She chuckled lightly. “Sorry, I just hadn’t pictured you as being a cuddler.”
I shrugged, not at all offended. “You’re right. I’m not sure I’ve ever really done it much, but I like the idea of it with you. Just sitting here with you in my arms has been a nice way to spend an evening.”
“I think so, too,” she agreed softly, then laid her palm flat on my chest. I covered her hand with one of mine, then dropped another kiss on the top of her head. I threaded the fingers of my other hand through her hair, admiring how soft and silky the dark tresses were.
“Will you let me take you for a ride on my bike Sunday afternoon?” I was surprised at how natural it felt to ask her that question. The men in my family didn’t let random women ride with us. Some bikers didn’t care, including several of my club brothers, but for the Morgan men it was an honor reserved for an Ol’ Lady, or a serious girlfriend at least. Christy was the only woman who had ever been on the back of my bike, aside from my mom and my sister. Jagger and Rome had never had women outside the family riding except for Molly and Abby, and as far as I knew, Lucky had always ridden solo, too. As usual, Ace was the odd man out in the family. I’d seen that asshole with club bunnies, strippers, and random bitches on the back of his bike too many times to count.
“I’d love to! God, I haven’t ridden in years,” she replied excitedly.
My fingers stilled, the strands curling around my fingers as I resisted the urge to tighten my fist and twist her head back to look at me. I had to force my body to relax, and made an effort to keep my tone casual as I asked, “Who did you ride with?”
“Oh, I went to high school with a guy named Chris, who lived down the road from me. He and his older brother, Mike, both had motorcycles. Chris used to give me a ride to school sometimes if I missed the bus, and I rode around town with Mike a couple of times. He was four years older, though, so when my Gramps found out, that was the end of that.” She chuckled at the memory, and I breathed deeply in an effort to ease the tension that gripped me at the thought of her on the back ofsome motherfucker’s bike, with her arms wrapped around him, holding him tight.
The flare of possessiveness that shot through me was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I’d seen it with my sons and their wives, with my parents, even with Cowboy and my sister, but I’d never felt it myself before I’d met the woman in my arms, not even with my ex-wife. There had been hints of it that first day, thinking that my dad had a thing for her. The feeling got stronger the day I’d found her with Ryan Simpson at the bar, but this – the idea of her on another man’s bike – yeah, I fucking hated it. I consoled myself with the fact that it had been over twenty years ago and sounded innocent enough.
I knew I was being a damned hypocrite. After all, I’d had Christy on my bike hundreds of times in our almost eight years together. Still, I felt the need to have Ella at my back, making her forget all about those Chris and Mike dipshits, whoever the fuck they were.
“Well, then we definitely need to get you on the back of my bike. We have Church Sunday morning at ten, but I can pick you up around noon. We’ll grab lunch out, then take a ride down through Brown County if you want.”
“That sounds perfect.” I squeezed her hand, then raised it and brought it to my lips for a quick kiss.
Yeah, it did. The rolling hills and winding roads in that area made for some great riding, and having Ella wrapped around me would make it sheer, fucking perfection.
I left about ten minutes later, knowing that her kids would be home soon, and that if I stayed any longer, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself. When I explained that to Ella, she blushed at my words. It was cute as hell.
“Goodnight, sugar. Sweet dreams.” I whispered against her temple before I opened the door and stepped out into the warm night air.
“Goodnight, Dante. Drive carefully,” she cautioned, and I wondered when I’d heard those words last. Probably before my mom died.
I mounted my bike and fired it up, glancing next door to my dad’s place. The front curtains twitched, and I could see his silhouette against the lights in the living room. I gave him a quick salute, knowing I’d get another lecture from him about treating his Eleanor right. The old man was worried I would fuck things up again, but once I’d convinced him that I was serious about her, he was all for us getting together.
As I rode home, I got so lost imagining all the things I wanted to do to her delectable body, I almost drove right past my own damned street. I braked and turned at the last second, cursing myself for letting my mind wander that much while I was riding. That was a damned good way to end up laying down a bike, and I fucking knew better.
I went to sleep with a smile on my face, after rubbing one out again to the thought of Ella’s lush curves and addictive kisses. They were proving to be a potent combination and holding her close to me this evening had gotten me horny as hell. It had also made me want more evenings like that. She was smart and funny, sweet and fiery – everything I could want in a woman, and then some. She was going to keep me on my toes, there was no doubt about it, and I couldn’t wait.
