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I can feel it.
I bypass my motorcycle, tucking the keys back into my pocket as I jog across the street to where I just saw her.
My eyes lock on her right away. She’s headed across the parking lot of the Pussy Parlor, the strip club that the Men of Valor MC owns and my heart starts to race as I wonder why she could possibly be going there.
Is she meeting someone? Does she work there? If she does, it won’t be for very fucking long. Her curves, her body, are for my eyes only.
I lengthen my strides, hurrying to catch up with her. Her phone dings and I see her glance down at it. My fingers tighten as I wonder who could be messaging her.
Can’t she feel that her other half is just a few feet away from her?
I stop behind her, my feet crunching on the gravel and she jerks around to face me.
Blue.
That’s all I see as I get lost in her luminous eyes. They look like they’re glowing, and I wonder if it’s the light or if they really are that color.
“Hi,” I blurt out and I want to punch myself in the face.
You just came face to face with the woman of your dreams and you can’t think of anything more eloquent to say to her than hi?
“Uh, hi?” She says, her adorable nose scrunching up as she gives me a once over.
“I’m Wild.”
“What?” She asks, sounding shocked and a little worried about my mental health.
Yeah, that checks out. I mean, some strange man just walked up to her in a dark parking lot and said that he’s wild. Jesus man. You are fucking blowing this. Get it together!
“Sorry, I’m Beckett Wilder, but everyone calls me Wild.”
“Oh. Well, it’s nice to meet you… Wild.”
I like the way my name sounds on her lips a little too much, but I can’t get distracted by that right now.
“What’s your name?” I ask her.
She shifts on her feet, looking over her shoulder toward the door of the strip club.
“I’m Bristle,” she finally tells me and it feels like I’ve won something.
“What are you doing at the Pussy Parlor?” I ask as my cock stiffens in my jeans just saying the word pussy around this girl.
“I work here,” she says, taking a step toward the club door.
“No, you don’t.”
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them but it doesn’t make it any less true.
“Actually, I do,” Bristle says, straightening her shoulders as her eyes meet mine.
She’s starting to fit her name now.
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” I tell her, taking a step closer to her.
I can see her eyes sparkling as our faces get closer together.
“Then it’s a good thing that you don’t have any say in it.”
