Page 30 of Crow

Raven.

Relax. No one has to know it was us. Okay, fine, me.

“I want to see the lights. Do something that’s just for my own enrichment. Something that man has made that is undeniably lovely and not feel sinful for enjoying it.”

“Casino?” The driver adds helpfully to her list. He’s clearly been hooked on her every word, just the same as I am.

“Don’t they all have casinos?” I grumble.

“High end or regular shopping?”

Shopping. I’m well aware that Tarynn left her house with almost nothing.

“Are the stores still open?” I ask. It’s Sunday and it’s late, but I have something very specific in mind. It’s a need, not a want, and I’m not taking no for an answer.

“Depends on what you’d like, but for the most part, probably.”

We’re still on the side streets. We haven’t come into the real amazement that is the Strip at night. There’s no shortage of lights, buildings, and incredible things to see. The real delight is coming. A strange excitement that I can’t say I’ve reallyever felt, builds in my chest. You just reach a certain point in your life where nothing excites, thrills, or delights you anymore. I thought I’d hit that wall years ago, but Tarynn’s joy is contagious.

“Is there a bike store open? Somewhere we can get a decent set of leathers and some riding boots and a jacket?”

“Crow, I can’t aff—”

“This is my treat.” I cut off her protests firmly. She pinches her lips, and I don’t like the flat, stubborn line. “I’ll win it back playing poker later. Trust me on that. I’m good at it.”

“I’ve seen your books,” she breathes, just for my ears. “I believe that wholeheartedly.”

“I know a place. I’ll take you there and I can wait for you?” The driver asks.

With his meter ticking away, no doubt, but at least I won’t have to arrange for another cab, likely far off the Strip. “That works.”

I sit tight, trying to urge my dick to deflate, while Tarynn goes back to staring out the window and exclaiming over everything she sees. Her running commentary shouldn’t be stimulating, but for once, I can’t get my body to listen to me. It’s a first.

By the time I was a teenager, I had impeccable control over myself. I had to, or Raven would do something like burn down the house or throttle the jock assholes in school, just for the delight of it.

Not true. Everyone is always going on about putting good into the world. That would have been justice. By theway, have you considered that your cock won’t listen to your commands because you just straight up want to fuck a beautiful, alluring woman?

We’re not fucking her. You promised you wouldn’t hurt her. The only thing I want is to protect her and help her.

Hilarious. Can you hear me laughing? You can do all of those things and let her take the lead. I’m pretty sure I’m not wrong that if, given the opportunity, she’d ride or die. On. Your. Face. And love every single minute of it.

I grit my teeth against the supply of images that Raven interjects into my brain.

Our brain. Don’t forget it. Our dick. Our hands. Our body.

We pull up in front of a Harley store fifteen minutes later. The bright golden glow from the huge glass windows paints the sidewalk in front, as well as half the asphalt parking lot. There are several sleek bikes outside, one on the roof in front of a massive sign, and a whole showroom on the inside.

“They sell clothes here?” Tarynn asks. “Because I want to be clear, my budget for a bike is somewhere around two grand. When I said old and used, I meant old and used.”

“Just a jacket and boots. You’ll need that for riding. It’s important to have the right gear to be protected. A bike is no joke. You’re out there and it’s just you. You rack out, you’re going to want something between your skin and the pavement tearing it off your body, and proper boots are an absolute must.”

She hesitates, clearly torn.

“I know you want to be independent, but you also need this. We’re in Vegas. I promise that anything you want here will end up being free.”

“But if you win money, that’s your money.”

“Shouldn’t I be able to choose how to spend it?”

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