Page 35 of Flint

That’s fucking hot, knowing I got a girl so amped for me that she would be up for anything. Even hotter is knowing how wrapped up I am for her too. It’s been a while since I made out with a chick. Hell, I don’t even recall when I kissed one last. I ain’t a dick, but they usually get a cheek kiss after we fuck. I never kiss one who’s sucked my dick. And that’s probably why I don’t kiss. Vamps suck dick. I’m okay with sticking my dick in the same hole as others, but lips are different. Got to draw the line somewhere, and that’s it for me.

I hear the cough but ignore it for as long as I can, just enjoying the woman in my arms who’s probably going to regret this later once she learns who she is. Once she realizes girls like her and guys like me don’t mix. Not because she ain’t hot, but I live in the real world. Smart, hot girls don’t dip their toes in the biker construction worker longer than a weekend trip to tell the grandkids about. I’m probably even taking advantage of her with the no memory thing. But what the fuck do I care what I got to do to keep these soft lips on me and the odd smell of aluminum cans near me?

“Um, Flint?” Another cough, but this time the guy doesn’t bother trying to get me to stop before he speaks what he’s got to say. Doubt whatever the hell he thinks is so damn important really is. “Boss wants to see you about the plans and what you’ve found out so far. And I need to get Julianne back home.”

Well, shit. That’s something I actually need to take care of. Knew this wasn’t going to last forever, but fuck, I don’t want it to end either.

I take my sweet-ass time slowing our kiss for two reasons. One, ’cause, well, I’m a fucking officer, and this is a prospect talking to me. He might be right, but I don’t jump at his commands. And two, ’cause my kitten never even paused, and I know she heard him. Either the idea of others watching is a turn-on for her, or she’s like me and doesn’t give a fuck and just wants to keep doing what feels good. Maybe a bit of both.

With one last peck, I lean back and watch as she tries to follow me, even with her eyes closed. Damn, that makes me smile. I brush her hair behind her ears, noticing she has a few shorter pieces like bangs but pushed to the side. I can’t help myself as I rub the strands as if I’m touching silk ribbon.

“Got to get going, Kitten.” Not sure who I’m telling, myself or her.

“Do I have to?” No pout this time but a general curiosity. It squeezes my heart the way she looks at me. All cute, innocent, and not a care in the world about anything but us right now.

“Yeah. Got to get to work. Prospect’s going to watch out for you while I’m away.”

“I don’t need a babysitter. I can do things on my own. It’s the past that I don’t know. Everything else I got.”

“It’s the past that’s keeping the club involved. Till we know if it was an accident or not, we’re keeping tabs on you for a bit. Club owes you for saving an old lady.” I pull her in close to give her a hug and speak into her ear. “Even if you didn’t fucking mean to do it.”

She pulls back quickly, and I smile wide. Yeah, I saw the surveillance tapes. The car started rolling forward while she wasn’t even watching what was going on. Of course, as soon as she did notice the car moving, she paid attention and actually hit the gas. So it was part luck and part intentional. Got to love how shit works out sometimes.

“Right, well, good luck. And, uh, see you later.” She’s quick to leave, probably thinking I’d rat her out.

Never.

“Bye, Kitten. Be good.”

The smile she gives me lets me know that she and “good” are not on friendly terms.

At least Prospect won’t get bored while I’m away. He just better keep his hands to himself and off my kitten.

Chapter 15 – Julianne

“W

hy are you making me do this again?” I whine.

“For the last time, I ain’t making you. You can say no all on your own. I’m just driving your ass,” Gator says on a heavy sigh.

“You’re not even going to come in with me?” I whine as I look over at the place I’m meant to go into.

“To a place with a bunch of old ladies and women with ties to club members much higher than me? Fuck no. I’m not into the hen clucking, and I wish to keep my balls, thank you very much.”

I press my lips together and turn to look at Gator, hoping my stare-down will change his mind. Doesn’t work. He keeps his eyes on the road, but the smirk lets me know he’s actively not looking my way.

We’ve been riding along in this truck—well, I think it’s his, though I’m not really sure—since he became my solo babysitter. It’s so huge, I need a damn step lift to get in it. I’ve complained so much that he actually had one installed so when I open my passenger door, there’s one that magically appears for me to use. I know he hates it, though. Always complaining about not being on his bike. Of course, when I brought up that he could be, he got all mad at me. Like me driving my own car, which I’m sure I know how to do since it’s all instinct, and I totally ran that guy over, even if I was just mostly course correcting. I still have no idea if I meant to hit the gas or if I forgot and thought it was the brake. Doesn’t matter—I’m owning my badass status that the entire club has now heard about.

And I mean everyone knows. I’ve been to that place more than my own home most days. Not sure if it’s because Gator has to work or he just hates my house, but we end up at it often. Not saying I despise it, but it reminds me of a certain person who I’m really trying hard not to think about.

Kind of hard to do when he sends you off on the best kiss of your life—heck, first kiss ever, for a girl with no memory.

I get plagued by dreams constantly. And they’re mostly nightmares. Dreams of him coming back but not coming back to me. Or not coming back at all. Not sure which is worse: seeing him and not having him or the unknown. Probably doesn’t help that I’ve gotten, like, zero messages from him. And Gator is no help, just “club business this” and “club business that.” I hate it.

He also refuses to take his bike because he has to be with me all the time, according to him. I still think he secretly wants to keep me as his bestie. And if he goes riding, that means I’m on the back of his bike, which apparently is a big deal with him. I tried asking about it, to understand, and he went off on how only a special girl was going to get on the back of his bike, and he ain’t taking one who isn’t his and is claimed by another. Whatever the fuck that means.

So he drives me. All over town. All for his stuff. Apparently he took care of me getting three weeks off work. Not really sure how that happened, but it made sense when he told me. “How you going to do your job if you can’t remember how to do it? Take a few weeks off, see if things come back. If you don’t, you’ll just be lost for three weeks at the job, and when it comes back, you’ll be in the same place you were before: behind. So why stress over it?”

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