Page 566 of The Tempted

Chapter Twenty

The moment Blackie pulled his bike up in front of my mother’s house I immediately felt the loss of him. I never wanted the night to end, fearing I imagined it all…every kiss…every word…every time he grabbed my hair and told me I was his.

He killed the engine, turned off the lights and I knew our time had come to an end. I reluctantly climbed off the bike, wincing from the aches that would remind me tonight was real.

“I thought you said your mother wouldn’t be home?” he asked, angling his head as he looked at her car parked in the driveway. I removed his helmet from my head and handed it to him.

“She isn’t. They probably took a cab to the airport. My step-dad’s company usually sends a car for them when they go away for business,” I replied, watching as he straddled his bike and placed his feet firmly on the ground. Our eyes locked for a moment and he crooked his finger, beckoning me to close the distance between us.

“Why the sad eyes?”

I stepped toward him, welcoming the arm he wrapped around my waist and the fingers that brushed against my cheek, forcing a smile on my face.

“I’m just tired,” I said, adding a wink for good measure, trying to mask my fear of our perfect bubble bursting.

“Sorry, not sorry,” he smirked.

I reached up, swiping my thumb over his lips as a smiled blossomed across my face. “Ah, there it is…a hint of a smile,” I paused, my eyes widening as an idea came to me. “I have the perfect plan,” I enthused, grabbing onto his leather jacket.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked huskily, staring at my mouth as he spoke. “What’s that?”

“Something fun, something you would never think of doing…I will get you to smile Blackie, and when I do, I’m going to keep you smiling,” I promised. “So, here’s what’s going to happen— “He laughed, tightening his arms around my waist.

“I’m so fucked,” he muttered, swiping a hand over his face.

“Shut it!” I demanded, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “As I was saying, tomorrow you’re going to pick me up and we’re going to take a ride down to Coney Island,” my plan died when something flickered in his eyes and the playfulness disappeared. “What? You have something against riding the Cyclone? Big Bad Biker doesn’t get down with rollercoasters?” I teased.

“I’m not going to be around for a few days,” he said, thoughtfully as he looked at me, threading his fingers through my hair.

“Where are you going?”

“North,” he answered vaguely.

“Sounds like fun,” I said quietly looking away.

“Not really. I won’t even be riding my bike,” he ground out. “Got club business to tend to that requires me to drive a fucking cage,” he grunted, placing a finger under my chin and turning my eyes to his. “I’ll be back, Lace and when I come back it’s you I’m coming back for,” he promised. “Take you on whatever ride you want,” he added.

“I’ll be waiting,” I whispered, hiding my vulnerability as I prepared myself for the mental war that surely would take place once his bike peeled away from the curb.

“Good, now give me a kiss, angel,” he demanded, tapping his finger against his cheek as he winked at me.

I leaned into him, pressing my lips briefly against his cheek before moving them to his lips. His moan was all the encouragement I needed, and I continued to kiss him, to love him, hoping wherever he was going, he’d bring the memory of me with him and when he came back it wouldn’t all be a dream.

Blackie continued to kiss me, his hand traveling down my back to my ass where he grabbed one cheek as he pulled away.

“You better get going,” he instructed, untangling his fingers from my hair.

“Yeah,” I agreed, taking a retreating step back. “Be careful,” I whispered as I bit down on my lip trying to keep the question from spilling from my lips but failing miserably.

“What happens now?” I blurted, watching as he narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Where do we go from here? I want to believe you when you say you’ll be back and we’ll pick up right where we left off. I need to believe that,” I stressed, exhaling sharply as I shoved my hands in my back pockets and shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t need you to sit there and promise me a happily ever after but I need to know there’s hope for us. I know my father will be an issue, so will the club, but I also know that I’m willing to stand up for what we have between us. I’m just not sure you are,” I whispered the final sentence.

“Hey,” he started, lacing his fingers through the belt loops of my jeans and tugging me toward him. “Look at me… you trust me?”

I cocked my head to the side and looked at him incredulously.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“Of course I trust you,” I replied.

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