Riding my bike has always been an escape for me—just me and the road and the wind, and nothing else. Having a chick wrapped around me, giving me a hard-on, is an invasion of the Zen I usually feel when riding, but I ain’t gonna complain.
A few times she rests her cheek against my shoulder, her arms squeezing me tighter, hiding in me.
Melting into me.
The driveway is dusty and gravelly, and I take it slow when I turn in so I don’t wipe out. I park just in front of the garage and kill the engine. She takes the cue and hops off, walking around a bit to stretch her legs as I unlock the garage and push the bike in next to my hot rod. I pull my stuff out of my saddlebags and find her standing by the lake.
“Where are we?” she asks me when she hears me walk up behind her.
“My place.” I follow her blinkless stare over the water. “Wanna come inside?”
She nods absently and crosses her arms, hugging herself. I’ve never seen a person look so incredibly lost before.
I cock my head towards the house. “Come on.” I head for the house, and she follows a few feet behind me.
Sterling is sitting in the hallway when we walk in as if he’s been waiting for me. I lean down and pat his head and he meows softly.
“Oh no!” She’s on the floor instantly, scooping him up in her arms. “What happened to him?”
I throw my keys on the credenza by the door. “Yeah, a friend gave him to me. His name is Sterling. He was tortured by some sick fucking kids and lost his eyes. He’s okay, though; not in pain or anything. It’s amazing how he gets around, actually.”
Her mouth drops open in horror and she starts to stroke his head, and of course he’s loving it. “Poor little guy,” she coos. She looks up at me. “It’s so nice you’re taking care of him. He’s just precious.”
So, Sterling is a chick magnet. I’ll have to thank Evie for that little bonus. I shrug. “It’s no big deal. I just feed him and let him hang out.”
“I want to kill those fuckers that hurt him.” Her voice is laced with hatred, and I like it. She’s a spunky little thing beneath all that sadness. There’s still hope for her, but I wonder what she would do to me if she knew who I was.
I head for the kitchen and take out two bottles of water that Evie has left in the refrigerator, along with a shit-ton of other food for me. Tabitha follows me, still holding the cat.
I grin and offer the water to her. “He can walk, ya know,” I tell her. Her face reddens, and she gently puts the cat back down on the floor and watches him prance across the room. Straightening, she wipes at her eyes and looks around.
“Can I use your bathroom and wash my face? I’m kind of a mess.”
I step closer to her and she doesn’t back away from me. “I like messes,” I say, my gaze traveling from her pouty lips up to her eyes. I push a strand of hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear, my finger lightly touching her flushed cheek. She sucks in a breath but doesn’t break eye contact. “The bathroom’s down the hall.” I say.
I step back and she practically runs down the hall, away from me.