Lilah
I couldn’t stop thinking about Micah. As the hot water rushed over my face and down my back, all I could think of every time I closed my eyes was Troy nabbing him from school and dragging him off somewhere with him. Who knew where they were going? Who knew how far they’d already gotten while I had waited at the house for the police and spent however long talking to them about what had happened?
I finally shut off the water and pulled one of the towels down from the shower curtain rod. As I dried myself first standing in the shower, I noticed I could see Cole through the cracked bathroom door.
Instead of lying there staring at me, the way I imagined so many men would have, he rested peacefully with his hands behind his head. I gasped when I noticed that he was shirtless, but I felt a surge of desire when I gazed at his naked chest and wanted to run my hands over it. I didn’t have time for these feelings and desires right now. He was being so kind and helpful, and he didn’t even know me. It struck me as funny how I’d been looking for adventure, but the dangerous-looking tattooed biker was turning out to be my safety net from the danger my ex was putting me in with my son.
I wrapped my towel around my body and grabbed the other towel for my hair. I dried it first and then wrapped it in the towel, pulling it up away from my shoulders and back. I stepped out of the tub and realized I’d left my bag in the other room with Cole. I opened the door a little further and reached out to grab it.
He looked at me and smiled. He didn’t say anything; I figured he could tell I was going right back into the bathroom. I made sure I closed the door all the way the second time and locked it.
I wiped the fog off the mirror so I could see myself better. I stared at the stress and worry written all over my face. I looked so tired. I figured it was only because I had someone strong standing behind me, helping to hold me up. I stood there for a few minutes and stared into my own eyes before dropping my towel to the floor.
I stared at my pale skin. I couldn’t help but think about the tattoo Cole wanted to do for me so badly. I didn’t see anywhere on my front where I wanted a tattoo to go, so I turned to the side and thought about where I would want one to go. I didn’t see anywhere to put one on my sides either. I tried to imagine my body covered in colorful tattoos like Cole’s, but I couldn’t see that for me yet. I couldn’t even imagine a small one on me let alone full sleeves or a chest piece.
I figured that I’d probably have a better idea once we got through the situation with Micah. I tried to comfort myself by telling myself that at least Micah was with his father. Troy wouldn’t have done anything to endanger his son – our son. At least there was that.
I pulled on a tank top I had grabbed from my closet and slid my panties on. I pulled up the pair of pajama shorts I brought with me as well. I wasn’t comfortable enough with him yet to be walking around in front of him naked or just in my underwear. Sex wasn’t even part of the equation yet. And with crazy shit like this going on, I wasn’t sure if he’d ever get to the point where he wanted to sleep with me. I couldn’t have blamed him if he didn’t. I came with baggage.
“Did you have a good shower?” he asked when I finally walked out of the bathroom.
“Yeah, it was nice and hot,” I told him.
He lay on the opposite side of the bed from the bathroom, and I got the impression that he was claiming that as his side of the bed. I hadn’t been aware that by inviting me to stay at the clubhouse, he was actually inviting me to share a bed with him. It would be nice to sleep next to someone’s warm body though. One of the hardest parts of my divorce was getting used to sleeping in an empty bed.
He rolled onto his side, facing me as I dumped my dirty clothes into my bag. He was gorgeous with his ripped chest and abs. His muscles weren’t huge or anything like that, but they were very well-defined. He took care of himself when he wasn’t sitting in a chair at his shop inking people.
He had more tattoos on his chest, too. A couple of tribal designs carried over from his upper arms to cover a portion of his chest. He also had a few smaller pieces that seemed to come together in a larger theme, but I couldn’t tell what they were from where I was standing.
He rubbed the empty side of the bed, inviting me to join him. I felt safe with Cole. I knew he wasn’t going to try anything, but I felt a little too vulnerable around him, as if what little guard I had was in danger of coming down completely.
“I don’t bite,” he encouraged me, sensing my hesitation. “I mean, not unless you want me to, but I’d honestly rather leave other marks behind,” he added with a grin.
“Yeah, I know.” I smiled at how clever he thought he was being and climbed into the bed.
What the hell, it’s not going to hurt to let someone close to me.
I lay down next to him, and he held his arm out for me to scoot closer to him. I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression by exploring his tattoos. I didn’t want to lead myself on by allowing myself to explore his flesh. He held his arm up for what must have been forever while he waited for me to make a decision.
I realized my first impression had been my hesitation, my reluctance to make spontaneous decisions. He was probably used to it and trying to accommodate my slow decision-making process. At the same time, he was quietly urging me over against his chest.
I finally slid across to him, and he put his arm down around me. His warmth and scent surrounded me, comforting me. I breathed him in and nuzzled up against the bare skin to be closer to him.
