I pressed my hands against his chest as I whispered to him. “Please let me go.”
“I don’t want to.”
I was held in this private cocoon of warmth and I sort of melted into him, pressing my forehead against his as I played with one of the buttons on his shirt. Tattoos lined his forearm and my hands instinctively traced them.
The first was a skull with a crown surrounded by black roses, the second was that of the angel of death. “Dark,” I muttered to myself and he smiled.
“That’s right,” he dipped his head, searching for my eyes. He hooked a finger under my chin and lifted my face to his.
“You sure are pretty, aren’t you?”
“I have to go,” I tried getting up, but he held me down.
“I like you right where you are.”
“But I should really go.”
“Why?”
“Because...because-”
“Because I make you nervous.”
I nodded, unable to utter a sound.
“Why do I make you nervous?”
I shrugged, playing with that button again. “Oh, you’re a sweet little girl, aren’t you?”
I looked into his eyes and bit down on my lip. I was a thirty-eight-year-old woman sitting on the lap of a forty-year-old man, loving the way he was calling me his sweet little girl. I wasn’t sure why, but it aroused every cell in my body.
“You like me?”
I nodded. “Yes,” I breathed against his lips. His beard tickled my lips and I smiled running my fingers through it. Loving how soft it was. I’d imagined it between my thigh so many times I lost count.
“That long, huh?”
My eyes met his and I could feel the red in my cheeks heating up.
He smiled. “Let’s do this. How about you let me take you out for a proper dinner, tomorrow night.”
“Oh?”
“Is that a no?”
“Oh, no. I mean...I’d love to.”
He smiled. “Good. Now I’ll be taking you home, Miss Tannenbaum.”
My mouth gaped open as he helped me to my feet. “You know who I am?”
“I make it my business to know those who sit quietly in dark corners and tend to stare at me.”
“You don’t have to say it like that.”
He tilted my head up until my eyes met his. “Believe me, I enjoyed every minute of it.”
He paid for all three meals even though I told him he didn’t have to, and then he took my hand and dragged me out to his truck. He swung me around and pressed me against the cold metal, leaning in slightly so I could smell the leather and cologne that swiveled around him. Light snowflakes began to flutter down around us as he spoke. His voice, a deep resonating lullaby that had my full attention. He looked a bit surreal to me as he stood beneath the streetlamp, the dim light highlighting the shadows around him.
“We met before, didn’t we?”
“I don’t think…”
“Sugar, I may look dumb, but I’m far from it. I may not remember every detail, but fuck if I don’t recognize those deep brown eyes of yours.”
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against mine. “You’ve been wandering my dreams for a long time.”
“I have?”
He nodded. “That’s right.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“You’re the Mayor’s daughter. I ain’t got no business there.”
I felt lightheaded. I found out all I needed about Troy Maverick the second I got home that night. I knew he had family in Eagle’s Ridge, Montana and I knew he had recently become the VP to the Royal Bastards. He was quiet though, didn’t start as much trouble as the Bloody Scorpions did. I liked that about him. That quiet, stoic side of him that made my insides flutter, and had that place between my legs, flushed with excitement. The man knew just how to work me up, but now that I had him in front of me, I didn’t know what to do with him, let alone what to do myself.
“Usually I’d take a woman like you home with me. Get you to warm my cold bed. But for some reason, Sugar, I feel like you deserve a little winin’ and dinin’ before I taste you. Because I will get a taste of you.”
I whimpered as he bit down on my lip. “Now let me take you home before I do some depraved shit to you out here that will get us both locked up in jail.”
“I could just call a ride.”
He reached behind me and propped the door open. “Get in.”
I stared at the seat and then at him. “Get in or I’ll make you get in, Sugar.”
Having this man make me do anything was suddenly an exciting notion. Biting down on my lip, I hesitated, but he wasn’t having that. As if I weighed nothing, he lifted me into the seat. I looked at him, speechless, and as I went to move my arm away from around his shoulder, he held my hand in place.
“You wrap yourself around me whenever you want to, you hear me?”
I nodded, our mouths were mere inches apart, and his hard body felt so good against mine. He gently dipped his head removing my arm and then proceeded to wrap the seatbelt around me. As it clicked into place the back of his fingers brushed against my breast and I let out a small breath just as he growled.
He pressed his forehead against mine and breathed. “You’re too sweet of a fairy, Sugar Plum. What would your father think if he saw you in my truck?”
“He’d probably disown me,” I whispered.
“And you’d be alright with that?”
“I’d be alright with anything you do to me.”
“Well, fuck,” he breathed. “You are driving me all sorts of crazy.”
He pulled away and slammed the door shut before he slid into the seat beside me. The truck smelled of leather and expensive cologne. I looked over at him and couldn’t believe what was happening. The man I’d been pining for, for the last year, was seated beside me and telling me that he knew who I was.
“This has to be a dream,” I whispered.
“No dream,” he responded, causing me to blush. “I’m as real as you want me to be.”
He smirked as he started up the engine and slowly made his way back out onto the road. The snow was getting thicker as he drove me out to the house.
He turned on the heat and it got warm, quick, inside his truck. The smell of leather and cologne was comforting, and it slowly lulled me to sleep. A few minutes later I was waking up to a brisk wind hitting my legs and face.
I grumbled and shifted, feeling a hint of stubble on my cheek. My eyes fluttered open to see him leaning over me, undoing the seat belt.
“Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi,” I whispered back, my heart feeling like it was beating out of my chest. I prayed that he couldn’t hear it.
“You’re home.”
I had my own place in town, a small one bedroom above the art gallery. Mostly local artists used it, but it was a quiet section in town and the apartments above were some of the largest. It was also a few blocks away from the Mayor’s office which made it easier to walk to work.
“You got a nice place here,” he whispered as he took in the Art Gallery’s new holiday display.
I smiled. “It’s okay.”
“Do you live alone?”
I nodded. “I do.”