Page 17 of His Road Dog

I do have some sad news. Remember our conversation about Roy? He died. Someone shot him. It was a sad loss of life, and I'm still trying to understand why someone would do such a thing. Violence and taking someone else's life goes against everything I believe, as you know. Even more confusing, Roy was shot in my motel room while I was at work. The police are looking for the bad guy, and I'm hoping whoever killed him gets in trouble.

A nice man is letting me stay with him at his house. I can't go back to the motel room, of course. You should see where he lives. It's absolutely gorgeous here. The man's name is Michael, and more than anything, I feel such peace around him. It's hard to explain because his personality is not peaceful. I don't know. I guess knowing Roy was murdered freaked me out a little, even though I wasn't there when it happened. I feel safe with Michael. Maybe everything happened for a reason. I'm trying to figure out what those reasons could be. Right now, my head is too cloudy to see everything clearly.

I'm still working and have money. There's no need to worry about me. Honest!

Anyway, I wanted to drop you a letter and tell you both that I'm thinking about you. Tell Dad I could talk to you both more often if he bought one of those fancy portable phones that kills your brain cells—what's a few less, anyway? Haha

Anyway, I miss you both. Love, love, love you bunches!

I included a little gift from Montana. Dad — make sure you let Mom try it, too. I think you'll both enjoy how blessed you are to live where you live and do what you do.

In love and light,

Nicole

Priest put the letter down. Nicole gave nothing away. He already knew about Roy, but she never mentioned her level of relationship with the man. Her closeness with her parents was obvious in the note.

In love and light? Sounds like something a hippie would say, which wasn't far from how he thought of Nicole. She was too trusting and free with herself, unlike other women.

She possessed confidence. Most of the women who hung around Tarkio and were ten years older than Nicole hadn't quite grasped how to believe in themselves yet.

He refolded the letter, put it in the new envelope, and stuck a stamp on it. Hiding the original envelope in his pocket to hand over at the clubhouse later, he walked into the hallway and went outside to the mailbox. He'd allow her to contact her parents. With the use of his real name, she'd innocently hidden his identity, and her parents couldn't track him to Tarkio Motorcycle Club.

Going back inside, he went straight to the kitchen and found Nicole standing in front of the stove. He peeked over her shoulder.

"What's that?"

She stirred. "An omelet."

He grunted and walked over to the barstool and waited. Toast popped out of the toaster. He stretched over the counter and plunked both pieces out, pulling the butter container toward him.

Nicole handed him a knife and put in another piece of bread into the toaster. She'd already set out two plates.

He glanced at her ass, wiggling as she stirred the eggs. His hunger had more to do with her being around than a craving for food. It took him a moment to realize she swayed with whatever music was in her head.

She served him the food. "What do you normally drink with your lunch?"

"Nothing." He shoveled a scoop of eggs in his mouth and found lunchmeat, cheese, and onion mixed in.

She joined him on the other side of the counter and sat on the stool beside him. Together, they ate in comfortable silence. He took the time to watch her. She even made eating a sexual treat. Instead of shoveling the food in her mouth, she ate with a softness, taking her time, and gently picked out the onions with her fingers, and piled them on the edge of her plate.

Nighttime couldn't come soon enough.

He reached over and placed his hand on her knee. She leaned toward him, welcoming his touch.

"Real good, Nicole." He caressed her leg, letting his fingers stroke the inside of her thigh.

She brushed his beard free of crumbs with her hand and then cupped his jaw. "Thank you, Michael."

His cock pulsed to attention. With her, it was different. His need to know more about her had nothing to do with his attraction to her, and yet, he found himself wanting her at the house with him to learn things he never paid attention to with other women.

Hell, just her walking across a room, had him watching her every move. She controlled her body like no other. She made it seem effortless and feminine.

He wanted to know what she sounded like when he shoved his cock in her for the first time. He wanted to know how her body responded when he rubbed the wet slit between her legs and found her clit. He wanted to feel her warm body stretching awake in the morning as she slept in the same bed as him.

"You'll sleep in my bedroom tonight." He squeezed her leg. "You can pay me back for letting you stay with me. And, the envelop and stamp."

Her gaze warmed in amusement, and she leaned over and kissed his cheek softly. "No more locking me up?"

"That's not off the table yet." He went back to scooping his omelet onto his last piece of toast. "Be a good girl, and you can stay in my bed and not on the floor in a sleeping bag."

"Okay." She never hesitated. "I like you this way. It's the way you were the night I met you."

He grunted in approval. "Good talk."

Things were back in his control now.

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