Page 47 of Jingle Belle's Biker

I look at it.

Most of a mouse.

“What the fuck did you do to its head?”

As if in answer, Nomad licks his chops and then sticks out a leg, cleans it and turns, running out.

I think the poor mouse is either a gift or an apology for him trying to carve up my leg with his claws. Or he’s working for the cat mafia, and this is their version of the horsehead in the bed.

I clean up the mouse remains, and then I turn out the lights and lock up. I’ve got one appointment today, but that’s at the Gardens.

Nomad’s sitting on my bike, looking like he’s got nothing better to do.

“You really live up to your name. Just so we’re clear, having a name doesn’t mean you’re mine. I don’t have room in my life for a fucking pet.” The cat stares.

I can’t shake how good Belle felt, how much her rubbing on me was pure pre-sex, the ache in my balls just for her, and how the fucking cat here ruined it.

Or maybe saved the situation. I don’t know.

I adjust myself because Belle makes a man hard. She sets off an ache I’m not sure I quite recognize. It’s the base ache of the need for sex with someone I’m into, but it’s also complex, touching other parts.

The thing is, I can’t decide whether my being here for a short period of time is good or bad.

Fuck. I rub a hand over my face, and Nomad trills a meow. “Hear you there, cat.”

What am I even thinking? Deciding on good or bad? Deciding on making a move or not?

I know these things.

In the past, if I’ve been hesitant, then I know it’s not happening. If I want it, I make it happen.

Club life and being a nomad, a lone wolf, who’s on good terms with other clubs across the board because I don’t take fucking sides, it means if I want pussy, it’s mine.

It’s just the way of things.

More often than not, even without me and Sin being an item, I turn it down. There have been times when we picked up another chick. Sin is fucking hot when going down on a girl while I take Sin’s ass. Or getting deep-throated while another girl uses a strap-on on Sin, or Sin on her.

Shit, I’ve even shared Sin with guys.

Because we like that.

I like sharing.

I like watching.

And I don’t need to fuck to prove anything.

If I want it, it’s mine.

So, what the fuck is the problem?

Belle plays by different rules. We’re from different worlds, but the bottom line’s the same.

She’s into me. She’s on offer whether she realizes that or not. And if I made a big move she’d open like a flower.

Belle isn’t a love and leave girl.

Belle isn’t someone to share.

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