Page 39 of Straight to Me

I pinch my lips trying to keep in the fact he’s put those two words together. “But like I told him and how I keep trying to show you, you areonly,my pleasure.”

I relax.

“So, you’ve brought me here to show me, more pleasure?” I say, trying to lighten the mood.

“If that’s what you want.”

I move off the bike, slowly placing my hand in his so he can lead me inside.

Once in the house, he drops his phone and wallet on the table in the lounge. His place is pretty bare, definitely a man’s living space. It’s tidy and very well decorated though, only a pair of running shoes sit out of place by the bottom of the stairs. Moving to the kitchen at the back of the house he asks if I want a drink.

“Tea, if you’re making one?”

“You don’t need anything stronger?” he asks, acknowledging how crazy things are.

“Tea’s fine,” I smile, propping myself up against the kitchen wall and taking my phone out my bag. A message from Jess lets me know Fred got her home safe. I reply letting her know I’m at VP’s house and that she shouldn’t wait up. Instantly, she replies telling me to stay over, and she loves me.

Smiling, I put my phone away as my attention turns to VP being all domesticated. A small laugh leaves my mouth at the sight.

“What’re you laughing at over there?” he says without turning to face me.

“Just watching you, being all, non-outlaw.”

He chuckles half-heartedly. “Don’t stereotype me, bikers can make their own tea you know.”

“Ah don’t stereotype, so that’s why we caught a woman sucking your biker friend’s dick out in the open.”

“No one was there.”

“We were.”

He pauses. “Fair enough. So we like to indulge a little,” he shrugs, getting the milk from the small fridge.

“Do you?” I ask softly.

He places the milk on the side. “No,” he says on a huff of a breath.

I watch as he continues to make the hot drinks in silence, then turns holding his mug, the other hand leaning on the counter. He takes a sip and stares at me with those beautiful eyes. “You think I’m a bad man?”

I see a man who cares, whose soft lips kiss me gently, whose eyes have the power to steal my breath away. I see a tenderness and need for love.

And I see his hard exterior. The clothes he wears, the leather. I remember the way he punched the man in the taxi line, how he threatened to hurt the smiler, how he confessed tokillinga man.

My heart starts pounding all of a sudden. “I don’t know you VP. Not enough to know the answer to that yet.”

At my words, he places his mug down, before striding to me with determination. I brace myself against the doorframe. He picks me up in his arms, smashing his lips against mine. My arms wrap around his neck whilst my legs tighten around his waist.

We’re interrupted by a small knock at the door.

“It’s Lynn,” he says, resting his head against mine.

“Who’s Lynn?”

“She lives next door.” He puts me back on the ground before rearranging his jeans. “She’ll be bringing me food.” I check his face. He isn’t joking. Lynn must be the nosy neighbour I noticed earlier.

“Hiya love,” her voice’s soft and calming. A grandmother’s voice. She’s a short lady, roughly five feet tall. VP towers over her.

Like a gentle giant, he smiles warmly at her. “I made some lasagne; saw you had company which is unlike you. Thought I’d make sure you and your friend didn’t go hungry tonight.”

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