ABBIE
The weekend couldn't come soon enough. I trudged through the rest of the work week, but was eagerly anticipating the weekend. I couldn't wait. To distract myself – and hopefully pass some of the time – I set about making plans for the two of us. My apartment had thin walls and, well, I didn't want my neighbors complaining about me being too noisy. Considering the fact that I was the President of the Apartment Association, I knew that would look bad and I had a certain dignity to maintain. It was a dignity I didn't think I could maintain with me screaming and cutting loose with a string of dirty talking. If we were going to stay at my place, we were going to have to behave ourselves – and I didn't want to have to behave myself with King.
Sure, there was always his place – but inviting myself over to stay the weekend at his place felt weird. It felt like maybe I was being too clingy, too needy. And I didn't want to scare him off or make him feel like he was being suffocated and smothered. He didn't invite me, so I wasn't about to invite myself.
So, with both of our places more or less out of the running, it pretty much only left us with one viable option. I booked us a hotel room. Just the two of us. A private room in a posh little B&B along the Oregon coast. It was a little pricey, but it was worth it. If anybody needed a little getaway, it was this girl right here. Maybe it wasn't far, but it was far enough, and I knew it would be nice. Not only would it be nice and in a romantic setting, but I had all kinds of fun things in store for us.
On Friday, I sent King a message with the address.
Meet me here tonight? 7 pm?
He responded right away with a Yes, ma'am.
I was giddy. I couldn't help it, but I was. King and I hadn't spoken since the night I showed up at the workshop – he'd been too busy all week. But my mind had been completely wrapped up in him and I couldn't stop thinking about him and that night. It had been incredible. Erotic. Everything I'd hoped it would be when I made the decision to pop in on him – and then some. My head was filled with thoughts about that night – and every other time we'd been together – and I could feel that fire smoldering between my thighs. I was a little bit worried that I was going to have to run home for a new pair of panties at lunch. Even though he wasn't there with me, King was a distraction and made it hard to work.
In the back of my mind, I knew he was still the leader of a motorcycle club and they sometimes did bad, dangerous things. It was probably unwise, but I tried to ignore it and not to think about it. But no matter how hard I tried to ignore the elephant in the room – or at least, the elephant stomping around in my head – something would happen to make me remember that King was a the head of a club that did bad things. Sure, at the moment I was happy; I flitted through life and my affair with King pretending as if that part of his life didn't exist. As if it were somebody else's life. But it was hard to ignore the fact that some of his club's…enterprises kept him extremely busy. And when I couldn't reach him, in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but wonder if he was out there doing bad, dangerous things – and whether or not he was okay.
I was so lost in thought that the knock on my cubicle wall behind me almost made me jump out of my skin. I was able to stifle the squeal that threatened to pop out of my mouth. I wasn't able to control the racing of my heart though.
“Yes?” I said, clearing my throat and turning around, half expecting to see Jack or Asher.
Instead of one of my co-workers though, there was a strange person holding a bouquet of roses standing in the doorway to my cubicle. My face turned bright red and I felt the heat rushing into my cheeks.
“Abbie McClain?” the man asked, reading from a card.
“That's me,” I said.
He placed the flowers on my desk and gave me a smile. “Looks like someone has an admirer.”
I looked at them and felt my mouth fall open. King wasn't the type to send flowers, was he? Nah, couldn't be. Romantic gestures like sending flowers didn't quite seem like his style. But if not King, then who?
As the delivery boy left, I quickly looked at the card, with my name clearly written on it. It hadn't been a mistake. The card inside was written in beautiful, flowing, cursive writing.
Looking forward to tonight - King.
My heart skipped a beat. No way. No flipping way. King sent me roses? At work? I sniffed one of the buds and smiled, inhaling the aroma, my mind already picturing what we were going to do in the hotel room. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jack watching me. He didn't look happy, but he also left me alone. Ever since his run in with King, there had been no more threats, no implied risk of losing my job if I didn't sleep with him, and, best of all as far as I knew, I was still in line for the promotion.
