“You…I mean, do you run a garage?”
“Something like that,” I agree, shaking my head.
I follow as she goes around to the driver’s side of her car and gets her purse and some folders. She bends over and that clingy fabric she’s wearing tightens up on her ass, and I nearly cum in my fucking jeans. As it is, I can’t stop the groan that leaves my lips. She straightens up and looks back at me. Her gaze goes down and watches my hand. The hand just happens to be palming my cock so I can adjust myself. Heat rises on her cheeks and it looks fucking good on her. I don’t think I’ve ever known a woman who blushes.
“I’m not sure I should be going anywhere with you…Mr.…What was your name again?”
“Sabre.”
“Sabre?”
“That’s my name, honey. Now, it’s hotter than hell out here and I’m looking for you to stroke out any minute, so how about you get a move on and haul your ass to my bike.”
“Your bike?”
“Yeah, my bike.”
“I’m not dressed to ride on a bike, Mr….umm…Sabre.”
She’s fucking sweet. So sweet she makes me want to taste her to see if her pussy is as sweet as she is. I bet she’s luscious and juicy like a peach.
“Honey, get your shit. I got things to do, and I’m not leaving you out in this heat.” When she continues not to move and just stares at me, I sigh heavily. “Do it Annie, or I’ll carry you. It’s your choice.”
She jerks at my words. Then she continues watching me for a minute. Finally, she must have assumed (correctly) that I wasn’t kidding and starts walking away. I grab her arm just to make sure she doesn’t get away and lead her to my bike. The muscles in her wrist tighten up under my hold, but she doesn’t pull away. It takes her three tries to get on the back of my bike with that long-ass skirt and fuck-me shoes. I watch it all over my shoulder and love the way the dress pulls up to her knees. I grieve that I’m on a deadline because I’d love to get a look at what she’s hiding under that dress. I will, eventually. I make myself that promise.
“Where do you live, honey?”
“The old farmhouse on Turkey Ridge?”
A farmhouse? I’m still shaking my head as I pull out on the street. Ms. Annie has hit me like a motherfucking thunderbolt. I’m screwed.
Chapter 2
Annie
When your father is a minister, you can go wild or stay safe. When your father is also a monster, you pick safe. Still, I’ve always wondered what life was like on the wild side.
Every warning my father ever drummed in my head is replaying. Every beating I ever took by his belt flashes in my memory. You might think those memories would disappear since I am now twenty-six years old. They don’t. They are always there…heavy in my chest and lying like a weight holding me down. Still, when this big (and I mean huge) man stands in front of me wearing faded jeans, a white t-shirt, a black leather vest, dirty-blond hair, sunglasses, and tattoos…everywhere…my first instinct isn’t to run. No, my first instinct is to lick him from head to toe. I obviously don’t, but the more he looks at me like he wants to eat me up, the more I’m tempted. I briefly think of my favorite bedtime story as a kid, ‘Little Red Riding Hood’. No wonder Little Red ended up being eaten by the wolf. If the wolf were anywhere near as potent as the man in front of me, I would have, too.
Temptation. That’s it, really. He is a temptation, and I really should walk away. How many times has it been drummed into my head that temptation comes before the fall? This man has danger written all over him. There’s no way I could survive any type of a fall if he’s involved. He’s not safe. He’s not for me. That’s the mantra I keep replaying in my mind as he drives me home. I try to ignore the scent of him I catch on the wind, or how my arms feel wrapped around him. I try. I’m not sure I succeed.
When we pull into my faded, blacktop driveway, I breathe a sigh of relief that this is over. Now, I can steer away from him and ignore the feeling of sadness that gives me. It takes me two tries to get off his bike, I guess that’s an improvement from getting on. I hold my hand on Sabre’s shoulder to steady myself. I almost fall trying to stand on the small point of my six- inch heels. Sabre’s large, muscular hand grabs my hip and steadies me. I stare at him and wish his sunglasses were gone.
“Careful there, Annie,” his husky voice tells me and chills of awareness slide up my spine. There’s a heat where his hand covers my hip. It warms in intensity and spreads slowly over my body. It’s more than just electricity. Can he feel it, too? His fingers flex and again, I grieve the fact I can’t see his eyes. He took off his sunglasses when he crawled under my car, but I didn’t get to see their color. I really want to.