Roxie

Cross visited me every night this week, but it's Friday today and, as far as I'm concerned, it's time I visited his home again. Maybe even stay for the whole weekend. It'll also give me the chance to speak to Lily, who hasn't been in school all week. Whenever I tried to bring it up with Cross he stonewalled me, so I didn't press the point, preferring to enjoy the pleasant homelike companionship we are building.

Like right now. He's making us eggs for breakfast, while I set the table and take care of the toast and coffee. It's just past seven, and I'll have to start getting dressed for work soon, but I won't worry about that yet. This is only the third time we're making breakfast together, yet it feels like we've been doing it for years.

"So, I was thinking I'd come over today," I say as he places the pan in the middle of the table.

"Yeah, maybe," His eyes are still mostly closed as he peers at me, and his voice is coarse, his speech slow. He's not a morning person, I learned that this week too.

"I could drive up right after work," I say ladling some eggs onto his plate before serving myself. "Then we'll have two whole days of me not having to leave for work first thing in the morning."

I smile as I say it and he grins back, leaving me no doubt he likes the idea too.

"But I have to work this weekend," he says. "Though I guess, I can make some time for you in between."

I smile again. "It's a deal then."

"I guess so. You always get what you want, don't you?"

I shrug in an exaggerated way. "I try."

But I don't always succeed. Somewhere deep down, I’m still terrified of getting too close to Cross, getting too enmeshed in his world only to have everything ripped away from me all over again. But that fear is getting less biting, less threatening with every day—and night—I spend with Cross. I want to be a part of his life. A big part. I still haven't told him about my past, but I'll do that this weekend too. And once that's out of the way, I can truly start being a bigger part of his world.

"I guess I better get as much work done today as I can, right?" he ask then starts eating fast.

"That would be great," I answer, because I want him to know it, even though he was probably just joking.

He finishes two plates and most of the toast, while I'm still working on my first.

Then I'm saying goodbye to him in the hall, the cool summer morning breeze licking my bare legs, making goose bumps erupt all over them. Or maybe that's just from the kiss, which neither of us wants to end.

* * *

Cross

I'd prefer to be lying in Roxie's warm bed, her soft curves pressed against me, but instead I'm riding my bike in the early morning cold. It's good she wants to come up to HQ this weekend. Eventually she can stay, and then there won't be anymore of these early morning departures.

Whoa, easy there.

I'm getting way ahead of myself with that train of thought. And way ahead of any place I've ever been with a woman. I'd keep some of them around longer than others, if they intrigued me, or had some other quality, I couldn't get enough of.

But with Roxie it's different. There's no part of her I can get enough of. Not her soft lips, nor her melodic, singsong moans, as I fuck her harder than I think she can take, but she takes it. Nor just talking to her, while we sit eating together, or making breakfast. I simply just can't get enough of looking at her face. She reminds me of my mother, of all people, or more like the woman my mother might have been, if my father hadn't turned her into a submissive, soft spoken shadow of a person by his constant preaching and his strictness.

My mother? Hell, I haven't even thought much about her these last twenty years.

Roxie is nothing like my mother. She's the perfect blend of submissiveness and spirit, and I want her to stay exactly like that, don't want to break her at all. Usually I'd try, just to see if I could, but not Roxie. I also think I'd fail, if I did try. She may be soft and willing, but there's steel underneath all that, an enduring hardness that no one, not even me, can damage.

I call Tank before my thoughts of Roxie get any weirder. Or I'm forced to admit I might be falling in love with her.

Lizard still hasn't graced me with his reply to my proposition, and his week is almost up. I want to get that shit handled this weekend. Maybe even today, before Roxie comes for a visit.

"How are things looking on your end?" I ask Tank as soon as he picks up.

"The same as yesterday, and the day before," he says in a grumpy voice. "We can take this place, no need for you to move a finger. Lizard and his men are complete idiots when it comes to securing what they steal. I can't believe they've made it this far. It'll be easy to get into the warehouse and take it back."

He's been telling me this all week, which explains his grumpiness, but Tank lacks the ability to see more than one step into the future. He makes up for it in other ways, like in being my most efficient go-getter, but planning isn't his forte.

"I believe you," I say patiently. "But attacking them will start a war, and I don't want to start a war. I'll get his answer today, and if he refuses to hand the weapons over, I'll start planning how to make good on my threat. I meant what I told him. If he doesn't give back what he stole, I will take down his entire MC."

"OK, good," Tank says, the grumpiness gone from his voice, replaced by excitement. "I like that plan."

"I'll call you when I have more to tell you," I say and hang up.

I don't call Lizard until I'm back at HQ, sitting on the leather sofa in my office, drinking my second cup of coffee and wishing this shit hadn't come so close to a war. If it does come to it, I'll end Lizard's MC quickly, but a job like that is always messy business, and lots can go wrong, including suffering casualties.

Fucking Fuse and his temper. I only give him jobs I'm certain he can't fuck up, but I was wrong to do even that much. It's only simple shit for him from now on, and somewhere close, where I can keep an eye on him.

Lizard doesn't pick up right away, lets me listen to the annoying ringtone for a good while, which just sets my temper flaring.

"Cross," he says in an exaggeratedly surprised tone when he finally picks up. "I wasn't expecting your call."

"But I've been waiting for yours all week," I say. "Have you made your decision?"

"I believe you gave me until Sunday to decide," he says in that slimy way of talking he has. He sounds like the sleaziest car salesman of the worst kind.

"I'd hoped you'd be able to make the right choice long before that," I counter. "Because you really only have one sensible one."

"You don't want a war any more than I do," Lizard says, exhibiting a sharpness I didn't think he was capable of. "You have this whole new venture to set up, and I want some peace in my old age. I'm in the area, so I'll ride up to yours on Sunday afternoon. Then we can have a civilized sit-down to discuss our future."

I have half a mind to call Tank and tell him to take the warehouse today, but for the sake of peace, I better hear Lizard out. I hate the fact that he's put me in this position. Two years ago, before Lily came to live with me, this matter would be settled by now. But things are as they are.

"Alright, Lizard, I’ll see you on Sunday," I say and hang up before I have to listen to any more of his sleazy smugness.

It's good that he's coming here, since it saves me a trip. And if he doesn't see things my way on Sunday, I might just end our sit-down by slitting his throat.