He smiles softly and replies, “Alex…” and I furrow my brows in confusion.
I thought his name was Dirty?
Ignoring my look, he climbs behind Lyra and starts his bike, making her squeal out a giggle. I feel eyes on me, and I notice Ace now standing in the doorway of the large building with Ice. I smile and wave, gaining grins back before I climb into my car as Dirty pulls up next to me and nods to the dirt track road, and I nod.
Caleb cheers, “Let’s go, Ms. Robins,” and I smile and start my car, the knocking instantly starting making me wince before following Alex towards the dirt track, all while my heart flutters, which scares the living daylights out of me.
This man makes me feel things I’ve never felt before, and I can’t have that.
I’m his son's teacher, and tonight will be the first and last time I'll spend time with the man because I need to be professional.
Chapter 7
Dirty
I gently tap my pen against my desk as I eye the white and blue Indian sitting in the middle of the garage with battery problems, something that is very common with that certain bike, but also has inconsistent throttle that isn’t very common, and I chew my bottom lip.
The owner said he needed it back by next week for a trip and would pay double if I fixed it fast, yet instead of checking the bike, I’m sitting here, feet on the desk, heart in my throat since yesterday. My mind is stuck on a certain ice blue-eyed, white-blonde haired beauty that I can’t stop thinking about.
Doc and Trigger were right and no, I am not telling them that, their egos are fucking huge as it is but never the less, they were right when they said when you meet the girl you want to claim, you’ll just know.
I sigh. For years, I said fuck that—even after I thought Cheryl wasthe one, I didn’t believe them because I never got that all-consuming feeling. Then when my son’s teacher, the one he tried getting me to meet, showed up, I felt those sparks instantly and suddenly, the crazy things the brothers did for their women made sense.
I’m fucking struggling with the concept that I want her and not just for a quick fuck, I want her for always, and that is a scary fucking thought when I swore I’d never claim someone, I mean shit, I want to fuck her, make love to her and I haven’t fucked a woman since Cheryl.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I groan, hanging my head back as I shut my eyes tightly.
So much is explained by my reluctance to meet her, the tightness in my chest when her cousin—who I learned about last night and didn’t know—drops off Lyra or picks Caleb up, and the protective feeling I have for Lyra, like she’s my own child.
All of it fucking makes sense.
Fuck!
I breathe deeply as the sound of bike pipes rumble throughout the garage, and I open my eyes and look at the ceiling. The giggles from last night while I made my chili hitting me right in the chest, the happiness that filled my home making it so warm that I wanted to bolt the door and demand her to stay.
The whole night she barely said two words to me – Holly, my Holly, my darling…
She’s so sweet and kind, just like Ace said. She gave her full attention to the kids, never rushing them, rolling her eyes, or getting bored. She didn’t check me out or try to chat me up, her sole fucking attention was on her daughter and my son.
She was so fucking soft with them, ensured they were her main focus, and my heart raced with awe as jealousy filled me becauseher eyes were not on me, and I knew she was a darling, and fucking perfect, and I hate myself.
I didn’t want a woman. I had my son, my job, the club and Dolly’s mouth. I was settled, content, and yet, now the thought of the clubwhore touching me makes me shiver in disgust because I know Holly is mine.
Goddamn fucking fuck!
“Alex?” I hear Ace question as his boots echo along the floor.
“Did you know?” I ask him without looking at him, keeping my eyes on the ceiling as I picture Holly’s eyes, her perfect figure in her skater dress with curves in all the right places that I want to run my hands over, her thick thighs that call to be wrapped around me while I thrust inside her bare.
My cock twitches at the visual, and I grit my teeth.
“Yeah, brother,” he mutters, and I lean my head to the side and make eye contact with him. He gives me a soft look and admits, “As soon as she looked at me, I knew she belonged to you and I knew Caleb was on to something, already seeing what I didn’t understand and what you refused to listen to. Why else would you vehemently deny meeting her?” he leans back against the chair, “You knew deep down she was yours, it’s why you gravitated towards Lyra, why you felt like she was your daughter, but your mind didn’t want to admit it, so you pushed back, only for your son to make the decision for you.”
His eyes show sorrow and my stomach sinks because just like he knows, I know I won’t want to walk away from Holly. Even after one night—watching her laugh and play with the kids, clean them up after dinner, help them wash their hands, and ignore the sparks between us—I know she’s mine and so does she but just like me, she’s running.
Fuck.
