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I give him a throaty laugh as I turn back to Max. “Power is something to use not abuse. Your father might be the king of the world, but that doesn’t give you the right to ride on his coattails. You want respect, be your own man and stop hiding behind who your dad is.”
“What the fuck’s going on?” Hangman snarls as he enters the room. “Why’re you talking to my kid?”
I see the bruises on his face and feel thrilled that the fight with Trigger wasn’t one-sided. “Because he pissed me off and I’m not really the strong silent type.”
“Get her out of here,” Hangman snaps at Trigger like I don’t exist.
“You’re done, baby,” Trigger growls as he pulls me away.
I let him, because I don’t want to undermine him in front of his colleagues and also my feet are hurting from my goddamned shoes, and I don’t really care about the little bastard unless his bullshit is aimed my way.
“See you all soon,” I say in my usual sultry tone as Trigger practically drags me down the hall.
Outside, the sun temporarily blinds me, but my man seems not to notice as he hauls me over to his bike and gives me his helmet. “Put it on.”
Tension rolls off him, aimed at me, but also not really. His shoulders are bunched as I use them to climb on the bike, but they relax after a mile or two of riding. We’re not headed into Sagebrush, and for a single moment, I worry about who the man I’m with is. After all, I barely know him. I quickly dismiss my feeling of vulnerability. The hours we’ve spent together were the best in my life. This man was meant for me.
He drives aimlessly for twenty-some minutes, then pulls off the road to a small picnic area. There’s a family there. Mom, dad, two kids, and a Shih tzu all look up. Dad and mom are wary, the kids are curious, and the dog is wagging his tail. Shih tzu’s are such darlings.
Trigger parks the bike a distance from them and helps me off. We stare at each other as I remove my helmet and wait for him to say something. The next moment will determine our future.
He seems to know because he says, “You’re good with kids. We gotta get ourselves one.”
I love you, I think, but don’t say. “Thank you.” I’m not particularly proud of what I did, because while I won’t hesitate to humiliate someone who deserves it, I prefer to do so privately. I decide I’ve given the kid enough airtime, so I lean into Trigger and kiss him gently so as not to aggravate his split lip.
He pulls me closer, tangling his fingers through my hair and kisses me harder. No tongue though. “Think it might be too soon to swap blood,” he justifies in a low voice. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“I can wait. In fact, I think we should wait.”
His face falls. “Wait to fuck?”
He’s got such a way with words. “Could we at least have a date? Dinner out?”
“Why?” he replies. He looks suspicious.
“So we can get to know each other a little bit.” I smile slyly. “I promise, I’ll invite you in for coffee after.”
The suspicion gives way to confusion. “Wasn’t what I was thinkin’ we’d do.”
Our worlds are so different. “Coffee is not coffee. It’s code for sex.”
His face clears. “So why not say fucking?”
I think about it. “I honestly don’t know.” I run my hand over his chest as I consider his lip. “Waiting gives you time to heal because kissing like this is good, but I do like tongue during intimacy.”
He runs a hand down his mouth as he considers me. “Makes sense, I guess.” He stops. “You’re not blowing me off, are you?”
I have to admit I’m a little outraged. “That first kiss back in my clinic? Did that feel like I was blowing you off?”
He grins. “Best kiss I ever had.”
“Me too.” I brush his lips again. “Best everything.”
He sits on the bench of the picnic table we’re parked next to and pats the seat.
It’s dusty and the paint is peeling. “If you don’t mind,” I tell him as I wrap my arm around his neck and sit in his lap.
He groans pulling me tight against him. “Don’t fuck with me, sweetheart.” The evidence of his lust is apparent under my ass.
