Page 65 of The Hangman's Rope
“You take care of my baby,” her mother said, giving me a stern look, and I nodded. What else was I going to do?
I went to Lore and hugged her tight as her mother descended the steps and went out of sight and I felt some of the pressure ease off me.
“Iron lady, your mom,” I mentioned and Lorelai gave a broken little laugh. I looked past her at the things she had laid out on the bed.
“Still have all the clothes that were bought for you, so don’t worry too much about that,” I reminded her.
She looked up at me and nodded.
“Okay,” she said softly and I let her go to resume her packing.
I went and sat on the bed, picking up the well-loved and floppy stuffed bunny she had up by her pillows. She paused in her packing and looked a little sad and a little nervous at my handling of him. I put him in the top of her bag and stuffed him in and she glowed with a smile that bespoke gratitude. Likely at me not only not making fun of her about it, but encouraging her to keep the comfort object with her.
I smiled at her and reached up and tweaked her nose slightly and she chuckled and finished putting things together – someof them clearly more sentimental objects like the stuffed bunny, and others just… I don’t know why, but I could tell she weighed her options carefully and she only took what the bag could hold. Granted, it looked stuffed full to bursting and it was a bit weighty when I hefted it off the bed to carry it for her, but that was alright. She wanted it, she would have to manage, and I would help any way that I could.
When we slipped out the front door to her parent’s McMansion, she quailed at the sight of the bike. I had my hand on her lower back, and I gave her a little shove in its direction.
“Gonna have to get used to it, Sweetpea. Riding with me is a non-negotiable.”
“I’ve never ridden,” she said, swallowing hard. “My father would have a coronary.”
I chuckled, and it was admittedly a little darkly.
“I sort of live for that shit. Let’s get you settled and get on the road. I’m pretty sure once you get over the initial fear, you’ll have a blast.”
“I really hope you’re right,” she said softly and her tone was dubious.
I got her into my spare, full face mask helmet I had for a girl that liked being a motorcycle backpack… the faster the better. She’d been a daredevil and thrill seeker on a lot of fronts. Had been a good rope bunny for some of the high-flying shit I’d liked to do – but she also wasn’t for me. For one, she had so much dick up her snatch I couldn’t ever really get on board or comfortable with it, and for two – as powerful as my bike was and as fast as I could push it, I couldn’t push it fast enough or hard enough for her… she preferred the rice rockets and you wouldn’t catch me fuckin’ dead on one of those.
When she’d ‘fessed up to contracting a venereal disease, I’d pretty much lost all patience with her and had cut her off before going and getting tested myself. Luckily, I’d always wrapped itup, no matter how much she’d begged me to raw dog her, and as a result, I’d dodged that particular bullet – but no fuckin’ thank you. I was out, and the only thing I really kept up in my back closet from the relationship was the helmet. I’d paid for it, and the damn things were ridiculously expensive. I didn’t know if I would ever have a use for it again, but here I was and I was hoping it would fit my Sweetpea correctly.
I lucked out on that front. She complained about it being claustrophobic with how it pressed her cheeks and I nodded.
“That’s how you know it fits right, and it’ll protect your head like it’s supposed to,” I told her, making sure the strap under her chin was secure and fit properly.
She blinked those silvery eyes at me through the open portal of her face mask and I smiled and helped her into her bag, laying the strap broad and cross ways across her chest, adjusting the strap so it fit snug and rode a little higher on her back up by her shoulder.
She got on behind me, jumping when I started it up, her grip around my ribs damn near bruising – but that was alright. I wanted her close. I wanted her to hold on tight and mold herself to my back and I fucking loved how she turned her knees in and gripped me with her whole damn body.
I swept around the circular drive smoothly and carefully dipped out and onto the street and the faster we left her parent’s McMansion, the freerIfelt. Like this wet blanket, hot and oppressive was lifted from me and I could get a full breath – which ifIfelt that way after only about forty-five minutes to an hour, I could only imagine how my little Sweetpea suffocated.
I rolled up to a stop light and put my hand over hers where they held onto me and she cuddled closer to my back.
Fuck, she had no idea the things that did to my dick. I unashamedly and unabashedly reached down the front of my jeans and adjusted myself, my cock stiff and at attention; alreadyweeping precum at the tip, begging to be inside her – but I wouldn’t go there. Not unless she wanted to. Not unless she made the first move. I wasn’t about to compound any of her trauma and there was that nagging doubt in the back of my brain that even ifshewere the one to initiate… would it be the right thing?
I thought about it, long and hard as we carefully swept through the close and crowded historical streets that were never intended for cars, but rather horse and buggy. I was taking the long way to the freeway. Getting her used to making turns and seeing if there was anything I would need to stop and let her know to do or not to do – but so far, she was a natural. A little stiff behind me, but she leaned with the turns and didn’t move around too much or throw me off in any way.
That was good, that was really good.
By the time we hit the freeway, and I turned for the ramp, she had just begun to relax; but when she saw the red, white, and mostly blue sign for the interstate, she stiffened right up, hugged onto me close, and as I caned it, twisting down on the throttle, the wind whipping past us and drowning out the world I could have sworn under the roar of it, and just over the guttural thrum of the bike’s motor I heard her yelp. This sharp, little, adorable cry as she held onto me even tighter than she’d first got on and we swept up the lane and headed for home.
As far as first rides went, this was going to be a long one for her.
Chapter Eighteen
Lorelai…
The relief I felt as we rolled up the street, slowing to sweep into the driveway of the building with the Iron Wraith’s logo painted on the front was something so palpable it very nearly felt like a physical loosening in my chest.
