Page 21 of Losing a Piece of Me

I navigate through the country club parking lot’s selection of fancy cars until I come across Lex’s Prius in the back, away from all the other vehicles, and park my bike next to it.

I kill the engine and slowly make my way inside, where I hang out in the back, out of sight while I assess the situation. This idea could be a disaster if her parents notice me. Not to mention, my grease-stained jeans and t-shirt don’t necessarily fit in with the elegantly-dressed attendees.

My eyes scan every face in the room until, finally, I see her. She is standing casually at the bar, clearly uninterested in the event, while some not-so-secret admirer drools all over her.

First, I check him out. No doubt, he’s just another rich bastard that her mother dumped on her, dressed classily in an expensive black suit with thick, dark hair parted on the side and slicked back. His eyes scan down her whole body and he licks his lips.

Meanwhile, Lex seems to be even less interested in him than she is in the party. Her eyes are glossed over with boredom, and they roll dramatically whenever his mouth opens to talk. While he tries his hardest to hit on her, she aimlessly stirs her drink, never breaking eye contact with the exit sign on the opposite wall.

I stand a little taller, chest slightly puffed out, and casually walk to her side. Her eyes widen, not knowing what I’m about to do.

“Are you ready? I got your text an hour ago, I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.” I lean in and press a quick kiss to her lips. She doesn’t shy away, instead, she grabs ahold of my shirt and pulls me back in.

When she pulls away, she looks into my eyes and says, “Thank you.”

I take her hand, flashing a smug grin at the douche that was talking to her.

“It was nice meeting you, James. Thank you for the drink and maybe we will see each other again.”

He nods her a polite farewell but shoots me a dirty look, to which I reply with another sly smile.

Hand in hand, we cross the grand room and escape back out to the parking lot.

“Thank you for that. Even after all these years, she still doesn’t get it.” She shakes her head as we approach my bike.

I lean against it and observe her. She’s swaying back and forth on her feet, she must be nervous and wanting to get away from me.

When she finally looks at me, I give her my most enticing grin and motion with my head toward the road. “Let’s go for a ride.”

A smile spreads across her face. “What?”

I straddle the bike and lift the kickstand. “Come on, Lex. For old time’s sake.” She’s hooked, she can’t resist it, but I throw another grin her way for good measure.

She wants to go. Despite the fortress walls she has built around herself, I can see in her eyes how badly she wants to say yes, to tear down the pavement with me with the wind in her hair. “I don’t know, Striker.”

I reach out my hand. “Shut up and get on.”

She pauses, and I catch a glimpse of something flashing in her eyes, but after a moment she takes my hand and gets on the bike. I kick the bike to life and rev up the engine a few times before speeding out of the parking lot.

Her arms wrap around me and her hands rest on my lap, just a few millimeters from finding out just how excited I really am. She squeezes me tightly between her thighs, a little trick I filled her in on long ago for holding on while riding. Knowing her sexy-as-hell legs are around my hips only makes me harder.

I push everything down, everything I’m feeling. It’s time to start figuring out how to get her to open up for me. This bike ride is the first step, I am sure of it.

* * *

We spend hours on the bike with the vibration between our legs. My hands are damn near numb from it, and once I can no longer feel my fingertips, I pull into a deserted parking lot so we can climb off to stretch our legs.

I light a cigarette for myself and she motions for it, so I hand it to her and light another. “Still smoking?”

“Only in stressful situations. What about you? I thought you were going to quit?”

“I did. I just keep an emergency pack in my sidesaddle.” I shrug. “You know, for stressful situations.”

A smirk pulls at her lips but she doesn’t say anything, instead taking a long drag from her cigarette. The cherry glows bright in the darkness and its faint orange-red glow lights up her face.

“So how did you get trapped with that douchebag?”

She scoffs. “My mother, how else?” She begins pacing in front of me, followed unfailingly by my eyes. “I can’t believe I’m back here.”

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