Chapter 8

8

AMITY

W hen I saw him through the window, my first instinct was to leave. I've had enough of bikers to last me a lifetime, no matter how curious that man makes me.

Then I remembered the food I'd ordered and knew it was worth more than my life to go home empty-handed. Nevaeh was lost in her writing cave when I left, but when she emerges, she'll be hungry. I'm smart enough to know that if I piss her off, I'll end up in her next book getting dipped in honey and mauled by a bear or some shit.

I swallow my pride, wishing I'd worn fireproof underwear. Something tells me I'll need them around this particular biker. I mean, come on, the guy's covered in tattoos and piercings. He's got a damn tongue ring that makes my clit throb like a homing beacon. All I'd need for the orgasm trifecta is to put him in a pair of gray sweatpants, and there'd be a puddle on the floor between my legs.

Avoiding the man has to be easier than carrying around a caution slippery when wet sign and a fire extinguisher. But here I am, walking through the stupid door with the stupid bell that might as well be a stupid gong signaling the start of the fight between me and my out-of-control libido.

You got this, Amity. Mama didn't raise no pussy.

Of course, my little pep talk would be much more effective if I didn't know my mom's love for tattoos and bad boys is the reason I'm standing here now, after a one-night stand involving a rock band, a couple of lines of coke, and a bottle of Jack.

Mama didn't raise no pussy, but she didn't raise a nun either.

I take the seat next to him, wondering if he'll remember me.

He looks up, his mouth dropping open. "Amity."

"Hello, Sleeping Beauty."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, and I start to wonder if I should try making small talk. I can practically feel myself breaking out in hives at the thought.

"You're here."

I grin. "Did you think you were dreaming?" Ugh, no flirting, Amity.

His eyes rove over me, heating my skin everywhere they touch.

"No. You're better than anything I could've dreamed up."

"Smooooth. Looks like your game's improved since last night."

He groans and covers his eyes. "Tell me I wasn't a dick."

"You were adorable."

"Great. I must have left my man card in my other jeans."

I can't help but laugh at how mortified he looks. But that does nothing to detract from how hot he is. I had hoped I'd imagined that part, but with him all up in my face right now, it's hard to deny. The only thing that's stopping me from swooning off the chair is the death grip I've got on the counter.

He's an odd contradiction, though, and it makes me as curious as Alice in Wonderland. He's kind of sweet and self-deprecating. But he screams bad decision.

"Look, I want to apologize for what happened last night."

I wave him off. "We've all been drunk before."

"Not that. Well, not just that. I mean, when you took me back to the clubhouse."

"Oh." I wonder if he got the real version of events or someone else's. "I really did just take you back to make sure you were safe. You were pretty drunk, and I couldn't just leave you there like that."

"You could've. You probably should've. It might've all been an act to get you and your friend alone."

"Trust me, I learned my lesson. But just so you know, if you'd have tried anything, I would have shot your dick off."

He covers his dick with his hand, making me grin even though I'm trying to be serious.

"Sorry about that. We're short-staffed today. Here you go, G. What can I get you, sweetheart?" the woman with the awesome hair asks me.

"Oh, I called an order in earlier for Amity."

"Oh, let me go grab it for you."

Once she's gone, I turn back to G, who's digging into his pancakes.

He pauses mid-bite. "You want some?"

I shake make head. "I've got food coming, though I wish I'd ordered pancakes now."

"You should've. Here, try." He lifts a bite to my lips.

I open my mouth, and he slides the fork in. He pulls it out, his eyes on my tongue as I lick my lips.

"Mmm…these are good."

He doesn't say anything for a moment. He just stares at my mouth before swallowing hard.

"Told you."

Is it me or does his voice sound rougher somehow?

"You want more?"

"No. I've gotta be good today. I'll get them on my cheat day, though. Gives me something to look forward to."

His eyes move over my body again. "I don't think you need to worry about what you eat, trust me. There's not a single thing wrong with your body. But just to be sure, I should probably take a look while you're naked. You know, for science."

"For science, huh?"

He nods.

"You like science?" I ask.

He nods again, taking a bite of bacon.

"I'm more of an English-lit girl myself. But I guess it doesn't matter what subjects we're into as long as it ends up with you Slytherin into my Hufflepuff."

He chokes on his food. I hit his back and pass him his coffee.

"Jesus, woman, are you trying to kill me?" he gasps.

"My bad," I say, smiling.