Seeing the look of anger mixed with fear on Jack’s face, though – it was worth a million dollars. If not more. Jack was quite obviously well beyond peeved. He probably knew who sent the roses to me, or if he didn't know for sure, he probably had an idea. It was just another stick in the eye for him and another reminder not to fuck with me. My boyfriend was badass.
Wait, no – I didn't mean to call him my boyfriend. Did I? Even just saying that word in my head, it caused me to blush and feel awkward. It made me feel like a giddy schoolgirl all over again. To think of him that way – as my boyfriend – was ridiculous. It was scary. But it was also – something else. I mean, just because we'd been sleeping together didn't mean we were dating, right? Even if I did book us a romantic weekend way. Even if he did send me flowers. It didn't mean we were dating, or a couple – did it?
Pushing the thought from my head – something that proved as difficult as wiping the smile from my face – I sent King a message.
Thank you <3
My cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and it was hard to work with the flowers sitting there. My mind kept wandering back to him.
My phone buzzed a moment later with King's response, and I didn't think it was possible, but I smiled even wider than before.
I thought you deserved a surprise today, beautiful.
Just a few more hours and I'd see him again. I couldn't wait.
***
I picked up a sexy, but adorable, little dress just for my night with King. Something short, that hugged my curves, but still made me feel beautiful instead of something that made me feel trashy or slutty. Seductive, but not over the top. It was a vintage-inspired dress that fell to just above my knees. Navy blue with little white polka dots that showed just enough cleavage to catch your eye without giving everything away. I thought it was always better to leave a little something to the imagination.
Red lipstick, smoky eye makeup and sexy lingerie underneath my dress completed the look. I had to admit – I looked damn good. I looked elegant, sophisticated and nothing like the girlfriend of a biker gang leader either. King didn't seem to mind that I wasn't into leather miniskirts or crop tops, though. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the fact that I wasn't the biker broad cliché. Maybe King was different. I could hope, right?
The address I gave him was to the restaurant at the hotel. I figured we could have some dinner first, maybe a few drinks and then go upstairs and enjoy our dessert. I felt myself blushing again as I realized that it almost felt like an actual date.
King was already there when I arrived, sitting outside. And my mouth fell open when I saw him since he'd dressed to impress. While he'd never be a fancy dresser or one for suits, I had to give him major props for picking a nice pair of black jeans and a button up shirt. With his long hair pulled back into a ponytail, and being freshly shaved, he almost didn't look like King. And as nice as he looked, I had to admit – I wasn't all that crazy about it.
He let out a low whistle as I walked up, but before he could say anything, I kissed him. I had no idea why I planted one on him like that, but I just felt like it was something I had to do. I thought those pouty, perfect lips were just begging to be kissed, so I gave into my desire. Not that he complained or tried to stop it. Holding my face in his hands, he kissed me as if he hadn't seen me in weeks.
“You look nice,” I said, tugging at the buttons on his shirt.
“I wanted to at least try and fit in. You always look so beautiful, I figured it wouldn't hurt to wear a clean shirt and nicer pants for a change.”
Crinkling up my nose, I laughed. “I kinda like you all dirty.”
Yes, I meant it the way it sounded, and King gave me a flirty half-smile, acknowledging the meaning behind my words. Glancing around the restaurant, he leaned in and whispered, “You know, we could always skip dinner and order room service later – ”
“Tempting,” I said, letting my hands move lower on his chest. “But I'm actually a little hungry and think I need to fuel up before tonight's festivities, if you know what I mean.”
He knew exactly what I'd meant, and judging by the look in his eye, I knew he'd have preferred skipping dinner and moving to dessert. Hell, if I were being honest, I would have, too. But I wanted to move a little bit slower and more deliberately. I didn't want to give him the idea that I was just a booty call. It was hard for us to keep our hands off each other when we were together, and we needed to experience more than just sex. At least, I wanted that from whatever it was between King and me.
