Page 131 of Ink's Devil

“Want you close, babe.” I rest my forehead against hers. “Missed you like fuck. Didn’t expect to see you again…”

“They said you hated me. That you didn’t want to see me. I don’t understand, Ink.”

Four days. Surely not enough time for her to have grieved and moved on? I sigh deeply. If her feelings hadn’t the depth of mine, maybe that had been enough. “I had to cut you loose, babe. Couldn’t have you dragged into it. Couldn’t have had you trying to see me. The cops had to believe there was nothing between us.”

“There wasn’t, was there?”

Again, I exhale. “Oh, babe.” Here, at the roadside, I really don’t know what to say. How can I explain my feelings toward her?

She bites her lip. “I told the cops you were just my fuck buddy.”

She did?That makes me chuckle softly. “I said the same.” Then, I nuzzle the top of her hair with my lips and lower my mouth so it’s against her ear and add, “I lied.”

“Lied?” Her eyes widen once more.

“Yeah. You’re more to me than that.” I stare into her face, but she makes no reciprocal comment. Maybe the tying to my bed idea will have to be deployed.

“How did you get out?”

I don’t answer as my back gets a hefty slap on it, causing me to raise my head and swear.

“Ink, Beth. Save the happy reunion until we’re out of Denver, yeah?” Cad snipes. “I want to get as far away as possible in case Phil’s coming back. Hey, Karl, we’ll meet you at the waypoint.”

“What fuckin’ waypoint?” I ask.

“Weren’t you listening to a fuckin’ word in the truck?”

Pal nudges Cad. “He was thinking about fucking. Saw him adjusting himself.”

His words make me look down. No, I’m not sporting a fucking hard-on. Though with Beth up behind me, I might well be by the time we get to Pueblo.

Beth, my old lady, who’s currently tugging at my sleeve. “I think I should go back with the prospects,” she says. “I’ve never ridden before.”

“Here, have this.” Karl’s walked over and has passed her his thick leather jacket he must have had in the back of the truck. I thank him. As I hold it out, she automatically threads her arms through the sleeves while still protesting.

But the truck’s engine has already started, and I give the dismissive signal that makes Karl pull away.

Opening my saddlebag, I take out a helmet and place it on her head. “You’re coming with me. Sooner we get to Pueblo, sooner we can have that conversation we need to have.” I then extract my spare bandana and show her how to wrap it around her face.

I get on the bike. She huffs, looks at me, then at Cad and Pal who are waiting for us, Pal looking amused, Cad looking impatient. Then, gingerly, she throws her leg over the saddle and climbs up behind me. I swear, as soon as her hands go around my waist, it feels like I’ve really come home.

I’m conscious no one’s ever ridden behind me before. I tug on her hands to pull them around me more securely, then give her the instructions all new riders need. She carefully places her feet on the pegs and looks down at the exhaust I’d warned her about in consternation.

“Here,” I pass her Karl’s gloves he’d also given to me before he left, “put these on. It’s going to get cold.” I wish the weather was warmer for her first ride, but my body should shield her from the worst of the wind which will become biting when we pick up speed. I know I’m being selfish, but I meant it when I vowed not to let her out of my sight. At least not yet.

“Huh,” she huffs in protest. “I should have gone in the truck.” But then her arms tighten around me and she rests her head on my shoulder for a moment, allowing me to feel her warm breath against my neck. I swear she inhales as if reminding herself of my natural scent.

Cad and Pal start their engines, I follow a moment later, taking a few seconds to allow myself to believe she’s really here.

Then I press the start button, kick down into first, let out the clutch and we’re off. At first her arms have a death grip on me, but my new seat has a sissy bar attached and after only a few minutes, her hold starts to relax as she realises there’s no way she can slide off and land on her ass on the road.

Still, when we come to a red light, I throw the question back over my shoulder, “You doing alright?”

“Fine.”

I allow myself to believe, in this instance, when she says fine, she really means it.

As we head out of the city and onto the open road, I’m congratulating myself that I’ve found a natural. She moves with me as though she’s been doing it all her life and this isn’t her first ride. She’s not unbalancing the bike at all, even though I’m also a virgin when it comes to having someone riding behind.

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