Motorcycle Man

He was silent a moment, eyes holding mine, then he replied, “I’ll give you that play.”

I grinned at him and whispered, “Thanks.”

He grinned back and used his hand at my head to pull my mouth to his.

Once he’d touched my lips lightly to his, he let me back a couple of inches and asked, “Your pu**y get enough or does it need more attention?”

“I think it’s good,” I answered then finished, “for now.”

His eyes danced again. “You’ll tell me, I need to get down to business.”

“I’ll keep you in that loop.”

I watched his eyes dance more before he asked softly, “You wanna clean up or sleep with me inside you?”

I felt my heart flutter at this question. I liked the intimacy of it. I liked the language he used. What I never liked was sleeping after sex without cleaning up. But the way he asked that made me want to keep him with me.

So I answered quietly, “You inside me.”

“Good, baby, now shift under the covers,” he ordered but he was still talking softly.

I liked that too.

Moving with Tack, I shifted under the covers. He twisted to turn the light off on his side of the bed and I rolled to turn the light off on mine. Then he claimed me and settled us exactly as we were before, me tucked to his side, my cheek to his shoulder, arm around his gut and his arm under me, wrapped around, hand resting on my waist.

This, I’d never had. Five lovers, two longish term, none were cuddlers. And I knew Tack was one because he settled us this way, because he’d curled into me the only other time we slept in the same bed and he’d snuggled with me when we slept on my couch.

And I liked this too.

“Thank you for dinner. It was yummy,” I murmured to his chest in the dark and this was no lie. His chops and stuffing rivaled his fajitas. His potatoes were so good, they rivaled his pancakes. And he melted butter to pour on his green beans and sprinkled them with real, crispy bacon bits. The dinner was a triple pork threat. The calories and fat it contained had to be off-the-charts. It was also divine.

“Glad you liked it, darlin’.”

“Is the office going to be a nightmare now that I’ve had two unexpected days off?” I asked.

“Don’t know. Don’t work in the office. But you’ll find out tomorrow.”

This was true.

I kept talking. “Do you cook like that all the time?”

“It’s worth eatin’, it’s worth puttin’ the time in to make it taste good.”

This was true too.

“So is that a yes?”

“No, it isn’t a yes. It’s a, if I cook, I do it right. But a lot of the time I don’t have the time so it’s takeout.”

“Even when you have your kids?”

“Even when I have the kids. Though sometimes Rush or Tabby’ll get a wild hair and try something. Rush has inherited his old man’s talent in the kitchen. Tabby gets workin’ near a stove, it’s a crapshoot.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, finding this both interesting and his telling of it sweet. Then I asked, “What’s that red car you’re working on?” and when I did, Tack burst out laughing.

I lifted my head and looked at him through the dark. “What’s funny?”

“Babe, you goin’ to sleep or we gonna have a conversation in the dark?”

“I thought we were getting to know each other.”

“We are and we did, in a lot of ways, Red. You provin’ you can ride me even harder and faster than that first night we had together bein’ my favorite part. But now I’m wiped. You wanna talk, store that shit up and we’ll do it at my place tomorrow night.”

“You’re wiped?”

I felt his hand land on my face, his palm at my jaw, fingers light on my cheek and he replied, “Two nights ago, I f**ked up and hurt a woman I’d come to care about. I been waiting for this morning, hopin’ you’d roll up to Ride and I wouldn’t have to hunt you down. But if you were really pissed at me in a way I couldn’t fix, this morning could have gone different. Thinkin’ on that and all the other shit swirling in my life, the last two nights I haven’t slept all that great. But I ate good, I just came hard, I’m in your bed, you like me here and you called me honey so I’m thinkin’ tonight’s my night. That is, if you’d shut up and let me sleep.”

“I’ll shut up and let you sleep,” I offered immediately because I liked all of that and I liked it most of all.

And what I liked best of that most of all was knowing that he was worried I wouldn’t forgive him and if I hadn’t come to Ride, he was going to find me.

He wasn’t going to let me go.

I did matter.

“So, you gonna settle in and let me sleep or you gonna stare at me in the dark while I do that?” he asked when I didn’t move and kept staring at him in the dark.

“I’ll settle,” I whispered then did what I told him I’d do.

I was looking at the shadowed planes of his chest, feeling warm and fuzzy and I’d been doing this for a while when Tack muttered, “Every day, somethin’ new. Will I ever get to the heart of you?”

I pulled in a deep breath.

Damn, but I liked that too and the part I liked was it sounded like he both wanted to and didn’t but either way would be fine with him.

“I don’t know. No one has ever tried,” I answered quietly.

“Well, darlin’, gratitude. ‘Cause you just ensured I’ll sleep good knowin’ I’m the first man who gets that shot.”

That made me turn my head, press my face in his skin and deep breathe to control happy tears.

“Fuck me, she really can’t handle sweet,” he muttered to the ceiling.

“So stop doing it,” I suggested.

“Not a chance,” he returned.

God, I hoped not.

I really, really did.

* * * * *

My eyes opened to the early dawn light weakly shining through the curtains and dimly lighting the room.

And what I saw was Tack’s chest and his tats.

We were in the same position we’d fallen asleep in, me tucked tight to his side, cheek cushioned by his shoulder, his arm wrapped around me, mine wrapped around his gut.

We hadn’t moved, either of us, all night.

I liked that. So much my hand slid up his side, over his chest and to his neck where my fingers curled around but my thumb moved out to glide along the stubble next to the edge of his goatee. As I did this, I turned my head to kiss his shoulder. Then, with the tip of my tongue, I trailed a path to his nipple where I let my tongue swirl.