Page 19 of Property of Lucian

Chapter 11

Haylee

I looked at him, unsure I had heard him correctly. “You want me on the back of the bike?” I said the words slowly. “Your bike?”

He looked at me like I was stupid. “Did I speak fucking gibberish when I talked a moment ago?” He handed me his helmet. “Come on, sweetheart, ya acting like you’ve never been on the back of one before.” He even winked at me. I think he was trying to lighten the mood between us by being playful.

“I haven’t. I’m normally the one in control.” I shallowed sharply. “How can I get on the back when I don’t even know what type of rider you are?” He could be flat out and crazy, or normal. I highly doubted he was normal, though. Bikers loved speed.

“I guess ya going have to trust me.” He looked at me, and you would think by his expression that he had just asked me to love him. I smiled faintly.

“Guess I’m going to have too.” I took the helmet and climbed on.

“Hold on tight, sweetheart,” he said firmly, then grabbed my arms and pulled me into his back, wrapping my arms around him tightly.

He took off causing me to go straight into his back, and I held on for dear life. He chuckled and his hand ran up my bare leg.

“Sweetheart, I’m not gunna kill you. Now let’s get you some clothes.” He had amusement in his voice. Hearing that charming tone to his voice sent my heart pumping faster.

* * *

We had done a short trip into town, and now that we were here, I was apparently shopping. I hated shopping and didn’t put much thought to what I purchased. I dumped the warm clothes on the counter, in which I got directly told that Lucian didn’t like what I had picked.

I was now on my third lot of choices, and he finally agreed.

Everyone was avoiding us as we walked down the busy shopping centre, but I didn’t care. I was so focused on trying not to trip over all the bags I was carrying. I was thankful that Lucian had ordered a van to pick up my shopping.

I was walking past a lingerie shop when I grabbed Lucina’s hand. This is was the first time I had touched him without being silently told to by his eyes. I hoped it was okay, but I was too nervous to look back to see if I’d crossed a line. Instead, I dragged him into the lingerie shop.

I felt his other hand move onto my waist and I inhaled sharply. “Now these you have to try on,” he said huskily in my ear. “We’re buying the whole store.”

I blushed. “Guess you’ll have to unwrap me every night to see what I’m wearing.” I pushed out of his grasp and started to head for the outfits.

“Or I’ll just have you walk around in them,” he said loudly, scoring the attention of the assistants.

My expression dropped. I wouldn’t put it past him.

* * *

We had handed over the last of the shopping bags over half an hour ago, and I was wondering why we were still at the mall.

Then we came to a stop outside a tattoo shop.

“Didn’t want this tattoo to be like all your others . . . done outside of a shop.” He paused and my expression dropped. “You know why you’re here?”

I looked at the tattoo shop. “Yes.”

“You know what you’re getting?”

“A property tattoo?” I looked back at him and he nodded his head.

“I’m letting you decide where you want it.” He pushed open the door for me, and I walked in while a huge part of me—the me that felt free for a few hours—remained outside because as I sat in the tattooist chair. I knew this sealed my fate.

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