I didn’t think he heard me until he asked, “Why? Isn’t that your name?”
I scratched at my leg. The monsters were waking up. I had to get away from him. Walking over, I took my helmet from his hand, then I walked back to my bike.
“Rose.” His voice was softer. When I looked back at him, his hand was out. “Take a ride with me.”
“Where?” I couldn’t go to the clubhouse. Not yet. Val asked me to make contact with Amber, but I wasn’t ready.
“Just a ride. When we get back, I’ll give you the key.”
I debated my options. Was he lying? Would he take me to the clubhouse, stand me in front of his president, and force me to admit why I was there? Could I trust him? I wanted to. But trust didn’t come easy. Not to someone like me.
“Fine,” I grumbled before staring at his hand. “I know how to get on a bike.”
“Humor me.” He was watching me again. Searching for something, though I didn’t know what. I put my helmet on myhead and when I grabbed his hand, I felt it again. The same streak of electricity I felt at the bakery. I faltered getting on the bike, and he chuckled.
I was thankful for the face mask. I just knew the heat on my face would be evidence of the blush I felt. Cash made me feel things I had never felt before.
I wasn’t a virgin. I’d been having sex since I was sixteen. Val hadn’t been happy with that. She wanted me to wait longer. She said at sixteen, girls didn’t know any better.
When I reminded her she had Amber when she was sixteen, she said,‘my point exactly.’
I guess I could see her point. But the man she was sleeping with was the love of her life. I wasn’t looking for love. I was looking for gratification.
Keep telling yourself that.
He grabbed my knees and pulled me against him. Taking my hands, he wrapped my arms around his waist. And when my fingers played over his abs, he stiffened.
I pulled back, and he pressed his hands against mine, holding them in place. “Hold on, Rosie.”
So I did.
I held on tight.
With my head against his shoulder, I wished I didn’t have my helmet on. I wanted to feel him against my cheek. Wanted to inhale his rich scent.
I wanted him.
And I wanted him to want me.
We rode down the mountain. Cash avoided the branches that stuck out, weaving slightly so they didn’t stick us. The desire to swing my hand out and catch the prickers against my skin was so strong that the monsters stirred again.
The monsters saved me all those years ago. They held back the emotions. The fear, the anger, the desperation. But they had a price. They didn’t do it for free.
That price cost me.
We spent hours on his bike, just riding. When his hand reached for my leg, I froze. I sat up away from his back and I swear I heard him sigh before he pulled his hand away.
Why would he do that?
That meant something. Hell, just being on the back of his bike meant something. But then, not all men who rode felt this seat was sacred. Not even all men in clubs felt that way.
Was Cash one of those men? Did he feel like the seat behind him was reserved for his old lady, or just any willing pussy he could get on his bike?
I knew the moment we headed back. The air around us changed. It felt stale. Thick and choking. Maybe it was just me. I scratched at my leg. I could feel the monsters stirring like tiny little worms under my skin.
“You ok?” he asked.
I looked at my leg and the hand that scratched absently. Was I ok?
