Her lips part and it takes everything in me not to swoop down and kiss her. I know she’ll taste so damn sweet on my tongue.
My fingers flex on her hip and she breathes out, “You’re like the most terrifying person I’ve ever met, but I’m not afraid of you.”
One side of my mouth tips up. “Climb on, Hollywood. Let’s go for a ride.”
The smile that lights up her face has my heart pounding in my chest. When I offer her my hand this time, she takes it without a hint of hesitation. Before I can really brace myself, she’s wrapped around me. The way her thighs cradle my hips is sexy as fuck.
Her touch is hesitant for a heartbeat and then it’s as if something breaks inside of her and she grips me tightly when my bike roars to life. I take off without any warning and Quincy laughs like a bird taking flight.
That’s what it feels like to have her touching me, to have her this close.
She didn’t run.
Maybe she should have.
I’ve never felt like this. Obsessive. Possessive.
I noticed every single man in that room who did more than glance at my woman. It wouldn’t be difficult for me to track every one of them down and erase the memory of her.
The moment I’m on the open road, I gun it, knowing right where I’m going without needing to think about it. It’s a place I’ve gone to quite a few times. I’ve found perspective while looking at the city where so many feel untouchable under the buzz of the neon.
Having Quincy wrapped around me is a strange sensation. It feels like she’s home, like she’s right where she’s supposed to be. But I’m very fucking aware of the fact that I don’t really know this woman.
There’s just something about her, something I can’t shake and don’t want to. How is it possible that things that always felt out of reach, things I never thought I’d understand, feel tangible now.
Like love.
Like a family of my own which includes more than my club brothers.
Like a woman who doesn’t look at me and see a broken boy, but sees me as I am. And stays.
She doesn’t seem to mind as we leave the lights of the city behind us. Instead, she holds me tighter. The way she moves with me, her body feeling like an extension of my own and my bike, has this thing between us strengthening, deepening.
I can’t explain how I know she’s mine. There’s no way I could adequately describe the feeling of it, the way rightness and reality have aligned.
Fuck. Maybe I’ve just lost my mind.
If that’s the case, I don’t want to find it again. I’m good with the way things are going. One thing is for sure; I’m burying my cock inside my woman before the night is over. I won’t be able to think of anything else if I don’t.
Then the hard part starts. I already know.
I have to convince Quincy that my words aren’t bullshit and I mean every one of them. When we pull off to the side of the road at an overlook point, the lights of the city are just far enough away to make you feel like you can breathe again. The ride was a little longer than I should have gone considering it’s her first time riding.
Twisting my torso, I grip Quincy and pull her around my body. Her eyes are wide, the sliver of moon above us highlighting the surprise in her expression. When I slide off my bike, I take her with me, easily carrying her and loving the way her legs tighten around me.
“Woah,” she breathes out, her fingers gripping my shoulders. I sit on the top of a picnic table that has seen better days.
I can’t help but chuckle and turn us slightly while pointing toward the glow of the city, the lights a beacon for so many. Is that what brought her here?
It almost doesn’t matter because she’s here now. Right where she belongs.
“Did you come chasing that, Hollywood? The neon? The lights? The excitement?”
She studies my face for so long, I’m convinced she’s not going to answer. Then she looks over toward Las Vegas, taking in the sight of it. The way she breathes in, holds it for a second and lets it out slowly feels like a moment, a chance, a choice.
“I didn’t come chasing the neon. It wasn’t even the tournament. Not really. It was just the first opportunity that came my way that got me out of LA.” She shrugs and then looks back at me. “I’ve been asking myself a lot of questions lately and was talking to an old friend, one who found out where she really belongs in this world even after all the fame and the lights and all,” she pauses and waves her hand toward the lights, “that.”
“What questions?” Her eyebrows pull together and I clarify, “What questions have you been asking yourself lately?”
