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“He likes it. Don’t be an ass,” Andrea says, rolling her eyes at Mac. “So are you new in town?” She turns back to me.
“Yeah.” I nod, sipping my beer. “New job starts tomorrow.”
“Andrea. Leave the guy alone. Let him drink in peace.” The grumpy bartender warns as he walks by again. He towers over her, the top of her head just barely coming to his chin. He brushes past her, his hand grazing her elbow, which tells me they are close.
“Not everyone is in a shit mood, like you!” Andrea calls after him. She grabs a rag, wiping the counter in front of me.
I watch her for a moment, still not ready for her to tend to the others at the bar. She’s too interesting and I want her entertainment for the evening, so I try to keep her attention to myself. “So only a week on the job? How are you liking it?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation alive with this intriguing woman.
“Yeah. I just turned twenty-one last week. I love it. The tips are awesome, and it helps I’m a huge people person. Mac hasn’t let me work the weekend yet. Once I get some Saturdays, I’ll be making bank.” Being eight years younger than me, I now seewhy she is bursting with so much energy. She greets another customer, and then comes right back to me when she notices my drink almost empty.
“Need another one?”
“Please,” I say as she takes the empty glass, making a fresh drink. “Thanks.”
She smiles, then tosses the rag she’s holding. “Mac. Taking a smoke break.” She rounds the corner from behind the bar and slips out the front door.
I’ve never smoked a cigarette a day in my life, but something makes me head to the exit so that I can join her. It might be the way her voice lures me in with just a few words, or the way her tight ass shakes in her dark jeans as she walks away. It definitely helps motivate me.
Outside, she leans against the wall, her phone against her ear, as she chats with someone. When she spots me, she waves. “Gotta go, I’ll call you later.”
“Hey.” Andrea slides her phone into the back pocket of her jeans, resting one foot against the wall. Her hair falls over her shoulder, the light from above hits it just right, making her brown locks shine.
“Can I bum one?” I ask.
Pulling out her Lucky Strikes, she hands me the pack. After taking one out, I hand it back and slide the cigarette between my lips. She brings her hands towards my mouth, lighting my cancer stick for me. When she pulls away, her fingertip brushes against my bottom lip. I close my eyes, willing my cock not to harden from the gentle touch.
“You a biker, Colby?” Andrea asks, inhaling her smoke.
“How’d you guess?” I raise an eyebrow, giving her a smirk to imply my bad boy side.
“The bike.” She nods her head at the bike sitting in the front lot of the bar. “I’ve never been on one.”
I turn, glancing at my bike. I don’t answer, so she elaborates. “Your leather jacket and riding boots might have given it away, too.”
“I can take you for a ride sometime.” I shouldn’t, I should leave this bar and never, ever return. Relationships don’t go well with me in general, let alone when I’m trying to infiltrate an organized crime ring.
“Okay.” She puts her cigarette out and drops it in the ashtray. “Let’s go.”
“What? Now? You’re working. And I gotta close my tab.” I offer an attempt to give her an out.
“You can close it with me later.” Her grin is mischievous and her eyes sparkle as she skips off the sidewalk, towards my bike.
I follow her without putting up much of a fight. My conscience wants me to stop, to make an excuse and get the fuck out of there. But I don’t. Instead, I hand her my helmet and sink onto my ride. Her eyes hold mine as she fastens the chin strap, then grabs my bicep to help her swing her leg over. Her arms snake around my waist as she hugs me from behind, a warmth radiating from my spine and into my neck.
“Look at that. We’re a perfect fit.” The hairs on the back of my neck stand upright as she whispers in my ear. The heat of her breath leaves a dampness on my skin. “Take me for a ride, Colby.”
I swallow hard at the sound of my new name. Revving the engine, I kick up the stand and back the bike out of the parking lot. Andrea squeezes me tightly as we drive away.
Once I hit the open road outside of the city limits, I don’t stop, and she doesn’t seem to mind. Her hands squeeze me tightly around my waist, a reminder of her presence. She doesn’t complain once. I’m grateful that she rides in silence, because I don’t think I could handle the sound of her soft voice teasing me, or the contact of her lips against my ear.
Not that the silence matters when I feel her fingers digging into my waist, and her tits squished tightly against my back as I make a turn. Her hair flows freely, untied, so on the open road, the wind shuffles it around, and some of it gets in my mouth.
I’m not used to having anyone on my bike, but it feels good to have her squeezing me, holding onto me for dear life. She trusts me and she doesn’t even know me.
