Page 22 of Ride Long
“Got nothing else to do.” I made a face. “You know full well I’ve been ordered to stay put. There’s only so much Real Housewives of LA I cantake.”
“Still dreaming of being a boy,hey?”
“Careful, old timer. I’m not a little girlanymore.”
“No, you are definitelynot.”
I feigned puking and turned my attention to the motorcycle. It was a pretty thing, all black and chrome. It was understated and not as big and bulky as the bikes lined upoutside.
“What’s this part?” I asked, tapping the side underneath the handlebars. It was painted a shiny black with the model of the bike written on it in fancypaintwork.
“That’s the fuel tank,” Gasket replied. “Here.”
Standing, he pointed out the different parts. The radiator, muffler, oil tank, shock absorbers, the engine casing, breaks, ignition, and clutch. There wasn’t much to it, but I had no idea what to do with amuffler.
“It’s a nice motorcycle,” I said. “But it’s a lot smaller than the others. They’re all beefed-uptricycles.”
“Tricycles?” one of the other men called out. “Watch yourself,Sloane!”
Gasket snorted, covering up a smile. “Most of the men around here like their bikes big and soundingbigger.”
“Is it a dickthing?”
“A big dick thing!” Spike shouted from under the car, causing a roar of laughter to echo through theworkshop.
“It’s Chaser’s,” Gasket said, watching me closely. “I hope he treated you good. He’s got a reputation, and it ain’tsunshine.”
“As well as can be expected when a bunch of fruitcakes are shooting at you,” I said, not letting the mention of his name show on my face. Well, I tried not to. It had been hard to shake the memory of our covert fuck the othernight.
Gasket snorted, not looking toopleased.
So, this was Chaser’s bike. Now I knew him better, something classic and simple suited him down to the ground. He wasn’t about overestimating the size of his cock. What was it he said to me when we first met?I don’t need to force any woman onto my cock. They just slide righton.
“I expected something…meaner,” I said, curling mylip.
Spike appeared on the other side of the bike and snorted. “Chaser’s a pretty boy. Pretty boys need prettybikes.”
Gasket said nothing. He just raised his eyebrows ever soslightly.
“So what are you doing to it? Giving it a tune-up or something?” I asked, steering the conversation away from dangerous waters. Rock the boat too much and I might get flustered and give myselfup.
“Right on the money,sweets.”
“He hardly rides,” Spike said. “It’s a wonder it ain’t rustedthrough.”
“Oil, radiator, brakes, tire pressure, engine.” Gasket tapped each part as he rattled off his mental checklist. “You want to learn orsomething?”
“Can I?” I tilted my head to the side. It wasn’t bartending or studying to become an educated whatever, but it was something to do and a way to get closer to the men I wanted to winover.
Spike snorted and walked away, giving his verdict on the subject. He thought I wasjoking.
Gasket narrowed his eyes and sighed, knowing full well what I was like. “C’mere.”
Smiling, I knelt beside him as he got back to work, telling me all the ins and outs of Chaser’s pussy bike’s engine. He handed me a spanner and got me tightening nuts and bolts so I could pretend I was actually helping. It was quite charming…if I were five yearsold.
“What the hell happened to you?” Spikeexclaimed.
“I got a talkin’-to, that’s what happened.”Ratchet.
