Her lips twitch, and a hint of pink touches her cheeks. “I’ll go see what I can scrounge up in the kitchen.”
I watch her ass as she swishes those hips on her way to the kitchen, then growl when Morpheus blocks my view as he approaches the table.
“You’ve got it bad, brother,” Morph says, dropping into the chair next to me.
I grunt, taking a sip of my coffee. It’s strong and black, just how I like it.
“So, you guys wanna go on the Poker Run today?” Morpheus asks, looking around the table.
Klutch nods. “Yeah, we’re in.”
Crazy Train shrugs. “Sure. Why the fuck not?”
“Good,” Morph says. “We’re riding from here down to Miami, with stops in between. Probably take most of the day, but it’s good weather for it.”
As he’s explaining the route, something about A1A and beach stops, Pinky comes back with a plate piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. She sets it in front of me, and before she can step away, I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her down onto my lap.
She squeaks, grabbing my shoulder to steady herself. “What are you doing?”
“Ride with me today,” I say, looking up at her. “On the Poker Run.”
She bites her lip, her eyes darting to the others at the table. “I don’t know...”
“Aww, come on!” Cleo says, leaning forward with a bright smile. “You should totally go. It’ll be fun. I promise we don’t bite.”
Train snorts. “Speak for yourself, Pebbles.”
She elbows him in the ribs, and he grunts.
Pinky looks at Cleo, then back at me. “I really should stay here and?—”
“Come on, butterfly,” I say, cutting her off. “Keep me company.”
She studies my face for a long moment, worrying that plump bottom lip between her teeth. Finally, she sighs. “Fine. I’ll go.”
I grab the back of her neck and pull her face down to mine, pressing my lips to hers. I don’t give a fuck that everyone’s watching. When I pull back, her face is bright red.
“You’re crazy,” she whispers.
“Crazy about you,” I whisper back.
She slides off my lap, smoothing down her shorts. “I need to change. What I have on isn’t safe for the bike.”
“Good call,” I agree, eyeing her skimpy outfit. “As much as I appreciate the view, I don’t want road rash on that pretty skin. Gotta dress for the slide, not the ride.”
She smirks and disappears up the stairs. I watch her go, then turn my attention to the food in front of me.
“Damn,” Crazy Train says, shaking his head. “Never seen you like this over a piece of ass.”
I point my fork at him, narrowing my eyes. “Watch your mouth.”
He raises his hands in surrender, but there’s a knowing look in his eyes that pisses me off.
“So,” Cleo says, grinning at me like the cat that ate the canary.
I glance at her. “What?”
“She seems sweet. And you clearly like her.”
