CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CRASH
The man across from me is watching me like a hawk as we wait for Stevie to come down.
I grin, looking down at my phone again, to show him that I am no threat, just here to pick up a girl to go on a date. Who fucking knew that Stevie could afford a place like this?
It says money that’s for sure.
“Hey.” I look up at the sound of her voice.
I watch as she walks toward me, making my dick stir in my jeans. She is wearing tight jeans that look painted on, a long sleeved shirt, with the material pulling tight across her chest, highlighting a set of breasts that I want to play with.
“Hi. You look good,” I offer, leaning in to kiss the corner of her mouth.
She leans into the slightest touch, making my ego inflate at the thought of her wanting more of my touches.
Oh, baby, you are going to get so much more.
“Stevie, are you alright to go out with this young man?” the concierge asks.
I should be pissed that he is questioning my intention, I know most men would, but I like that he is looking out for her.
“I am safe with him, Rodney, I promise.” With one last look at me, he nods, then we leave.
My hand slips to the small of her back. She looks up at me at the contact, a shy smile flitting across her sexy mouth.
“So, where are we going?” she asks as we approach my bike.
“I was thinking we could visit the Chick Kings.”
Her eyes widen, and a smile brightens her face.
“I love fried chicken.”
“Yeah?” She nods. “I picked well, then, huh?”
“That you did.” She faces forward again, a gasp slipping from her when her gaze lands on my bike.
“Is that yours?”
“She is.”
“She?” I watch as Stevie runs her hands over the custom tank that I pained.
“Hayley.” I wink, and she laughs.
When we were in high school, I crushed hard on Hayley Williams from Paramore.
The tank is mostly black, but with an old-school style skull wearing a helmet. I also added some roses, mixed with the words: ‘Ride fast. Don’t die.’
“She is beautiful, Logan. I like this.” Her fingers traces over the words and the roses.
Shit, I want her fingers tracing over my body. Or wrapped around my dick, pumping me until I come all over her chest.
“Fuck,” I mutter low, reaching down to adjust my thickening cock in my pants.
I move closer to her, pressing my front to her back, letting my hands settle on her waist. Stevie is a slim woman, but with some curves, and tits that would entertain me for days.
