Who ended it?
Is Ford still hung up on the guy?
Will working around him stir up old feelings?
Why does the thought of that put me on edge?
“You think things are civil between them?” I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.
“I don’t think so.” He shakes his head. “Trent’s a sensitive subject, so I try not to dig too much.”
Well, that’s unhelpful.
“What do you think of him?”
“I think he’s all ego and nice hair.” Remi huffs out a laugh. “I’ve only had to work with the guy a handful of times, but it’s clear from the very first hello that he thinks his shit don’t stink.”
I try to picture Ford with a man like that, but I can’t see it. Ford’s all grump; he needs somebody to lighten him up. Surely, an egomaniac can’t do that.
Maybe that’s why they’re getting a divorce.
“Who ended things?” I ask, my knee bouncing a mile a minute under the table.
“Damn, Hol.” Remi chuckles. “What’s with the twenty questions tonight?”
I force a laugh and shrug before the conversation veers in another direction.
Whatiswith all my curiosity, though? Yeah, I’m into hooking up with Ford, but so what? Where’s this sudden need to know the guy's whole backstory? I don’t need to know somebody on a deep, personal level to fuck them, but withFord… For whatever reason, I find myself wanting to get to know him. It’s just like the other night at his place after he fucked me; I wasn’t in a hurry to leave.
I wanted to be around him.
It’s different… And confusing.
But that doesn’t stop me from pulling out my phone and finding our text thread as soon as we pay our tab and walk out of the bar.
Me: Free your afternoon tomorrow, Cap. We’re gonna have some fun.
Daddy Ford: Meaning you want to have sex?
I chuckle to myself.
Me: I’m good for more fun than just sex, thank you very much.
Maybe getting him out—getting himrelaxed—will let me dig around and find out some of the answers to my questions.
Purely for nosy reasons, of course.
Eighteen
Ford
Ididn’t know what to expect when Hollis texted me last night, but sitting on the back of his Harley as we ride…somewhere certainly wasn’t it. It’s later in the evening, the breeze warm as it whips past us. This isn’t my first time on a motorcycle—I rode one of my buddy’s years ago when I first joined the force—but it is my first time riding on the back of one, and it’s beenyearssince I’ve done anything like this. I didn’t anticipate how stiff my legs are going to feel once we finally make it to where we’re going.
My hands are resting on top of my thighs, but as he takes a sharp corner, I bring them to his hips to steady myself. Even through the leather and his clothes, the touch is electric, and it has my heart pounding harder. I’ve made it a point to keep things friendly during this ride. Sure, we’re sitting in close proximity, and we have to, given what we’re on, but that doesn’t mean I need to be plastered to his back… Even if keeping my hands to myself has proven to be more than a little challenging. Despite the breeze surrounding us, my body is on fire, all too aware of Hollis’s every move.
Filthy thoughts flit through my mind before I can help it… Me sliding my hands along the top ofhisthighs, feeling the muscle tense beneath my touch. Scooting closer until our bodies are flush, so he can see how turned on I am being near him like this. I’d palm his cock next; see if he’s turned on too, then bring my other hand around his throat. Feel his pulse race against my fingers as I rubbed him over his jeans.
I don’t even realize how tight I’m gripping his hips until Hollis turns his head and says, “You good, Cap?” His voice is muffled beneath the helmet, and the organ in my chest thumps against my ribs, like he can somehow sense what’s on my mind.
