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As usual, all I get is a mouthful of lip.
It’s like she knows I’ll just drop everything to come get her, regardless of what I’m doing.
She knows that I have an obligation and, boy, doesn’t she milk it.
But with her thighs wrapped around my hips and her arms around me, I feel…different.
My jaw’s tight as I fight the feelings. I can’t let this one situation change who I am.
She doesn’t have that power over me, not anymore.
I feel her shift behind me, and I turn my head.
“You good?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
I look back at the road.
It takes about twenty minutes to get across to her side of the city.
As soon as we drive down Paramount Lane, everything changes.
I feel an ache in my chest when I know that she’s not living in some slum somewhere.
And renting with strangers like she was talking about, not gonna happen.
You don’t know what kind of psychopaths are out there these days, chicks included.
Sometimes they’re the worst. And really, it’s the least I could do to keep her safe.
When I pull up to her place, I’m glad she’s at least left some security lights on.
The place is magnificent. It has an elegant entry with a grand staircase and private balconies on both floors.
I know it’s over the top and she probably wonders how the fuck she can afford it, but again, I don’t doubt she thinks her dad probably helped out, too. Motherfucker.
Pulling up in her drive, I plant my feet. I’ve no intention of staying so I’m not gonna kill the engine.
My sled will surely stir up the neighbor. Not like they can’t hear the sound of loud straight pipes. I’m sure it’ll give the snobs around here something to talk about over Bridge and high tea, or whatever it is they do down in this neck of the woods.
My place is the opposite of this. A modern penthouse in a nice part of downtown.
It’s home to me and more unassuming, being it’s not surrounded by white picket fences and perfect gardens.
This suits her, though.
She slides off my bike, her hands grazing over me as I scrub my chin and stay seated.
I try not to notice her skirt bunched up as I get a glimpse of her panties as she pulls it down, covering her legs. I swallow hard. Pink panties.Fuck me.
She lifts the brain bucket off and hands it to me. “Thanks.”
I give her a chin lift.
“Get Rock to get your damn car in the mornin’, but no more drivin’ it. I’ll check out the engine.” A lie. It’s going to the scrap heap. RIP piece of shit. “And don’t be wearing shit like that to the office.”
She gapes at me. “I beg your pardon?”