"Here you go, sweetheart," the waitress interrupts. "That'll be forty dollars."

I hand her some cash, including enough for a tip, and take the bag of food from her. "Thanks."

Once she leaves, I stand up, and so does G. He's so close that if I take a deep breath, my boobs will brush against him. He slides his hand over my hip like he's afraid I'll disappear. My pulse races like a sprinter at the sound of a starter's pistol.

"You gonna reply to my texts?"

I look up at him and tell him the truth. "No." I grin to soften the blow, reaching up with my free hand and grabbing his T-shirt. "You have trouble written all over you. I'm gonna do the smart thing and walk away."

"Smart's boring," he says, his breath skating over my lips as everyone else in here fades away.

"Boring is safe." I tug him closer so his lips are a hair's width from mine. "Maybe in the next life."

"Maybe," he whispers as I pull back and step away.

"Fuck it," he growls before yanking me back and slamming his mouth down over mine.

Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck. I was doing so well. I'd beaten my libido into submission. I was in the home stretch. I shouldn't have underestimated the horny bitch.

I lose all sense of reason as G takes control, kissing me like a fucking god. I sink into it, all resistance melting away.

He pulls back just enough to look down at me, his eyes glazed with arousal, his voice thick with lust. "Fuck, baby."

I swear to God, my womb spasms. I know there are a million women out there who would cringe at that pet name, but I'm not one of them. There's something about it being said in just the right tone, while my lips still tingle and my skin's on fire, that makes me want to do very crazy, stupid things.

Stupid things, like fucking him until I lose my mind.

But I'm not my mom. She was the crazy one, always chasing happily ever afters. Her dreams were wild and beautiful, but every heartbreak and broken promise was like a striking match. One day, she woke up to find that her field of dreams had burned to ashes.

I don't know what that realization felt like for her, but it hurt me to witness it. To see all these tiny cracks appear in this once vibrant and flawless woman made me hate the world a little bit. I think that's why I've always been the kind of girl to keep her feet on the ground. I knew firsthand how dangerous it could be to dream. After all, I'd had my own dreams go up in flames, too.

"I've gotta go."

I step back, breaking his hold, needing to put some space between us. I thought I could handle it. I'd flirt a little, smile, and pretend last night was just a bad dream. But G is far more potent than I realized.

"Answer your phone when I call you."

His bossiness shouldn't turn me on, and it doesn't. Not even a little bit. Not even a— ugh , fine. Maybe just a teeny tiny bit. But that's probably just because it's been a while since I've had a dick in me that wasn't made of silicone. I forgot about the voodoo that men do that makes my vagina say yoo-hoo.

"I'm a busy girl, G. But I'm sure I'll see you around."

"You answer your phone, baby, or I'll track you down and torture you until I get what I want."

"How very psychotic of you. Not sure that pick-up line's your best."

He grunts in response making me roll my eyes. "And now you're channeling your inner caveman. I can imagine that grunt means something like, ‘Me man. You do as I say, or I'll poke you with a big stick,'" I mock in a in a deep voice.

He grins. "I do have a big stick I want to poke you with. Thanks for noticing." He flicks his tongue over his bottom lip, and I catch a glimpse of his tongue piercing. Leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a more seductive tone. "Why do I get the feeling you'll actually love my brand of torture?"

"I'm so turned on right now." I jump at the sound of a woman's voice and whirl around, which is when I notice everyone staring at us.

The woman who spoke is standing behind me with an embarrassed look on her face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud. I clearly have no filter."

I shake my head and laugh. "It's fine. I have a friend who doesn't have a filter either. Trust me. Nothing embarrasses me anymore."

I turn back to G and sigh. "It's been interesting. I'll file this memory in the clit closet to review later." I wink, ignoring the woman's snicker as I grip the bag of food and hurry outside, pretending I'm not hurrying.

I'm glad Nevaeh let me borrow her car so I can get out of here quickly. I jump in, place the food on the passenger seat, and hightail it down the road, feeling eyes on me until I'm out of sight.

By the time I make it back to the RV, I have myself mostly under control. I don't bother with a pep talk. It's clear that my vagina and brain are still at odds, and I'm not getting in the middle of it.

Grabbing the food, I head inside and stop when I hear the song Nevaeh is listening to. Ginuwine is talking about being horny, which seems oddly fitting right now.

"It's a little early for my sex-it-up playlist," I say, setting the bag on the table and pulling out the food. I place a takeout box in front of her.

