Chapter Seventeen
Bella
“Let’s walk back,” I say, slipping my hand into his as we exit the restaurant.
Jacket came to the dinner with Stick who left long ago with my sister. I came in my Dad’s car, the very person I’ve worked all evening to shield Jacket from. It’s been a long day and I’m tired.
I take my heels off and Jacket takes them from my hand to carry them for me.
The night is very still and warm, or maybe that’s merely the tension closing in around us. I want him so much, the lining of my skin feels like it’s stretching. The hooks ups we’ve had so far don’t feel real. It’s probably silly to say this but it’s not real sex until he’s inside my body. Buried deep, sawing in and out so every nerve in that secret channel separates and vibrates with pleasure.
Only then is he really mine.
But it’s crazy too because tomorrow is it. One fun day of togetherness and then he’ll be gone. We’ll both be gone. Me back to LA, him to – wherever.
“I don’t even know where you live,” I say quietly.
I’m loathe to bust into the moment of walking along after a party, hand in hand with a perfect man, Secure in the knowledge I'm soon going to be in bed with him. His body covering mine and that first time, the first time someone new slides inside you, piercing your intimacy, taking you as his.
“Nowhere permanent,” he murmurs.
It seems he doesn't feel like talking, but his hand tightens slightly around mine. He squeezes enough to let me know he’s right here with me. We’re here together as one.
But his response plays in my head.
What does that mean?
That where he’s living isn't a permanent base, somewhere he can move on from at any moment. Or that he is actually homeless?
“You live on the back of a Harley?” I joke, lightly. Softly.
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
That isn't actually possible but if I probe further that will be – pushing in too deep.
“Actually I need to retrieve her, do you mind a quick detour then I’ll take you home on my charger.”
I’m about to say I've never been on the back of a bike, even though that sounds silly. But his phone makes a racket and he reaches for it.
“You’re checking your FaceBook?”
I can’t believe he’d disengage from me for that. I thought he didn’t even do the networking shit. Maybe I’m not seeing the real man here. Maybe he’s got thousands of ‘friends’ to keep connected to. That sense of disgruntlement you get when you feel let down in disappointment wraps around me and I can’t stop myself from pouting.
He’s now too busy typing with one finger on the keyboard – yeah a keyboard not a touch screen – the kind I see for cheap at the swap meets I go to on weekends.
We walk on a few blocks as he continues talking to someone online and I continue to get steamed up. I don't have the right to tell him to stop. He’s not my man, just some rando guy in town for the weekend.
“Okay, I’m back,” he grins way too large.
I’m sure he’s been talking to some girl, probably the next hookup in the next town he’s heading for. We’ve arrived outside the inn and he throws one huge but lithe leg across the leather saddle and hangs my strappy sandals from the handlebar.
“Jump on.”
I stand there trying to decide whether I should walk, which I know would be ridiculous but I hate how much this is hurting me. I have so little time to be with him and I want all his attention every moment. I can’t help it.
He strokes his thumb across my protruding lip and starts the engine. I have no choice but to climb on behind him and as soon as my foot leaves the sidewalk, he takes off. The machine is terrifyingly powerful and I cling to his torso, feeling the muscles flex as he maneuvers the machine around corners and bends. On the final stretch leading to the house, he reaches a hand back to rest on my thigh and tremors run all along its length.
I climb off and he follows, remembering my sandals. Then he takes me by the hand. Once inside the house, I climb the ladder to the attic first, certain he’s getting a good view of my legs and more. I head straight to the bathroom and lock the door before he mounts the ladder behind me.
I sink down on the john, trying to get control of myself. I’m not a bratty type of woman. I don’t want to be that girl that throws sulky tantrums. But it’s hard when you want something you can’t have. So maybe it’s better not to have it at all. I pull my dress off and put it in to soak, when I notice a stain on the bottom.
Damn.
Too late I realize my robe is outside on the bed. The only towel left in here is hand-size. I have to go out there in my underwear.
