Zack
It was so obvious how much Justine was into me that I probably could have just commanded her to get on my bike with me and I’d have her naked in a matter of minutes.
But as I sat across from her and listened to her talk, I realized that my desire for her extended beyond just getting her naked. True to the rest of the fucking MC, I was falling for a woman right when things were getting most dangerous. The only one who hadn’t so far was Mason, and let’s just say we’d all have grandkids sooner than Mason would ever fall in love.
I wanted to see where it would go, see what more might happen. I couldn’t say I was overly enthralled by this prospect. Even for someone not in an MC, the idea of finishing school and looking for work all while having a relationship to consider was a bit much.
But fucking Justine…there was just something about her that felt so fucking right and so fucking good. Maybe it was the ease of talking to her. Maybe it was the ease of just being around her. I didn’t know.
But what I did know was that when I took her to our second destination, she’d probably just jump me on the spot. It was a spot I never took most women, one because it’s where I got them from in the first place, but also because the bunnies in the Black Reapers were usually in Santa Maria—and when they weren’t, they didn’t give a shit about the place I’d take them to, just that I’d fuck their brains out.
I was more than happy to do that, but in Justine’s case, it felt like there was more to it because I was also doing this.
I made it a point to get through my second round of drinks much faster than the first, admittedly because my arousal for her was becoming really fucking difficult to keep under wraps. Looking at her, with her caramel skin, her curly hair, that purple shirt that seemed to just barely contain her breasts…I mean, holy fuck, if she were any less prim and proper, I would have taken her to the bike by now.
It was quite the struggle, deciding between which head I was thinking with more.
“Come on,” I finally said when I had swallowed the last of my drink.
“Hey now, I haven’t even finished my drink yet; hold your horses,” she said with a smile.
“You’ll forgive me if I would like to take you to the second spot,” I said. “I highly doubt you’ll ever see it coming.”
“Well, at this point, seeing as how you’ve kept me on my toes and made it all but impossible for me to guess, I’m just going to assume you’re going to take me to a planetarium or something.”
I chuckled, mostly at the thought that if Justine had said such a thing to a guy like Connor or Mason, they would have just scratched their heads and thought she was making a joke about taking her to another planet.
Justine finally finished her drink. I grabbed her hand, lifted her out of the booth, and escorted her outside Copper Lounge. From there, I just started walking due east, her hand in mine. I could feel her fingers ease into their grip; perhaps at first, she’d felt surprised by my action, but now that she’d settled into this little dance of ours, she was more than willing to go along with it.
We had about fifteen minutes of walking, and along the way, we talked about the little things. Favorite restaurants in Albuquerque. Favorite nearby vacation spots. If we wanted to stay in New Mexico for the rest of our lives. The conversation didn’t matter nearly as much as the looks that she was giving me.
Even just me talking about the best BBQ I’d had in the area drew a look like I was God. Whatever I had said at that bar must have worked wonders because I hadn’t seen anyone look that into me in some time. Maybe it was the year and a half of waiting. Maybe it was the disparity between what she thought I’d be like and what I was actually like.
Hey, I wasn’t complaining.
And then she saw the first sign.
“Oh, you’re taking me somewhere on campus?”
“Not somewhere on campus,” I said. “Just to campus. This is the spot.”
I’d never seen anyone look at the pretty urban campus as if they’d stepped onto hollowed Ivy League grounds like Justine did. It couldn’t have possibly been her first time on campus; in fact, though she hadn’t said she’d attended the medical school here, it made the most sense that she would. That, or New Mexico State.
But the transformation of me from Black Reaper to intellectual, as hyperbolic a statement as that might have been, felt very complete.
But what’s going to happen when you rush back to being a Black Reaper? What happens when the thought of who you are almost all the time comes back? Does the magic fade, or do you somehow keep going?
Justine kept leaning into me, pressing her body into me, curling up on me, but I knew at some point, I’d just have to say “fuck it” and press my luck.
First, I’d have to ask her to get on my bike.
And second, I’d have to ask her to get on my bike so we could go back to my place for sex.
If she said yes to both, then it was game on. It was time to be ready to go.
And if she said no? Then we were right back where we were in the hospital, with only a couple of drinks poorer. No big deal.
“You know,” I said after what probably was only a few minutes walking around campus—the attraction had been that I would take her here in the first place, not some specific building or monument, “as fun as this is…”
