CHAPTER 2
ZIGGY
Of course I know who she is.
She’s one of the most famous women on the freakin’ planet, but clearly, she wants to blend into the crowd tonight. It’s almost adorable. Her big floppy hat and sunglasses, on a night like tonight, when it’s pouring outside and none of us have seen the sun in weeks. But there she is, looking like she’s sitting on a beach in Maui or something. The only thing missing is the sunshine and bikini, but lucky for me the baggy button down shirt and tight jeans she’s wearing suck at hiding those famous curves.
Maybe she thinks we don’t recognize her, but we’re all just being polite. Well, except for that one asshole. That’s what we do in the Pacific Northwest. We’re too cool to make a fuss about famous people. When I saw she needed help, I wasn’t about to turn away and pretend nothing was going wrong. That’s also what we do. When we see someone in need, we step up.
Of course, kissing her took things a little too far. But I don’t care — I’ll admit it. I knew I could have handled things a little differently, but once I saw that I was being blessed with the opportunity of getting away with laying a big one on the most famous pair of lips in America, I took that opportunity and I ran with it. I ran hard.
Leading with my tongue.
I know, I know. Too much. I’m an asshole. But I apologized!
And, by the looks of how fast she sat that pretty little ass back on that barstool when I flashed her my secret weapon smile, she didn’t mind the kiss too much. I could tell by the way she bit her bottom lip when she looked over at me, too.
Damn, she was hot. Hotter than any time I’d seen her on TV. In real life, in 3-D, she’s all curves and contours, with a moon shape derriere that almost makes me swoon. And I’m a big, tough dude. I don’t fucking swoon.
But damn, that ass is enough to make me fall to my knees and it’s a damned good thing she’s sitting on it, because all I really want to do right now is to grab a handful or two of it and hold on for dear life while I —
“—So, Ziggy, are you from around here?”
“Me?” I ask, blinking back to reality. “Oh, no, I live on the Oregon coast, with a bunch of my buddies.”
“So what brings you to Seattle?”
“I just came up to visit my sister and her kids. I’ve got a five year-old niece and a three year-old nephew.” I wasn’t lying. I did visit, briefly. But then I met up with an old lover who’s a flight attendant and we locked ourselves away in a hotel room for the weekend, partying and fucking till we wore ourselves out and she had to fly back to Miami. Of course, little Miss Incognito doesn’t need to know that. I’d stayed for the rest of the week just to take in the sights and was planning on going back to Tillamook tomorrow. “I’m heading home tomorrow.”
“I’m leaving tomorrow, too,” she said.
I nod, knowing not to ask too many questions. Why force her to lie?
“Would you take me on a ride?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.
“A ride? On my bike? Seriously?” I ask, suddenly trying to remember exactly how much my insurance policy was worth. Whatever it is, she’s most definitely worth more.
“Sure, why not? Do you have something more important to do?” She flashes that smile over at me, her eyes full of innocent hope. I looked around the room, wondering where her bodyguards were. Surely, they didn’t just let her wander around by herself, I thought. But there she is. Superstar in the flesh.
Just a girl in a bar…
“Okay, what the hell,” I shrug. I take another quick swig of my coffee and say a quick prayer of gratitude that I’d only had that one beer tonight. At least I had partial sobriety going for me. Which is more than I can say for her, considering the little stumble she did on the way out of the bar. She grabbed my arm, holding on like she belonged there.
I ignore the swelling in my cock and lead her to my bike.
“Stand there,” I tell her. She sways in her boots, a small giggle escaping her perfect lips as I pull off her floppy hat and slide my helmet over her head. “It might be a little big.”
She reaches up and adjusts it, smiling at me through the visor. I open it up, and peer inside.
“Feel okay?” I ask.
“Yes,” she nods. I hand her hat back to her and jump on the bike. “Hop on.”
With a delighted smile, she swings her leg over the seat and plops down behind me. Her chest presses against my back, her nipples rubbing up against my cut. I try not to smile, but it’s useless. Thankfully, she can’t see how much I’m enjoying this unexpected encounter.
“What about you? Where’s your helmet?” she asks.
“It’s on your head.”
“But isn’t that illegal?” she cries.
I laugh and shake my head. She’s adorable. “I don’t care.”
“It’s raining,” she protests again.
“I don’t care about that, either. Look, do you wanna go for a ride or not?”
“I do,” she nods, wrapping her arms around my waist, the heat of her body warming my back. “Let’s go!”
I rev the engine and pull away from the curb and into the dark and rainy city, the lights of the Seattle skyline sparkling on the surface of the Puget Sound like a rippling kaleidoscope.