was piqued to say the least, and the ride turned out to be rather interesting. I led the way through most of it, and Eden did her best to keep my tail despite the stop and go of traffic. A few intersections before the highway, though, she swerved in and out between a few cars and hightailed it through a barely yellow light, leaving me stuck at the red in her wake.
Needless to say, she won. Not by much, but still she won. I pulled up to the shop—my ego a tad deflated—a whole minute after she did and hopped off my bike to unlock one of the bay doors. When I flipped on the lights, Eden rolled into the garage with me right behind her, watching a long veil of blonde tresses spill from her helmet as I killed the engine. She combed a hand through the loose curls and shook her hair out, stealing a peek at me from over her shoulder. A coy smirk curled her lips.
“How's that for ‘I’ll show you how to ride, Angel,’” she quipped, hanging her helmet on one of the handlebars.
Without so much as a word, I followed suit and swung a leg over Noir.
“Speechless, huh? Yeah, I would be too if I just got spanked on the streets by a girl. Don't worry, X, I won't make you say it. I know your ego couldn’t possibly take it.”
“Even if you made me,” I said, yanking off my helmet, “who says I'd cooperate so easily? You only got ahead ’cause I got stuck at the light you ran, remember?”
Eden swung her leg over, granting me a view of the tiniest—and I mean tiniest—red panties, and leaned up against her bike. “It was yellow, okay? But if that’s what’ll help you sleep at night, then keep telling yourself that.”
“You know what’ll help for sure?” I stepped closer and cocked my head to one side, our eyes instantly fusing together.
She hummed and walked two fingers up the length of my tee, prompting me to continue.
“You kissing my broken ego better and wrapping it up with that band-aid you promised me.”
Biting her lip, she observed me silently for the briefest moment, a wicked gleam twinkling in those blue pools. Her thoughts were obvious, and I knew exactly what she was thinking although she hadn’t said a word. She didn't have to, I could feel it. The charge between us had been sizzling all night long, and for the most part, we kept it tame as we wandered the streets of Manhattan. But now that we were alone, in the privacy of my shop, it was through the fucking roof.
And there was no stopping it.
“You’re slick, you know that,” she said with a grin.
“When I want to be.” I held up a finger. “I’m slick when I want to be. Otherwise, I’m the perfect gentleman.”
“I don’t think gentlemen eat pussy as savagely as you do.”
“Well, if I recall correctly, you quite enjoyed me feasting on yours.”
“No complaints here whatsoever. Just speculation, that’s all,” she murmured, her voice almost hushed.
“You know what else I’d like to speculate?” I asked, and she shook her head, wrapping her arms around my neck. “What you have hidden beneath this tiny little dress. It’s been driving me crazy since you walked into the shop.”
“It’s a secret, but I’ll show you if you say the magic word.”
“And what’s the magic word?” I hedged as she urged me closer, her lips settling dangerously close to my ear.
“Please,” she whispered.
Well played again, Angel.
“So, you're gonna make me beg?”
“Yep.”
“Alright, well, in that case”—my hands slid down the curves of her body, finding their way to her thighs—“please, Angel. Show me.”
The softest moan bubbled in her throat and she closed her eyes, not an ounce a hesitation to follow as her arms fell away from my neck and she slid them between us, slowly bunching the material of her dress.
So much for begging...
Inch by delicious inch, fair skin was exposed, tempting me to rid her of every last piece of clothing until I could run my hands along the planes of her body unobstructed. But I held onto my restraint through gritted teeth and enjoyed the show with rapt attention, all but growling when that little red scrap finally came into view.
Like reflex, I hitched her legs around my waist and flashed my tongue out along the curve of her neck, licking a trail up to her ear. “I’m warning you, Eden. If you tell me you wore those for me, I'll be ripping them off in the next five seconds.”
“Then you better rip them off,” she challenged, throwing her head back to grant me better access. “Because that's why I wore them.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Curling a hand around one of the thin straps, I tugged until the telltale rip of the material giving way forced a hiss to fall from her lips. The more I tugged, the louder she whined, and when it finally snapped in entirety, I swallowed her c
ry and discarded the offending garment onto the ground, promptly snaking my hand between her legs. I'd barely touched her, hell I’d barely kissed her, and she was ready. Wet and primed, for me, drenching my finger in her essence the moment it swiped through her lips.
“So wet already, Angel.” I dipped the digit inside. “So warm, too. Someone’s been having naughty thoughts.”
“Very naughty,” she agreed, her mouth falling slack.
“And what do they entail?”
“You”—pant—“and me.”
“What else? Keep going,” I demanded, working another finger inside her.
“Your hand in my hair.” pant
“A slap on my ass.” moan
“Your lips on mine.” pant
“And my cock buried deep inside you?” I questioned, finishing off her fantasy to which she moaned a “Yes,” the sound echoing off the walls of the emptied shop.
Humming appreciatively, my fingers moving faster with every few pumps, I tangled a hand in her hair to keep her steady and kissed my way down her chest, pulling down the soft fabric of her dress with my teeth. Her tits, full and round, were all but begging to be freed, barely contained by the red bra matching her now ruined panties on the floor. And free they’d be soon enough, when her back was flat against a hard surface and I had better use of my hands. My bike fantasy would have to wait.
With renewed purpose, I withdrew my fingers, luring a whimper from Eden’s mouth, and scooped her up in my arms, walking us the short distance to the car always sitting at the back of the shop. My dad’s ‘69 Camaro. Depositing her on the black hood, I ripped off my tee and settled myself between her legs, my lips grazing up the middle of her body.
Eden shivered and mumbled something unintelligible, her eyes shut tightly as I continued on in my quest. Hooking my fingers into her bra, I pulled it down and cupped her tits, taking care to give each one attention, licking, nipping, and sucking, until her back arched off the hood.
