Page 12 of That Emerald Vow

“Good evening, Charlie. You look breathtaking.” I gently grab her hand to kiss the top before offering her my arm.

Her mouth momentarily falls open before she can regain her composure. “I know,” she says, winking before continuing, “You don’t look so bad yourself.” She looks me up and down before taking my arm. Our outfits are pretty similar. I’m in my usual—dark jeans, v-neck and signature leather jacket. Only difference is I opted for my boots. There’s a twinge of something in her eyes as she takes me in, which causes me to graze my bottom lip with my teeth. Something about being near her erupts a fire within me that I didn’t know my body was capable of feeling.

Both of us seem to not know what to do with the underlying tension, so we walk towards where I parked. “Oh my God!” Charlie exclaims as she lets go of my arm to take in my sports bike. “I absolutely love this. You just got this a few weeks ago, right?” .

“Yup,” I say, popping the “p.” “How would you know that?” I can see her cheeks turn crimson at the question. “Stalking me now, are we, gem?”

“Well, I have to make sure you’re not a serial killer, you know? I’m sure you stalked me too.” We both pause at her first comment. It’s such a simple phrase that everyone uses when meeting strangers. But in this case, it’s not . . . Iama killer.

“Oh, I definitely stalked your profile before messaging you. Can never be too careful, right?” I joke back, even if it makes my stomach flip nervously.

Her eyes gloss over before she paints on a fake smile and says, “Yup. Never can. Which is why tonight is gonna be great. Some one-night-no-strings-attached sex is all we need.” I recognize thesmile because it’s the one I used all throughout my childhood—the “everything is fine” smile, even though your world is crumbling within you. It makes me wonder who her demons are. A murderous rage fills me at the thought of somebody hurting someone as kind and loyal as her.

“I’m definitely ready for it.” I pull out the extra helmet from the compartment and hand it to her as I say, “I figured we could go downtown and bar-hop until we find our Mister and Miss Perfect-for-Tonight.”

She effortlessly puts on the helmet. “Sounds like a plan,” she says through the open visor.

My chest warms as I look at the adorable yet sexy sight. That warmth goes straight south once her body is perfectly flush against my back. She’s not shy about holding on to me or leaning with me on turns.

How can a ride be both electric and calming all at the same time?

The proximity is doing things tobothmy heads because I’m only human, but it also feels right—safe. She molds perfectly to my back, and it makes me wonder how well she’d feel in other positions.

I struggle with wanting the ride to last forever and also end so I can see her work her charm. Something about this moment feels right—brings a deep-rooted peace. Which is odd because I have never had anyone share a ride with me. Not even in high school when I fixed up my first ever bike. It was a rule that only someone special would get that opportunity. Then I made a new rule after graduation . . . No one special was allowed to ever exist because it would be too dangerous.

I feel Charlie squeeze me as we make one last turn, pulling me out of my thoughts. Tonight is about having a good time. She is safe here with me, and this is nothing more than what it is—two consenting adults trying to help each other get laid. Nothing more and nothing less.

“We’re here,” I say as I turn off the engine.

Charlie hops off first. “That was amazing. I definitely want to trydriving her soon.”

You can hop on me for a drive instead.Woah, that was an intrusive thought.I clearly need to remedy the lack of action I’ve seen in the last few weeks. It was the close proximity and nothing more.Right?

“That can definitely be arranged.” I’m shocked at the words that come out of my mouth. I never let anyone but myself and Adrian ride my baby. It’s probably from the lack of release. We’ve been working overtime with our missions with The Crimson Creed. Another day, another person to help.

We make our way to the bar, deciding to sit there so people know they can approach us, and order beers on tap. “So, Charlie, what exactly is your type?” I ask as I look around the bar, taking in the few potential prospects. There’s a suit who looks like he can potentially be a good pick for her, but he would probably bore her to sleep before they even made it to any action. Then there’s the guy playing pool in the corner with his friend who hasn’t stopped eyeing her . . . but he’s also eyeing every female who walks by. Nothing pisses me off more than a man who doesn’t respect women. I’m all for a good time, not a long time, but I make that clear from the beginning because it should be a mutual decision.

I look back to Charlie, who is also taking in the scene. “Anything goes as long as they can give me an orgasm or two.”

Her bluntness is one of my favorite things about her. I snort before saying, “That’s a low bar to hold them to. Just one or two?”

Charlie raises her right eyebrow at me. “You know, it’s statistically proven that women climax less often during sex? And most of our ‘orgasms’ are faked to stroke the man’s ego.”

“Speaking from experience?” I ask, laughing. There’s a very quick darkness that washes over her face, making my brows furrow with concern. It’s gone as fast as it happened, and she’s smirking at me—making me wonder if I imagined it.

She leans in, her sweet peach scent surrounding me as she places her hand on my chest before saying, “I don’t fake anything. You only get my pleasure if it’s earned.”

My skin singes where her hand is burning through my shirt, and I try to catch my breath. She looks to my eyes, to my lips, down to her hand, and back up. It all happens so painfully slow; the whole bar turns into just white noise. Seems like she’s having trouble catching her own breath as her mouth falls open.

I put my hand over hers, and a small shock erupts through my nerve endings as I lean into her. I’m only a breath away from her face before I say, “I don’t do anything half-assed. If you were mine, you wouldn’t just have as many orgasms as your body could handle, but you’d be begging me for more.”

She exhales as she grazes her bottom lip with her tongue. I want to reach out and bite those perfectly plump, pink lips. But I lean back and pull the hand I’m covering to my lips to kiss it. “But that’s not what we’re here for. Let’s find you someone else, shall we?”

“Good, because I didn’t want to suffer through your attempts,” she fires back at me with a dare in her eyes.

I open my mouth to say something, but the bartender drops another beer in front of her. “This is from the gentlemen playing pool,” he says, nodding in their direction.

Charlie turns to look at them, her back to me. I look up in their direction as well, boring holes into them. There is no way I’m letting her end up with those tools. I know Charlie can handle herself—hell I’ve seen it. But I don’t want her to need to if I can help it. They are all smiles taking Charlie in, who is probably smirking at them. When their eyes meet mine, they quickly think better of it, and I can visibly see their Adam’s apples bob before they direct their focus back to their game.

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