Page 174 of Sir, Yes Sir

“I’ll take one of the introductory positions before I let you pay shit for me,” I growled at her.

She grinned and winked at me.

“There’s that masculine pride that every woman equally loves and hates.”

I rolled my eyes as she yanked on some skinny jeans.

“Alright, I’m ready!” Freya said, rushing past me with a peck on the cheek as she slipped on her sandals.

I followed her out, eyes glued to her ass in those tight jeans.

“So? How do you think tonight will go?” she asked, gathering up her purse.

I shrugged.

“Not sure. If it’s too bad, we’ll just leave. We can’t stop trying unless they make us.”

And when I said ‘they,’ I meant Tom.

“I don’t know, Dad seemed like he was kind of over things when they came the other day. Maybe it’ll be good!”

Wishful thinking, but that was one of the things I loved about her. She was an eternal optimist.

“Alright, then let’s get this show on the road. Firebird or the bike?”

That’s right. Yamin had been in charge of selling off the bike, but instead of finding a buyer, the guy left me a check. Turned out that he’d tried it out after I left and couldn’t give it up. So, I got myself another one a couple days ago when Freya was working.

“Bike!” she yipped. “You haven’t taken me out on it yet!”

“That’s because I didn’t have an extra helmet for you,” I insisted.

Believe me, if I could’ve had her legs wrapped around me and her tits pressed into my back earlier, I would’ve. As it turned out, I’d made a special trip to go pick up a helmet for her earlier in the day after my last failed attempt at finding a decent job.

“And did you get me one?”

Turning, I jammed the closet door open into the front door in front of it to grab out first my helmet, then the bright pink monstrosity that I knew she would love.

She squealed, grabbing it to smash over her head, not putting one sliver of a fuck into caring about helmet hair.

I put on my own, as well as the leather jacket I usually wore when I rode.

“Shit, I’ve got a leather jacket in my closet, BRB.”

Brb? Sometimes the age gap between us really shone. Especially with phrases like brb.

She went jogging off back down the hallway and quickly ran back with her own black leather jacket hugging her shoulders.

“If you want to come out with me a lot, then we’ll need to get you a proper jacket,” I told her, squeezing the leather of her cuff to feel how thick it was.

Not thick enough.

“Oh, right, they put chainmail or something in it, right?” she asked, clicking the helmet under her chin.

I reached up to adjust the straps while answering. “Kevlar, but yeah. Close enough. It’ll protect you way better than this.”

She nodded in agreement.

“Well, my folk’s place isn’t too far. Next time we’ll get something for me to wear. This’ll work for today. Right?”

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