She looks up from her laptop, her glasses perched on the edge of her nose, like a librarian about to shush me.

"Don't look at me like that. I come bearing food."

She glances down at the box and smiles, her whole demeanor changing. "I love you. You're my favorite human."

"Of course I am. I'm amazing," I say, sitting down across from her with my own food. "You are so lucky to have a friend like me. I'm like the Andy to your Woody."

"Andy left Woody in the end."

"Thelma to your Louise?"

"They died at the end."

"Buffy to your Willow?"

She thinks about it for a minute before nodding. "Minus Buffy being ripped out of heaven when she was finally at peace and the whole turning evil and almost destroying the world thing, I'll allow it."

I chuckle, taking a bite of my omelet. It's good, though not as good as the pancakes.

"So, guess who I ran into while I was out."

"The wanna-be bestie?"

I bite my lip, trying not to laugh at the little grudge holder's tone. "No, G."

"Ah. Drunky McDrunkerson. I bet he feels like crap this morning."

"He was eating pancakes and bacon and looked like sex on a stick."

"Sounds about right," she grumbles, taking a bite of her hamburger.

"He kissed me."

She chokes on her food before glaring at me. "And you waited all this time to tell me?"

"What, like a whole three and a half minutes? You're right, I'm a horrible friend. Forgive me," I mock.

"Forgiven. So, how was it? Was it a chaste kiss, or was it a full-blown make-out session? Wait, he's a biker. They don't do chaste. They do lots of public fu—oh my goodness, you had sex at the diner!" she screeches as I wait for her brain to catch up with her mouth. "No, wait. You wouldn't do that. Well, maybe after a few drinks."

I throw a piece of egg at her, which hits her cheek and sticks there. Without flinching, she picks it off and eats it.

"So, was it good?"

"The sex I didn't have? Oh yeah, amazing."

She sighs. "I know you didn't have sex at the diner."

"Pippin. I haven't had sex since I tripped and fell on Jacob's dick last November."

"Ah yes, you were going through a clumsy phase."

I shrug. "It happens."

"A lot, apparently."

"What can I say? It was a big dick. Major tripping hazard."

"Shame his penis wasn't the only big thing about him."

"You can say ‘dick,' Pippin. There's nobody else here but you and me."

She sticks her tongue out at me before taking another bite of her burger.

"I agree, though. The man's ego could rival the size of his dick, which, by the way, was the only thing he had going for him. He wanted me to give up my job and become a secretary or something. No offense to secretaries, but that's not me. I'd go crazy cooped up behind a desk all day. He also wanted me to sell my RV so we could put a down payment on a house."

"I've read all these books about how women shouldn't try and change men, but nobody ever talks about when men do it. The sneaky, manipulative bastards."

"Jacob wasn't a bad guy. He just wasn't the guy for me. I never saw anything long-term happening with him, and I was upfront about it. But he only heard what he wanted to."

"Like trying to get you pregnant because his wonder sperm could do anything."

I burst out laughing at that. "He might not have put it in so many words, but yeah, he thought I was being dramatic when I told him I couldn't have kids."

"What a moron. How did you manage to stick it out with him for three months?"

"Did I mention his dick? It was a good nine inches and thick enough to make me walk funny for days."

"I worry about you."

"You don't need to. Me and my vagina are doing just fine over here. Most of the time."

"Why did that sound like you've had a fight with your vagina?"

"Because she has a mind of her own. She won't listen to reason. All she wants is to bounce up and down on G like a pogo stick."

"I'm sure his pogo stick won't mind. I'm sure he's used to lots of… er… bouncing."

"That might be the cutest way I've ever heard anyone call someone a whore."

Her eyes go wide, looking scandalized. "I did not call him that. It's just they live a very… active lifestyle."

I can't help but laugh at her.

"You're such a witch. My point is, if he's interested and you're interested, then what's the problem? It's not like you'll be here forever, so you'll go into it with an expiration date."

"I don't know. Hooking up with a biker isn't the same as hooking up with an average Joe. You know that—you write about them."

"All I'm saying is, think about it. I don't want to cramp your style while I'm here."

"Why would you say that?" I ask, and she just shrugs.

I reach out and close her laptop, earning me a glare. "You are not cramping my style. You don't hold me back or stop me from doing anything. I wish you'd stop thinking like that."

"You'll tell me if that changes, though, right?"

"Yes." I lean back and sigh.

"Good. Now, tell me about that kiss."