“You moan like that again, and I’ll lock you up for a week,” he says as he starts up his immaculate gloss black Harley. I feel the rumble pulse under me, making me itchy for a release; this is fucking torture. I put my hands around his waist, but he reaches behind himself and grips onto my knees, pulling me flush up against his back. Fuck. My. Life. At this point, I am biting down so hard on my bottom lip that I think I draw blood. I wrap my arms around him, which do not reach all the way around, while he pulls out of my driveway. With this being my first time riding on a motorcycle, I am anxious and feeling vulnerable; it’s not like you are wrapped in sheets of metal to protect you, there’s just my bare lanky legs and the gravel. The thought makes me grip onto Blake tighter, and I notice his body tense up. Oops, maybe I’m not allowed to touch too much, I think, reminding myself of how he rejected Kalies hands from coming up his neck. Nope, there is no way I am doing ‘fifty shades of fucked up’ with a biker. Fuck that.
Our ride there is long; instead of my previous issue of having the rumble of the bike vibrate on my core, I’m now having an issue about not feeling my ass at all, and I’m almost 100% sure my hair is going to be a disaster. As much as I love being this close to Blake, I think for future dressy dates I will be opting for a car. “Dates.” You are dreaming, Vicky.
We pull into what looks like a nightclub. It is completely painted red on the outside and has two black doors as the entry, and they look like the doors to hell if you ask me. I look over to him as I try to brush my hair back into order.
“Are you dragging me to your lair?” I laugh nervously.
“Something like that,” he smirks back to me, taking hold of my hand and making our way into through the gates of hell.
Opening the doors, I look around to what appears to be a normal bar; I follow Blake to the main bar and let him order the drinks while I examine my surroundings. There seems to be many little hidden areas; and when I look a little closer at the people that are here, I notice that they are all couples.
“What did you say this bar was?” I ask, taking my drink and drinking it fast; all my senses are telling me that I may not be cut out for this.
“I didn’t, but look around Vicky; what is your body telling you?” he whispers into my ear, igniting that same flame that always sparks when Blake is around. I look back into his eyes, admiring the dark depths of the most expressive eyes I have ever seen.
“This is a swinger’s bar, isn’t it?”
He pounds back his whiskey before ordering us another; with both shoulders on the bar, he tilts his head to the side, scratching his chin. “Indeed it is, and it’s mine.”
Whoa, hold the fuck up.
“I’m sorry, you own a swingers bar?”
He nods his head, clenching his jaw. “Yeah I do. Come.”
He begins to lead me to the back, walking past the little “hidden” sections, and I see a few live porn shows happening right there on display for anyone to peek into. Once we get to the back of the bar, we reach a metal door that has a card slider next to it. Blake pulls out a card and swipes it through, leading me into an elevator. When the doors close, I turn my head to him. “So, you’re taking me to a sex party?” I ask, folding my arms in front of myself.
He leans up against the wall with his hands in his pockets; while he looks at me with such intensity, I feel as though he is cracking my soul open right in front of me. A few pulses of his jaw later, the doors open and he pulls me out into the long hallway. I pull my hand back out of his grasp. “Blake? You’re going to have to give me something.” I say, stopping in my tracks as I look around nervously.
“Do you trust me, Vicky?” he asks while reaching for my hand.
“No, no I definitely do not trust you right now Blake, I’m not one of those females that are willing to put all their trust into the first guy that makes her extremely sex driven.”
He laughs at me. Asshole.
“I’m serious Blake, I’m not a ‘Ride or Die’ kind of chick, I have questions. Like where are we riding to? Why do I have to die? Can’t I just be a stay home, you fuck me when you want and call me later kind of chick?”
A slow but panty dropping smirk comes on full HD display across his face; he steps up to me, taking my face in his hands and kisses me on the lips.
“You’re so fucking different, I hate it.”
“Thanks. I think.” I reply as I clutch my hand into his.
“Come on, it’s play time.”
I don’t think I want to play with him; his toys scare me.
Once we reach the door, he reaches into his back pockets and pulls out a blindfold. Where did that come from, MacGyver.