Bastard woke slowly the next morning, becoming aware of the warmth against him before anything else. He turned his head, finding Kit nestled into his arms, breathing softly into his side. Burrowed like an animal in winter. He cracked a smile, watching her for a moment. This was nice. And nice was something he didn’t come across too often.
He stayed there against her as long as his bladder could hold out. But finally the urge to pee overrode his desire to stay in bed. He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could, leaving her covered in the sheets. She stirred, grumbling.
Bastard yawned while he peed, alertness slowly working its way through him. Staying in bed with Kit seemed like the best course of action, but they needed to hit the road. The Damned Devils L.A. chapter was expecting him by the day after next, which meant his little road trip with his sweet Peach couldn’t take any longer than if it were just him solo.
His sweet Peach. He flushed, the phrase cycling awkwardly in his head. They’d fucked twice, only once which she remembered clearly. Did that make her his?
He knew better than to think about shit like this, which was precisely why he never did it. But it was easier with other girls; somehow, some way, Kit got under his skin. Probably because he’d never felt a woman come so hard on top of him before in his entire life.
He went to the sink, splashing water on his face. His cock twitched at the memory, even though they’d fucked until the wee hours of the morning. Seemed like that should be enough by now. But yet…
Kit sighed from the bed. He peeked around the corner, finding her looking around the room slit-eyed.
“Morning, Peach.”
She yawned. “Morning, Bastard.”
He brushed his teeth, watching through the mirror as she came up behind him, pure curves and creamy skin. She disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, and when she came out, she peered up at him with one eye pinched shut.
“How are you awake so early?”
“Had to pee. And we gotta hit the road.”
She sighed, grabbing for her own tooth brush. “I thought bikers weren’t early birds.”
“Nah, I just can’t sleep most times. Even though last night was the best sleep I’ve had in…I don’t know how long.”
She grinned, her voice muffled through the toothbrushing. “I fucked you that good, huh?”
Bastard coughed as he spit out his toothpaste. “Yeah, Peach, you did.”
“Fucked the insomniac outta ya,” she said before spitting out the paste.
They shared a sweet smile, one that made Bastard feel like they’d known each other for way longer than forty-eight hours. Kit had that about her though. An intimacy she wore like a perfume. He wondered if she was that way with everyone.
“You’re the first who can say that,” he said, and the words made his chest tighten. She sent him a flirty smile before smacking his bare ass cheek, the crack echoing through the room.
“Just to make sure you’re awake,” she said with a giggle, but it turned into a shriek when he launched after her, chasing her across the room.
“You’re the one who needs the wakeup call,” he said, tackling her easily on the bed. He boxed her in with his knees, laughing over top of her.
“Oh yeah? I know what your wakeup call is. All nine inches of it.”
He slid his hands under the hollow of her back, sliding her closer to him. “Act like you don’t like it.”
Her giggle ripped through the room just as the phone rang. He glared at the intrusion, but reached over her to get it.
“H’lo?”
“Sir, this is your wakeup call, at nine a.m. as you requested.”
He stifled a laugh and set the phone down, sending Kit a flat look. “That actually was our wakeup call.”
“Perfect timing,” she cracked.
The two of them packed their things relatively quickly between all the horseplay and laughing. Even though they had checked out by nine thirty, Bastard knew they’d be getting a late start overall once they did breakfast. Anxiety gnawed at him distantly, but he couldn’t focus on it. Not with Kit around.
As they headed for the highway to find a breakfast joint en route, Bastard’s mind wandered over the hum of the bike between his legs. What the fuck had possessed him to take Kit back to L.A. with him? If she’d been anyone else, any other lay, the answer would have been hell no. As a Nomad with the Damned Devils MC, he had business in Olympia. And even though L.A. was one of his sort of-homes on the west coast, this whole trip was business. A strict task with a start and an end date…which he had to show up by, come hell or high water.
Bastard’s saddlebags were stuffed with stacks of hundred-dollar bills, but Kit didn’t know that. She wouldn’t find them if she tried, either. Bastard was too professional to let something like that slip through the cracks. But still, he knew the president would take issue with the fact that he’d invited a stranger to sit on top of ten grand in hundreds, no matter how hot she was.
“There.” Kit raised her arm against the wind to point out a dingy sign on the side of the highway advertising a diner. “Breakfast!”
He maneuvered off the highway, glad at least for the ten or so miles they’d gotten under their belts already. They could still make it in time, as long as he pushed…and she didn’t distract him too much.
“Hell yes, breakfast!” Kit nearly leapt off the bike, shaking her hair out of the helmet with such precision that it made him stop and watch. He stored their helmets and they walked inside, grinning at each other like teenagers.
“What are you gonna eat? Seems like you’re the type of girl who knows exactly what they want beforehand,” Bastard said as they pushed through the tinted glass doors of the diner. Inside, coffee and pancakes reached them, the clinking of mugs and silverware forming a familiar cadence.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said breezily, tossing a smile to the hostess who led them toward a table. “Probably just two waffles with blueberries and extra butter on the side.”
They were led to a booth along the front wall of darkened windows. Overturned mugs awaited them on plain paper place settings. Kit eased into one side, her sultry sex kitten look from the night before replaced with something innocent and excited.
“You must really love waffles,” Bastard said, thumbing through his menu.
“I love breakfast,” she clarified, skimming the laminated pages. “And anyone who doesn’t shouldn’t be trusted.”
