Page 79 of Hendrix

Hendrix reached out and grasped my fingers, helping me safely climb on behind him before placing my hands around his waist and sliding a hand across my thigh. His neck twisted, his gaze softening, and he murmured, “Feels right.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“Dreamed of this,” he whispered. “Dreamed of my girl on the back of my bike. You being here like this with me proves you’re my dream come true.”

“Jamie,” I breathed.

“Love that, too,” he murmured. “Every time you call me Jamie, my dick gets hard.” He moved my hand down to his thickening cock. “See?”

“Oh my God,” I wailed, pulling my hands away. “Why do you always have to ruin the moment?”

“Fuck!” he muttered as he turned his head and buried his nose into my hair, breathing deeply. “Every time I catch a hint of your perfume, my cock develops a life of its own.”

I squirmed in my seat at the memory of Hendrix’s beautiful cock and the magical things he could do with it.

“You always did it for me,” he murmured, nuzzling my neck until shivers ran down my spine. “Just the fucking scent of you drives me goddamned crazy.” His mouth caught mine, and he sucked gently on my bottom lip before releasing it and peppering kisses across my jaw. “You made my world so fuckin’ safe,” he whispered. “I could tell you anythin’, and I knew there’d be no judgment. You gave me everything, baby. It was jacked up that I didn’t give you the same back.”

My throat heated, and I stared at the regret in his expression, feeling it burrow deep.

His fingers brushed over my belly. “I had to let you go for you to have this.”

“We could’ve had it together,” I murmured. “But you didn’t want it.”

His face blanked, and he pulled away, turning back to the handlebars and changing the subject. “We’re carrying precious cargo. I’ll take it easy and not go fast. Stick to me like glue, lean in when I do, and hold on tight.”

I shoved the helmet I’d borrowed from Freya over my head and pulled the chinstrap tight, then my hands slid back onto Hendrix’s hard, ridged stomach, and I held on tight, calling out, “Ready.” I smiled into Hendrix’s back, feeling his muscles ripple under my fingertips.

A crackle sounded through my helmet as a laid-back beat began to thump out the opening bars to “Brass in Pocket” by the Pretenders. The music drowned out the growl and popping of the Harley’s engine as Hendrix brought the bike to life.

My fingers squeezed.

He craned his neck and smiled at me before facing forward again and setting off slowly across the parking lot.

The sun's warmth hit my body, and I rested my cheek against Hendrix’s back, the scent of the warm spring air overtaking my senses.

Virginia was a beautiful part of the country, and Hendrix giving it to me from the back of his bike meant something to me.

I knew how much he loved riding. He always said it was in his blood. His dad rode, and they built a bike together when Hendrix was a teenager, so it held beautiful memories for him. One of the first things Hendrix ever said to me was that four wheels move the body, whereas two wheels move the soul, and right then, I could relate.

My mind felt clearer, and all the crap that had seemed so muddy and difficult to wade through suddenly became simpler, like the clouds parted in my mind, letting the sunlight shine with some much-needed clarity.

The last few years hadn’t been easy.

First, losing Hendrix screwed with something inside me. I’d always been relaxed about my place in the world and my purpose, but after he left, I felt as if I had something to prove. I was in my early thirties and had always believed there was plenty of time to meet the man who was meant to be mine and have lots of babies, but after Hendrix, I doubted it would ever happen for me.

Maybe it was the reason I clung to Antoni. When I met him, he seemed perfect, and okay, so he didn’t set the same fireworks off inside me as Hendrix did, but in a way, that was a relief because fireworks were dangerous, at least for me.

Looking back, I think I loved the idea of Toni and the life he represented. That wasn’t to say I didn’t love him because I did but in a different way to Hendrix. I loved the security he offered. I loved that he wanted to be all in and give me what I needed, and I loved that he weaved me into his life instead of treating me like a passing fancy.

It was what I needed at the time, and if he hadn’t changed, I would have stayed married to him forever.

But he did change, or did he? Maybe Toni was always controlling, but he hid it well.

The day he beat me was the day my love for him died. I didn’t hate him; I just felt indifferent. If I hated anybody, it was myself because, once again, I’d chosen wrong, but that time, I’d brought a baby into it.

It was weird because I was sorry Toni had to die, but I wasn’t sorry he was dead. If he’d lived and I had gotten away from him, I would’ve always looked over my shoulder along with my son. The act of killing for me was shocking and not something I would have ever had the strength to do myself, but if it was a choice between living a life of fear or not, then I had no choice but to beat back my moral compass.

My head cleared over the forty-minute ride, and my concentration began to waver onto the lush scenery filled with countryside. We took the 629 up to Alexandria, then headed northwest.

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