And yet I was the one to break away, wiggling out of his hold. I cleared my throat, feeling the weight of his hungry stare. “So, am I going to follow you or are you going to tell me the address?”
He snickered. “You’re riding with me.” He turned and unlocked a helmet from the side.
I stammered, “But, um, I’ve never been on… I mean, is it safe? Plus, what about the wind, my nipples might cut some glass.”
His smile curled. “Then I can’t wait to feel them across my back. Don’t worry. Here, try this on for size.” Shooter turned again, revealing from his saddle bag a jacket of some sort. The leather in his hand was cool to the touch, the long sleeve style to cover my arms. On the back was the Saint’s patch and a barren spot that looked like something was missing.
“This your jacket?” I asked, dropping my bag and pulling the jacket on. Shooter’s eyes widened as I adjusted the jacket. It fit perfectly, almost comfortable.
“Too small for me,” he simply said, staring at me like he was capturing the moment. “Put your bag in your truck and hop on, peaches.”
With legs swung over the bike, revving the engine, my body began to shake with anticipation. It was a season of new beginnings.
Chapter 24
Shooter
Shoving down the thoughts of how she looked good in her own cut was hard enough, but the thought of it one day having the words “Property of Shooter” was harder to shove away. It fit her like a second skin.
She stood in the same spot after she stopped by her truck, her hands rested on her hips. “If you think that I’m going to ride on that death trap, you’re crazy.”
Crazy was one word for me, obsessed was more accurate. “Get on the bike, peaches.” I yelled over the engine, the bike humming under my legs. Maybe she was scared, or maybe she was just stubborn.
“And what if I don’t?” She tossed her hips to the side.
“You will, or else.”
“Or else what?” she asked. Yep, definitely stubborn.
“Or else I’ll kiss you.”
She tilted her head. “That’s the worst you can do?”
I swung my legs over again, stalking toward her, “No. There are plenty of things that I could do, especially when I found out how touch starved you are, how deep your soul cries out forrelease, and you beg me to come all over my dick, and I simply just leave you there in a heap of mess, it still won’t be my worst.”
Her body relaxed, debating whether she was turned on or not. “Shall we find out?” she playfully said before brushing past me and waited for me to get back on. I’d find her limits and push them; I’d silence every thought that held her back.
She challenged me more than any brother, any soldier ever did, and it only made me smile inside. Her arms wrapped around me tight, clinging on to the last bit of hope for a safe ride. She almost couldn’t fully wrap around me, and her hands started to panic, reaching to hold on to something.
Her hand brushed over my already hardened dick and I fought back the groan bubbling in my throat. I needed to get through the first portion of the night before I could have my way with her, allow her to spread those wings.
She settled in, almost like this wasn’t her first time. She leaned when she was supposed, she relaxed, melting into me. Her citrusy scent filled my senses, driving me crazy. She felt like she had belonged there for a long time.
I stopped short of the warehouse, Whispers, waiting for her to start questioning or withdraw with sudden regret, but I should have known my girl better when she said, “When I imagined your kink room, I should have guessed it to be in a warehouse with some warning.”
“Much to your disappointment, it’s not a kink space. But we'll put a pin in that conversation.” I winked at her as she turned back around once she was off the bike. “Come on, there’s something I want to show you.” I took her small hand in mine as the rush of nerves flowed through me.
I didn’t know why I was so nervous. It wasn’t like it was a life-altering secret or something. Maybe it was something that part of me needed to show her that with all the darkness thatsurrounded me, there was a slight glimmer of hope, the light at the end of the tunnel.
Through the winding halls and a twist of a key, I showed her the hidden world that most would never guess about me. I turned on the light, revealing the colors of my mind, my dreams, my anger, everything.
She took a few steps in the center, twisting around, with a mouth open wide. Amelia shucked her cut off, placing it on the chair in the corner before exploring the room. She’d take a few steps toward some works in progress, itching to touch the canvas. I stood back, letting her explore the world of my own.
Her eyes drifted to the corner of a finished piece, lightly brushing over the “R”, her breath caught in her throat. “River,” she whispered, putting the pieces together. “These are beautiful.”
I shrugged. “They’re alright.”
“Stop, they are more than alright. These should be seen by others.”