“Are you sulking, Baby?” he asks when I emerge.
I shake my head no.
“Good. Because I know if something was bothering you, you’d be the type of girl that would talk about it.”
“I didn’t know you had so many friends you needed to be in touch with,” I snip.
“I don’t. Actually I had none at all until today.”
“Hmmph.” Evasive as ever.
“The guys from the unit are my friends – were – always will be but we don't get together. I guess we all feel that if we meet up, the load might be too much to bear.”
I listen carefully, feeling him open up to me, feeling the taut emotion inside him.
I pull back the sheet, feeling his eyes heating up my skin as they travel over my body. He’s seen me in underwear but it never seems to get old for him. His eyes hood with intense lust and transmit their hunger to me, despite my will. That all rushes out of me as pressure builds up. The urgent need to have him rocking inside me, rubbing every inch of my pulsating pussy. If he wants me, he can come to me. I know I won’t be able to refuse but I'm going to make a good college try.
“Come here,” his voice grits out an order.
Like iron filings dragged to an industrial magnet I leave go of the sheet and walk slowly across the room to stand in front of him. He’s leaning back on the loveseat, his long legs filling the available space. I stand in front of his knees, looking down at him with what I hope looks like strength and not petulance.
He doesn't move a muscle. His eyes hold me transfixed then he barks another gruff order.
“Take them off.”
His gaze darts down to my soaked underwear then back up to grab my stare again as an array of sparkles flies through my veins.
I tilt my hips back and clench my pelvic muscles in an attempt to dampen the clenching shivers that force through my pussy. But nothing will hold back the quivering lust that lands at the very edge of me.
“I said take them off.” He orders in a husky tone.
“You can’t boss me around,” I mewl.
Something tells me he doesn't care whether I allow it or not, he will always be the boss.
“You don’t want to make me tell you again,” he growls very low, almost feral in its rawness.
Despite my resistance, my eyes stretch wide, held captive and captivated. I've never done this. I've never had a man order me around like this and I’ve never stripped off naked right in front of a fully clothed one. Every man I’ve been with takes me under the covers, usually with the lights off.
This feels dangerous and dirty and delicious.
If I was in the slightest doubt about his desire for me back there when we were walking, I definitely have his full attention now. It’s making all the colored sparkles explode through me. I just can’t refuse. Every pore is clawing at me to open myself wide to his desire for me.
A tiny flare of heat rises to my cheeks as I wantonly hook my fingers into the satin bands over my hip bones and push them down over the curves. As I bend slowly forward, Jacket’s eyes release mine to travel down to my breasts, spilling over the lace half cup. I see he wants to loiter there but is drawn by my moving hands. The white lace like a red flag to a bull, his gaze travels over my tummy to my bared pussy.
I notice a jolt go through his muscles and the bulge in his jeans forces at the fabric. I step each foot out of my panties and rise up to standing. Then I realize I’ve sucked my entire lower lip inside my mouth. Definitely not pouting now.
Jacket looks at my glistening slit through a half lidded gaze, his lips parted, his chest going up and down hard and fast. He holds out his palm and extends it to me with the silent demand that I drop my panties there.
I do as he says. He takes them in his fist and issues another order with only a tilt of his forehead toward my one remaining item of coverage.
Like the brazen woman I suddenly become under his ravenous stare, I hold his eyes as I reach behind and unhook.
The taut elastic comes free and I press my upper arms into my flesh for the last brief moment of coverage. Jacket lifts my panties to his lips and inhales long and deep, his eyes fluttering closed for a second. Then I drop my bra to the ground and his attention is all mine.
My skin is iridescent with quivering as I stand in front of him completely naked. My breasts feel huge with the hungry pressure of needing his hands mangling them. My pounding heart makes them shiver with every beat.
He looks at my body, drinking me up. Then he swallows down hard and grits out another command;
“Fuck me.”