Page 29 of Misadventures of a Biker

“We can do the other,” I blurted. “Wait.” I gave him a confused look. “Grudge-fuck? Because of what I said in that meeting?”

“More or less.”

“Okay, fine. Grudge-fuck me.” I wagged my brows. “Sounds fun.”

Waiting for me to unblock the doorway, he looked me over. “Too late for that,” he said dryly.

“Too late? It’s barely past six.”

“I was going to grudge-fuck you because you were an irritating bitch,” he said flatly. “Now? After being around you for a bit? I’ve changed my mind.”

I wondered what I did to piss him off so much that he wouldn’t even grudge-fuck me. I quickly ran through everything that had happened and came up short.

“What did I do?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “I just decided I kind of like you.”

My face flashed hot. I hoped he couldn’t tell, but I was sure he could. “Oh,” I said snidely. “So now you don’t want to get your little feelers hurt.”

He took the one step that separated us and pressed his massive chest against mine. A faint hint of his cologne mixed with the aroma of his manly musk.

I nearly melted into a puddle at his feet.

He peered into my eyes. “If your pussy’s half as good as your tits, your ass, or your pretty little face, fucking it once isn’t going to be enough. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.” He pushed his way past me and strode toward the door. “Don’t forget your purse.”

Chapter Nine

Devin

I’d spent the night wondering if my decision to walk away from Teddi was a good one. I desperately desired her, but I feared the aftermath. If my past “relationships” were any indication, she’d eventually get fed up with my antics and run as fast and as far as she was able.

For some men, aggressive sex followed a night of drinking. For others, it was a means of controlling their sexual partner. Slow, soft, sensual sex had never been an option for me. In fact, I couldn’t achieve an erection without having a fistful of a woman’s hair in my hand.

Eventually, my sexual requirements grew old with my partners. It wasn’t surprising. Deep within my being, I yearned to one day be normal. Sadly, I knew that day would never come.

Unable to sleep, I sat at the kitchen table, sipping my coffee and wondering why I was different from most men.

Herb entered the kitchen, paused, and gave me a confused look. “What in the hell are you doing up at the ass crack of dawn on a Saturday morning?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Surprising, considering how late you came in last night.”

“I went for a ride.”

“To where? Miami? Go to see your hooligan friends?”

“Tampa. Rode up there, got some tacos at an all-night stand, and rode back.”

“Two hundred miles for a taco?” He shuffled to the coffeepot and poured a cup. “That makes perfect sense.”

“Did to me.”

“Everything all right?”

“Not especially.”

“Want to talk about it?”