Killer grins. “I need a nap, but yeah, of course, Frosty. What do I wear?”
“Sorry, love, that’s a secret. Dress as sexy as possible. How does eight p.m. sound? I'll come get you then.”
“Okay, that works for me. I have plenty of time to catch some z’s. I'm excited.” Killer’s face lights up, and she twirls in a circle, adorably.
I can’t help myself. Pulling her to me, I kiss her slowly and passionately. Killer groans into my mouth, and I force myself to step back.
We're both breathing heavy, and I adjust my cock in my pants. “Later, Killer. Save your energy.”
Her eyebrows raise sky-high. “I hope you’ll back that up. I’m craving sexy time with you.”
I bite my fist, making her laugh. “I need to scoot before I ravage you, love. See you at eight?”
“Yep,” Killer says, still laughing as she closes her door.
I'm counting down the minutes.
Feeling refreshed after a shower and nap of my own, I peruse my closet for something to wear. I want to knock her socks off.
Tapping my finger on my chin, I decide to go with skin-tight black jeans that leave nothing to the imagination, a form-fitting, black button-up shirt, and my black motorcycle boots. I'm going commando; though it will chafe, it’ll be so worth her reaction.
I pull my black leather jacket from its hanger, getting dressed in a snap, then head out. I reach her door in seconds.
“Knock, knock, Killer. Ready for our date?”
The door opens, and my heart stalls. Killer looks almost too sexy.
She's wearing a micro-mini skirt in black, and a tight, deep purple camisole with a black leather jacket thrown over it. High-heeled black boots that reach her knees complete the look. Her hair is gorgeous. Her red curls hang down her back, with plenty of volume. She has black eyeliner around her eyes, with a deep purple lipstick to match the camisole.
“Damn, Killer—I know I said sexy, but shit...” I stutter.
“I could say the same, because damn, Frost... you're sex on a stick,” she says, leaning in to smell me. “And you smell edible, too.”
An evil grin spreads over my face. “You ready to go, you vixen?”
Killer giggles, blushing a little. “Vixen, huh? Yeah, Sexy Daddy, I’m ready.”
My dick hardens, which of course, she notices.
“Like that, do you? Wait—are you not wearing underwear? I can see the ridges on your cock.”
I toss my head back and roar in laughter. Blowing her a kiss, I beckon for her to follow me to collect our ride for the night.
I close in on the immaculate black and silver Harley, waiting for her reaction.
“Wait, wait... we’re going on a bike?” Killer jumps up and down.
“You good with that?” I ask.
“Hell to the yeah. I trust you, Frost. But no helmet, please? I don’t want to fuck up my hair.”
I blow out a breath. Luckily, we’re not going far. Still, it’s so unsafe. Killer gives me the innocent eyes, so of course, I cave.
“Fine, but hold on to my waist tightly. Lean when I lean. I'm not going to go too fast.”
“Roger that,” Killer says, then laughs. “Oh God, I was so socially retarded back in The Retreat.” Laughing harder, tears prick her eyes.
“Okay... inside joke?”
