Page 15 of Love is Blind

I reach for her hand, lacing our fingers together. My tattooed fingers wrap perfectly around hers.

Dark and light.

Filthy and so fucking clean.

A ghost and an angel.

Chapter Four

Ghost

Birdie was right,all eyes were on us as we walked out of the bathroom, but it wasn’t her they were gawking at. They were staring at me. To them I was an enigma. They heard the stories, knew my past and they couldn’t figure me out. Was I the bad biker who threatened porn stars or the grieving father?

“Stay here,” I murmur against her ear. “I’m just going to settle the tab at the bar.” Before I can release her hand, she squeezes mine. I lift my gaze and watch as she draws her lower lip between her teeth, apprehension washing over her features. “What’s wrong?”

I should’ve realized she’d have second thoughts—the good ones always do.

She releases her lip and turns her head.

“Emmy. She’s going to try to talk you out of taking me with you. Apparently, my cousin thinks I’m an imbecile.”

Something that feels a lot like relief swarms me. Maybe she’s not such a good girl, after all. I glance over my shoulder and sure as fuck I find Emmy scowling at me. Well, that’s too bad. If I couldn’t talk myself out of taking Birdie on the back of my bike, she sure as fuck don’t stand a chance.

“I’ll handle Emmy,” I say as I turn and start for the bar.

I make it two steps before Birdie calls out to me. Keeping my boots firmly planted on the floor, I turn and stare at her expectantly. She takes a step closer to me, then another and one more after that—until we’re breathing the same air. Then her hands find me and roam up the front of my kutte, irrevocably branding me with her gentle touch.

“Birdie,” I warn.

“Shh,” she whispers.

Her fingers graze my beard and a faint smile fills her pretty face. I swallow hard, my patience teetering—fists flexing. I don’t know what she’s doing, but if she keeps touching me, I’m gonna do something that warrants all the attention we’re getting. Like, throw her against the wall and take her right here. Then these judgmental assholes won’t have to wonder about me anymore, they’ll know I’m a beast that can’t be tamed.

She closes her eyes, those long lashes sweeping over her cheekbones as her thumb finds my lips and she traces them softly.

Once…twice…fucking girl is killing me.

I struggle to remain still. To keep my hands at my sides and not reach for her face. To not punish her mouth for making me feel like I’m on fucking fire.

She inches forward and rises up on her toes, pressing her mouth to mine. It starts as a gentle sweep, just her silky lips brushing against mine, but then she slides her fingers through my hair and grabs the back of my head. Angling her mouth over mine, her tongue slides over the seam of my lips and it’s game on.

The barbed wire fence that’s been caging the animal hibernating inside of me fucking starts to rattle. I open for her, taking charge the second her tongue crosses the threshold and enters my mouth. Pushing her back against the wall, I bring my hands to her face and hold her in place as I suck on her tongue.

Vodka.

A little bit of whiskey.

Sugar, spice, and sweet fucking honey.

All Birdie.

There’s not a drug like her on the fucking planet.

I pluck and plunder every inch of her mouth. Her fingers curl in my hair and she fists the front of my kutte, arching off the wall, melding her soft body against my hard one. Growling, I press her deeper, the hard ridge of my erection hits her stomach and a moan rushes from the back of her throat.

Desperate for more, I start to pull away. If I keep at her, I really will fuck her right here. Sally’s BBQ will no longer be a family friendly establishment, Maverick will fucking kill me and oddly enough, I’m not ready to die.

Not yet.

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