Every turn we round, I hold on tighter. Every negative thought in my head flies out into the night sky. Every bad memory slowly purges from my being. The wind cleanses my soul, as the roar of the motorcycle engine mends every one of my imperfections. When Chrome said going for a ride was freeing, that was a complete understatement.
I could live on the back of this bike for the rest of my life, simply because it gives me the most peace I have ever felt. I crave this freedom. I almost want my own bike, even though I know that’s a completely fucking extreme idea. This is my first time on the back; there is no way I need to be riding my own. I would probably kill myself.
I close my eyes again and enjoy the peace of the ride. The miles of dark road fly by in a blur. Almost an hour has gone by when we pull back into the parking lot of the motel. I have no idea where we went and I don’t really fucking care. The ride served its purpose. The memories of the past are where they belong now. In my past. From here on out, everything is about the future and what I am going to make of my life. This is my fucking life and no one is going to get in the way of me living it anymore.
I climb off the back of Chrome’s motorcycle and slowly regain feeling in my legs and ass. I have been sitting on the small, hard leather backseat for so long that my vagina is seriously fucking numb. I could totally take a good pounding right now and would never feel a thing. Damn, come to think of it, that would kind of suck.
Chrome cuts the engine of the motorcycle and joins me in front of my door. We stare at each other for a long moment, wondering what the next move is. Do I invite him in? Do I say goodnight? Do I say goodbye until next week when he returns from whatever business?
His words break my thoughts.
“So, now what?”
I don’t know the answer. I wish I could see inside his mind, because everything going on inside me is hinging on him. I want to know if he wants me. But then again, that is just way too much like the old Star. Waiting to see what a man wants, instead of going for exactly what I fucking want for once. This is my turn to take control of my life. Go after what I want. Make my own future.
“That ride, it was nice. Exactly what I needed. I feel different. Free.” I pull the bandana off my head, and hold it out to him. His hand reaches out for the blue piece of fabric, stuffing it in his back pocket before taking another step toward me.
“I don’t know what to do or say now. Whatever this is, it’s new to me. But I can tell you, I want you to come back inside my room with me.” I’m brave, but that is as brave as I can get. I leave the choice up to him. I hold my breath while I stand there waiting. I turn to unlock the door.
“Star, I’m sorry about what you saw at the diner. Whatever this is with you, I want it. I don’t want to let you go. I’m gonna fuck up; it’s what I do. But I promise I will try and do better.”
I push it open, and he is right behind me as we step over the threshold. The door slams shut and I am pushed up against the wall once again. The same wall he fucked me up against the first night I laid eyes on him. It seems like an eternity ago, but it’s only been days. My body gravitates toward him, melting against his touch as his lips cover mine. It isn’t a forceful kiss like last time. It is tender and sweet, but still full of passion. His mouth makes love to mine, showing me how much he cares, despite the fact that we are virtually strangers.
He slowly pulls away and runs a fingertip down the length of my face. I try to speak, but he silences me, pressing a single finger against my lips.
“I don’t want to rush this.”
The two times we have been together has been rushed for sure. Almost fully fucking dressed on top of it. I didn’t crave the personal connection of being completely naked with him, exploring every inch of his body, until now. We have turned a page. Crossed an unspoken line in the sand.
I’m scared shitless. My nerves are getting the best of me as I overthink every single aspect of my life. Every time I try to process what is happening between us, I can’t help but throw all caution to the wind. I just want to do this with him. Whatever this is.. If it isn’t the right thing to do, I will only end up fucked once again. But at least it won’t be the first time.
His fingers run through my knotted hair. The wind-whipped tangles catch on his rough hands as he gently smooths my dark locks. It is a simple act, but one of the most intimate connections I have ever shared with another human being. His strong arms scoop me up while he slowly makes his way to the bed, where he tenderly lays me down. He sits at the edge of the bed and begins to unlace his black boots. The silence continues between us and I hate it. It is just too quiet.
“You don’t have to take those off, ya know?”
He lets out a chuckle and turns to face me while he toes off both boots.
“If I want to do this right, I do.”
The lazy smile on his face is enough to bring me to my knees, but I am already flat on my back. I grasp the black hoodie which still clings tightly to my body. I’m still warming up from the chilly night’s ride.
His words finally strike me.
“Do what right?” I don’t think anyone has ever wanted to do anything right with me. I have always been the wrong girl for all the right reasons. The rebellion. The porn star experience. The drugs.
“Make love to you.” His fingers pull at the zipper of my hoodie. I let him undress me. He takes his time with each movement. I want to freak out at his words. Make love? That is a first to me. I fuck. I don’t make love.
I sit up and run my hands down his sculpted chest, still covered by his cut and long sleeved t-shirt. My fingers slip underneath the thin piece of leather, pushing it off his broad shoulders and letting it fall onto the floor. I pull at the hem of his shirt and slide it over his head. We stare at each other for a long moment before he shifts his weight and stands from the bed. As he turns to walk toward the dresser, I see it.
“I’m sorry, Star.” He turns to face me, ashamed, as he pulls the Glock handgun from its secure spot, tucked in the waistband of his jeans at the center of his back. He places it on the dresser and walks back to the bed. He’s wary, as if he expects me to turn him away. I wonder why he’s carrying a gun, but with his club involvement, I leave the subject alone. I don’t want to know, and I will turn a blind eye just to keep him here with me. He has imperfections, but so do I.
He climbs back up the bed, taking the same position he was in, draping over me. My hand cups his chin and I push my body up to meet his lips. It isn’t a rushed kiss; it is perfect. My lips graze his plump lower lip, pulling it between my teeth. My tongue traces his lip and his mouth begins to part, welcoming my tongue as it slips between his perfectly straight teeth. I lazily explore his mouth before pulling away, parting our lips with a series of chaste kisses. Neither of us want to stop. But we do before we end up in a frantic frenzy just like every other time we have ended up in an intimate situation.
My fingers trace down his six-pack abs, fingering the button of his jeans before popping it open and slowly pulling the zipper down. I wrap my fingers in the belt loops of his pants and tug downward. They slide over his ass and bunch up at his knees. He lifts his legs and kicks his pants down his legs until they hit the floor at the end of the bed. He hovers above me, wearing nothing but a pair of red boxer-briefs. His erection strains against the thin fabric separating our bodies.
His weight lifts and he lies down next to me on the bed. His hand rests on the side of my face, pushing my hair away from my eyes and tucking it behind my ear. He just stares, looking at me for minutes, not saying a single word. His eyes scan over every inch of my body, all the way down to my painted toenails. I start to feel self-conscious. Being naked in front of people doesn’t bother me; it was my job for years. But the way he is taking in every inch is getting to me.