Bastard’s lips twitched as he fought a grin. Plenty of times he forgot to eat when he was on the road, or holed up on a gig. “I usually skip it.”
“That’s not good for your health,” Kit tutted.
“I’m doing just fine,” Bastard shot back.
Her gaze traveled over him, lips pursed into a curious smile. “Yeah, I guess you are.”
When the waitress came for their orders, Kit ordered exactly what she’d promised, alongside a black coffee. Bastard asked for sausage and gravy and once their menus were cleared, Kit watched him with a strange light in her eye.
“So you from L.A.? Is that why you’re heading there?” She picked at a straw wrapper as she spoke.
“Yeah. Sorta. I mean, not really, I guess.”
She snorted. “Okay, so which is it?”
“I don’t really have a solid place,” he said, shifting in his seat. He ran his hands over the hem of his cut, as though reminding himself, or maybe her. “I’m a nomad.”
“Yeah, but, you’ve gotta have a home base,” she said.
He shrugged. “Nomads don’t. That’s why we’re called nomads.”
She blinked. “Oh. You mean…it’s a biker thing again.”
“Yeah. A biker thing.” He grinned, rubbing at the scruff on his jaw. “I like a change of scenery. A lot. It suits me.”
Her face fell, as though thinking back on something unpleasant. “Yeah, and I’ve been trying to get a change of scenery for too damn long. Wish it were so easy for me.”
“Well you’re getting it now,” he said.
“Yeah. That’s true.” She looked out the window, her dark hair falling in wisps around her neck. “Shoulda been years ago, though.”
“Never too late,” he offered. “L.A. is a good place to start.”
“Yeah. Maybe I’ll stay there longer.” She smiled softly. “Maybe I’ll just never go back to Olympia.”
He nodded. “There you go. Thinking like a nomad.”
“I never left before because I was working on my career,” she said, her eyes drifting over the tabletop. “I thought if I left, I’d ruin all my progress. But look at the progress: a stalker.”
“Your career will follow you,” Bastard said. “You’re really fucking good.” His words withered in the air between them as her gaze narrowed, like maybe he’d said something wrong. Fucking good was an understatement, but he didn’t have the words to express what her voice made him feel when he listened to her.
“You’re just saying that because we’re fucking now,” she teased.
“I’d have no problem telling you the truth, fucking or not.”
A mischievous look crossed her face. “Okay then. Tell me the truth. Am I the best lay you’ve ever had?”
He struggled to keep his poker face, to not let the shock and amusement show. “Why do you wanna know?”
“Girls like to know these things,” she murmured, leaning back into her seat as the waitress appeared with coffee. Their conversation stilled while she poured them both steaming black mugs. Once she’d departed, Kit lifted a brow. “So?”
“Can’t say yet.” Even though the answer was definitely yes. “Need to try it a few more times.”
She grinned, swatting at his arm. “You’re just trying to get me in bed again.”
“Maybe.”
“Well, it’s working. Pretty sure I know where to find you tonight after a whole day of sitting on the back of your bike.”
Something about her words made warmth trickle through him. He’d never once liked the idea of a girl spending the day on the back of his bike. Never wanted anything that serious, where he’d be responsible for picking up, dropping off, tending mood swings, cooking dinners, or any of the shit that came along with relationships. The R word barely existed in his world. And it would stay that way.
“Great.” He sipped at his coffee. “Sounds like a plan.”
Their breakfast passed quickly between easy conversation and laughter. If this was what all random hitchhikers were like—even though Kit wasn’t technically a hitchhiker—then he’d been missing out over the years. Or maybe all nightclub singers were this fun and easy to talk to.
By the time they hit the road again, it was almost noon. The Oregon day was gray but warm, by all rights a perfect travel day. Bastard swallowed his anxiety and ratcheted up the speed, eager to make up for lost time. But with the warmth of Kit pressed against him, he couldn’t totally focus on his eagerness to get back to L.A.
Really he just wanted to draw out this closeness for a while, the weight of her against him, her sweet fragrance clouding his senses. He never allowed himself to indulge in this way…to spend more than a handful of nights with the same woman, usually drawn out over weeks or months or, one memorable occasion, an on again off again fuck buddy situation that went on for a year until the girl decided to get married to someone else. It had suited him just fine.
But something about Kit begged him for more. Like he knew the taste he’d gotten was already never enough.
Her grip tightened around him as they zoomed down the Pacific Highway. Once the first glimpse of sparkling ocean was visible on the horizon, she squealed. “There it is!”
He grinned as her hands traveled over his chest. After a few moments, one hand drifted down between his legs, resting on the rough crotch of his jeans.
He glanced down, taking stock of who was around them on the highway. It was mostly empty, though occasionally a car or two flew past them in the opposite direction. Her hand stayed there for a moment, and then she pressed her palm flat against him, rubbing right up against his dick.
He gritted his teeth. She seemed like the type of girl who wouldn’t have a problem jacking him off in plain view on a highway. He might need to do some damage control shortly.
She started a furtive rhythm against his jeans, pressing and stroking him through his jeans. She coaxed his cock to life until it pressed hard and eager against the fly of his jeans. He gripped the handlebars extra hard as he drove, focusing on the road.
“You can’t wait until we get to the hotel?” he asked.
“I want you to fuck me on the highway,” she said over the wind. Bastard swerved, pleasure streaking through him as she continued stroking him.
“Give me a minute to pull over.”