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Cora’s face passes through my mind like a movie. The beautiful smile when I made her laugh. Her captivating blush when I pissed her off. The way her lips had parted when I’d plunged inside of her sweet heat.
I’ve had some amazing sexual partners, but they’ve all amounted to nothing when compared to her. There’s only one Cora, the beautiful, mouthy bartender, who made mefeelsomething after all these years. The woman I’d just let walk out of this room without a word.
Go after her, fucker.
Maybe it would be better to just pack up my shit and hit the road, but the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach. It would be no better than what I’ve done so many other times before.
Fuck that. I’m not doing that to Cora.
I want to know why she came to my motel room and let me touch her sweet body? And then I want to know why she left? I guess the only way I’m going to get any answers is to go after her.
My confidence is shaken for the first time in my life. I’ve never second-guessed any of my decisions about women until now—until Cora.
I consider it all. Could I live with not trying?
I felt something, and she felt it too—I know she did.
The feeling as she came around my cock felt like home. I want that and so much more.
I’m only a few steps away from the door when there’s a knock, and relief washes over me.
Cora’s back.
I throw open the door, only to hear the housekeeper scream, her eyes bugging out of her head. Even the old lady from across the hall is as shocked as the housekeeper to see my naked ass panting in the doorway. I peer left and right down the hall, but there’s no Cora in sight.
“Did you see a woman leave here?”
“No!” the housekeeper squeaks. “Sir, your clothes!” She averts her eyes before making a mad dash down the hall. The older lady clutches the pearls around her neck, but hasn’t once looked away.
I nod to her before closing the door. “Ma’am.” As the lock clicks into place, I rest my head against the cool wood before slamming my fists into it. The pain radiates through my wrists, all the way up my arms. I’m pretty sure I might’ve cracked a knuckle or two, but it’s nothing compared to what’s raging inside of me.
If it’s a chase she wants, I’ll fucking give it to her.
First step? Show her what she’s missing out on if she walks away from temptation at its finest, and a misguided use of my religious upbringing to use to my advantage. My dad would besoproud of me.
Spinning on my heel, I go straight to my bag. Not having access to a washing machine while camping bites me in the ass when I dig through the mostly wrinkled clothes. T-shirts, all black.Fuck.I need something better, but finding something that isn’t black, leather, or bike related in Sturgis will be difficult. I’d seen that for myself when Judge had me out shopping with the ladies.
Think, dumbass. Think!
A grin spreads across my lips when I realize my salvation might just be next door. We’re about the same size, or close enough to it.
Shoving myself into a clean pair of jeans and donning my black riding boots, I grab my wallet, keys, and phone, and stuff them into my pockets. Lastly, I grab my cut and storm out of the room. I have to knock a few times before Priest finally answers, eyeing me up and down.
“If you’re looking for more of a good time, I think you’ve got the wrong room. The old lady is back that way.”
“Heard that, huh?”
“I heard a lot of shit.” No doubt he did. The walls were made thin in these older motels. I should apologize, but nah, I won’t.
I push through the door and past him. “I need a shirt, one of those nice ones you have.”
His brows raise in confusion. “Why?”
“Because I fucking asked for one.”
Rolling his eyes, he heads to a duffle bag set out on the desk. Pulling out a few T-shirts, he tosses me a royal blue button-up shirt. “I’d like that back in one piece.”
I pull it over my broad shoulders and button it up. Priest is a monster so the shirt hangs loose, but I button it up anyway. It’ll have to do.
