Mirage - Alice Tribue Page 0,52
to fit on your bike.”
“We’re taking my car.” He smiles, grabbing my hand and leading me down the street.
“You have an actual vehicle with doors and windows?”
“Yeah.”
“So, why do you always cart me around the city on your bike?”
He chuckles, looking down at me with humor, and shrugs. “I like you on my bike.”
I roll my eyes but say nothing, liking the fact that he likes me on his bike. We stop as we reach a shiny black Mustang convertible. Typical, I think to myself with a smile as he opens the trunk and drops my bag in. Moments later, he has the passenger side open for me. He waits for me to put my seatbelt on before closing the door and rounding the front of the car, sliding into the driver’s side. I watch how he maneuvers the car with ease, pulling out into the street and heading toward the Holland Tunnel.
“So, whose house are we staying in?” I probe as we jump on the New Jersey Turnpike.
“A buddy of mine from the Marines. He never uses it; his parents left it to him when they passed and it’s just one of those things. It’s too sentimental to let go of but reminds him too much of them for him to spend any real time there. He rents it out to tourists in the summer.”
“I could imagine how it would be hard for him; it was still really nice of him to let us use it.”
“He’s a decent guy. Maybe you can meet him one day.”
“I’d like that,” I say, relaxing in my seat. I turn my head toward the window, watching the world go by in a blur, and I wonder what my life is going to look like in the next few months. A handful of girls are resisting the change and not accepting my help in finding them work. I have clients pushing back, clients who really don’t want their contracts terminated. But it’s a done deal, and there is no turning back now. There is a sense of relief that comes over me when I think about how this will all be over soon, and I’ll be able to live a normal life for once.
I drift off to sleep after a while to the sound of the soft music playing on the radio. The stress of the last few weeks has likely finally caught up to me. I wake to Nathan’s familiar voice in my ear and his hand brushing strands of hair off my face.
“Wake up, baby. We’re here.”
I turn my head, pressing my cheek into his hand as my eyes flutter open.
“I fell asleep,” I mutter groggily.
“You did. You think you can wake up long enough to go inside?”
“I think I can manage,” I say, tipping up my chin. I get out of the car and look at the house before me; I fall in love with it immediately. It’s beach house perfection with a wrap-around porch, rocking chairs, and beautiful picture windows and shutters. We walk up to the front door together, Nathan carrying both of our bags, and I can hear the waves from the ocean just across the street crash in the distance. He unlocks the door and lets us in. I move to give myself the tour of the house, but before I can do that, Nathan drops our bags on the floor, bends down, and picks me up.
“What are you doing?” I screech, as he carries me up a flight of stairs.
“If I have to answer that for you, I’m doing something wrong.”
He pushes a door open, taking us into what appears to be the master bedroom. Again, I have no time to look around because I’m thrown down on the bed. I giggle as he slips my shoes off and tosses them across the room. This is clearly a man on a mission.
“I’ve been hard since the minute I saw you in these fucking jeans.”
I crinkle my nose at the humor of his words but my body… my body is simmering with a heat that only he can put out. He pulls off the jeans along with my panties in one motion, and I decide to help him out by pulling off my shirt and bra. I lay back down on the pillows, and I wait; I wait for Nathan to make a move, to take what I want to give only to him.
I involuntarily lick my lips when his shirt hits the floor. Oh Jesus, I’ll