“How are you feeling?” he asked in a low, soothing voice.
“I’m okay,” I lied. I was trying to stay focused on him, trying to hold it together for this beautiful stranger holding me close in his bed. I didn’t want to run him off.
“You don’t have to be strong with me,” Cole said.
And that was all it took, to be given permission to feel what I was feeling without feeling ashamed of my emotions. The tears started to flow. I cried into his strong, protective arms. He squeezed me tighter, holding me against his chest while I sobbed.
“That’s okay. Let it out.” He stroked my hair with one hand and held me by my arm with his other arm around my back.
I curled up in his embrace. I balled my fists up with the intensity of my emotions and pressed them against his chest. I clenched my fists as tightly as I could from the anger at my ex and at the men who destroyed my house, but I cried mostly for my son. I wanted to scream, but I could only sob. My body shook with my sobbing.
The harder I cried, the tighter he held me. He was protecting me, taking care of me. And he was only the tattoo artist I’d just met a few days before. But I started to feel like he could have been more, like he wanted to be more.
“I want to believe he’s safe with Troy,” I spoke through sobs. “I really do.”
“But…” he said again, reaching for the contradiction.
“But if the person chasing him down did that to the house, I don’t know if I can feel safe with him being alone with his father. What happens if Troy’s partner catches up with them?”
“You can’t think like that. You have to stay positive while you do what you can to get Micah back in your custody.”
“If I don’t think like that, who will?”
His arms tightened around me again. “That’s what guys like me are here for,” he assured me. “I’ll make it my business to make sure your boy is returned home safely.”
I unclenched my fists and wiped my eyes. I looked up into his sculpted face and saw that he was genuine. He meant what he was saying to me. It was written in his eyes.
“You really don’t have to,” I told him. “We called the cops. They’re on it.”
“Don’t hold your breath waiting on them to handle it for you. I can probably find your ex and son faster than they can. I have a lot less paperwork and bureaucracy to deal with than the cops do.”
Still, I wasn’t sure. Letting Cole handle it outside of the law seemed risky for everyone. It did seem like he’d be able to handle it faster than the police though. If my ex were involved in illegal businesses, someone like Cole would probably have more direct access to the kinds of people Troy dealt with.
“This was not what I was thinking when I said I wanted my life to be more adventurous,” I thought out loud.
Cole laughed. It was an honest laugh, as if my comment had caught him off guard. He leaned in and kissed my forehead. It was a gentle, safe kiss. He probably meant it to comfort me, but instead, I felt it awaken all of my desire for him. Suddenly I wanted him, and my body ached to have him.
I turned around and pulled his arms around me. If I had continued to face him, there was no telling what I would have done. I pressed my back against him, keeping a space between my hips and his.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Was that bad?”
“Just hold me,” I replied, ignoring the answer to his question.
The answer was: No, that wasn’t bad. That was great, actually. I want to feel your lips on mine. I want to taste your breath in your kiss. I want your hands to grab me, to possess me, and I want you inside of me, making me yours. I don’t want this to turn into a game where we have to guess each other’s intentions and desires. I want you to know what I want from you, and I want to know the same. I didn’t think we were quite to that point yet, regardless of how I felt.
I sighed as I pushed the answer down. I held his hands in mine, intertwining our fingers over my stomach. His touch was both comforting and thrilling. I felt safe, but I also felt a surge of electricity flowing underneath my skin, all through my body. I closed my eyes to it, trying to ignore it.
It wasn’t late. It wasn’t even dark out. I just needed the quiet comfort of being in a peaceful man’s arms. Then my phone rang, ruining the peace and quiet of the moment.
My eyes shot open, and my body jumped as I let go of Cole and reached for my phone, which was in my jeans pocket in the bag on the floor. I frantically searched for the pocket and pulled it out.
“That’s Troy’s ringtone,” I explained to Cole while I searched for the phone. “It could be Micah.”
“Okay, I understand,” he said. He didn’t try to hold me back or stop me from grabbing my phone.
“Hello?” I answered out of breath after I finally got the phone out of my jeans.
“Hey, calm down. It’s just me,” Troy said. “I wanted to call and let you know that we’re safe. Micah is okay; it’s just a little stomach bug. The nurse said it’s going around right now.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “You had me worried there for a minute.”
“No need to worry. We’re going to stay up here for a few days to let the virus and the storm pass. Do you want to talk to him?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, trying not to snap his head off and cause more trouble.
I shot Cole a look. I hoped to convey how hopeful and excited I was to hear my son’s voice. Instead, I probably looked scared or crazy.
“Hi, Mom,” I heard Micah say, and all my anxiety and fear melted.