Page 16 of Barron

“Yeah. There are some real weirdos out there. Good riddance.” Johnny G turned into the wax-play area and moved straight for a pretty, short, blonde wearing a black thong and nothing else. Her smile was lovely, and her pert nipples teased Barron’s libido. His fingers itched with the desire to pluck one erect tip and twist it until the cute subbie whimpered.

Really? And interfere in Johnny G’s scene?

Shit, he needed to get laid or jerk himself off. When was the last time he’d dived into a tight, hot pussy?

Fuck.

The memory that came back deflated his dick and the rising interest.

“This is Kathy.” Johnny Gun’s introduction diverted his troubling thoughts.

Lowering her eyes, the subbie blushed sweetly. She was perfect for Johnny G. It was time to put an end to this wild night and bow out.

Barron glanced at his friend and sighed. “I’ll see you in the morning. That sub fucked my night. My head’s no longer in this.”

“I’ll go home with you.” Johnny G turned to Kathy. “You understand, right? My buds had a bad experience tonight.”

Kathy’s sweet smile remained, but she couldn’t hide her disappointment. And more power to her, she didn’t complain.

“No, man.” Barron slapped him on the shoulder. “Stay with Kathy. Don’t let that weirdo ruin your night too. Have fun. I can find my way home no problem.”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

Barron strode toward the exit. If he didn’t, Johnny Gun would leave with him, and that wasn’t fair to his best friend.

In a few moments, he left the world of fantasies behind and crossed over to humdrum reality. He climbed on his bike and rode out into the night.

The May night was cool and the streets were almost deserted, just the way he liked to ride. Barron headed back to Garden City without a specific destination. Despite the helmet, he loved the rush of air battering his face. Once in a while, he’d think back tothe years, long before his riding days, when helmets weren’t mandatory. He tried to imagine how freeing it would have felt to ride with the wind blowing through his hair. Didn’t matter. Despite the enforced safety equipment, riding was still an exhilarating experience. An absolute release for him, and very close to flying. He couldn’t imagine living without his motorcycle.

As he wound through the next few streets, he slowed his speed. Should he be surprised he’d ended up in Yoanni’s neighborhood? Who was he kidding? He should ride away. One more turn, and he’d be in front of her house.

But did he…ride away?

No.

The pull to her was stronger than his will to stay away. Within seconds, he eased his bike onto her sidewalk and stopped, though he kept it on idle. Straddling the motorcycle, he folded his arms on the handlebars and just stared at the dark windows of the cute bungalow. She had to be sleeping. Her work day began early.

Did she dream of him?

He pushed the thought away.

Yoanni had moved here three years ago. She’d told him how she found her house purely by luck and how perfect it was with the back garden where she liked to plant vegetables. In the front yard, she had white dogwoods and a bright pink crape myrtle, now in full bloom.

What the fuck was he doing here? Pining like a teenager. This was his fault. He’d pushed her to break from him, made it impossible for her to stay because, in his opinionated Dominant mind, it was the best thing for her, and yet… He’d regretted his actions since, every day and night. Especially on those fitful, burning nights when his aching heart and mind produced vivid memories of her laughter, her bratty ways, her vibrant personality, and sweet kisses.

Yoanni was Little. What an amazing revelation. Blade insistedshe was, and he should know. He’d married one. Had Cutter also known?

But what was Barron supposed to do? How could he bridge the terrible gap between them? The ugly distance he’d created…

A car rushed past on the street behind him and flickered its lights. The driver slowed at the corner and pulled into the driveway. Barron returned to his memories, but another vehicle, this time an SUV, slowed as it passed, then parked two houses down, in front. He sighed. Yoanni’s neighbors were getting nervous with his solitary presence and the way he was staring at her place.

It was time to go home. He’d had enough self-torture and weirdness for one night. Easing the bike to the street, he revved the engine and took off.

CHAPTER FOUR

Standing before her mirror, Yoanni downed the last sip of her café con leche. She gave her image one last look in the mirror and sighed. Work clothes were such a bore.

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