I actually wanted to get to know King as a person, as the man behind the sexy body rather than just the incredible lover. He didn't argue, and we were seated on the patio, overlooking the ocean.
“How was your week?” I asked him as we looked over the menu.
I wanted the evening to seem normal, like we were just two regular people out for a romantic, candlelit dinner. I wasn't sure why it was so important to me, but it was. Maybe I wanted to see how he'd respond so I could gauge where we were at relationship-wise. Or if there was even the potential for a relationship. Maybe I wanted to test the waters a bit and see if there could be a future that was greater than just hooking up for us. While the sex was mind-blowingly great, I wanted more than that. And I hoped he did, too.
“Busy as hell,” King said, looking almost terrified as he stared at the menu in front of him. “How about you?”
“Good,” I said with a smile. “But better now that I'm with you.”
King smiled at me, and watching the candlelight sparkle off of his beautiful eyes, which softened his entire face, you could almost forget who – and what – he was. There was no question that King was just a handsome man. Cleaned up and put in nice clothes, I thought he could pass for a stockbroker or businessman. Okay, maybe not, but at least he could pass for a small business owner – sort of like he already was. If you looked at it in the right light and from a distance, anyway.
“That asshole not bothering you at work?” he asked.
“Not after you put him in his place,” I said. “I'm sort of enjoying seeing him squirm whenever I walk into the office. He won't even make eye contact with me anymore. Thanks to you.”
“Good.”
The conversation was stiff and awkward, more so than I imagined it would be. King wasn't talking to me about his life, keeping his responses short and sweet. Instead, he focused on talking about me. A nice tactic to steer the conversation away from him, sure, but I wanted to know him. I wanted him to open up to me. I wanted to believe that maybe he wasn't into some of the awful stuff other motorcycle gangs were into. I wanted to believe that beneath the tattoos and the biker regalia, that he was a good and decent man. I'd seen flashes of it and thought it was in there, but I wanted to see him let it out.
“How's your club?” I asked him, deciding to just go for it. “Getting into trouble?”
King stiffened up and averted his gaze. With a shrug of his shoulders, he responded in a joking manner, “Aren't we always? Hey, at least we aren't keeping you up anymore.”
“True,” I said with a laugh. “But I figure you must be causing trouble for someone else if it's not me.”
He gave me a roguish grin. “Well, you're the only one I want to get into trouble with.”
My laughter trailed off as I looked at him. I could see the worry in his eyes. He was doing his best to hide it, but I could see it.
“Are you okay, King?”
He looked at me and gave me a smile I could see was fake. “Yeah, I'm good,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”
“But I do worry about you,” I replied. “That happens when you care about somebody.”
We shared an awkward look and then laughed. The conversation was halting and not going anywhere near where I wanted it to. I was hoping to crack that hardened shell King kept around himself. I wanted inside. I wanted to know him.
As if he read my mind, he smiled at me. “I'm trying. It's just going to take a little time,” he said and gestured at the restaurant around us. “I'm not really used to all this. And I've never been very good at… relationships.”
I nodded, but felt my pulse quicken. He'd said the word relationship – which meant that he was at least thinking in those terms. It was something that excited me and scared me all at the same time. I stared at him with my mouth hanging open and found that I was having trouble forming a coherent thought, let alone a coherent sentence. I cleared my throat and gathered myself as King looked at me, that roguish half smile on his face.
“I'm a patient woman, King,” I said. “I don't expect you to open up and let me in all at once. I know this is going to take a little time.”
He nodded. “Just know I'm trying.”
I smiled at him and set my menu down. “You know what? I think room service actually sounds pretty damn good.”
King's grin stretched from ear to ear as he set his menu down. “I think so, too.”
We stood up and walked out of the restaurant hand in hand, heading up to our room for a night I knew I wouldn't forget any time soon.