Page 56 of The Girlfriend's Guide to Dating a Biker
“I’ll take you home,” Jake said firmly.
“But your date?—”
“Don’t worry about me,” I said.
The look Jake gave me, soft and intense all at once, made everything inside me go quiet.
Half an hour later, she was feeling well enough to head home. While Jake took a call out on his balcony, she looked at me with a warm smile.
“Thank you for the movies,” she said. “And for making my boy smile again.”
Her words wrapped around my heart, squeezing tight with unexpected emotion.
“And now,” she said as Jake stepped back inside, “I just need to use the bathroom.”
Jake’s hands came to my hips the moment she disappeared, pulling me in close like the last half hour hadn’t been a fever dream. “Sorry I can’t feed you,” he murmured.
“Tragic,” I said, trying very hard to sound normal while his hands reacquainted themselves with my body. “I was really looking forward to discovering if you cook better than you teach pool.”
His lips quirked. “There’s my smartass.” He bent to kiss my neck, just once, softly. “I’ll make it up to you when I get back. After I clean this fuckin’ kitchen.”
“I can clean it while you’re gone, if you want.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I instantly panicked. Was that weird? Offering to stay at his place? While he wasn’t home. Oh god, I was weird.
But Jake didn’t even blink. “Fuck no, darlin’. You’re not cleaning my mess.”
He brought his mouth back to mine for a kiss that was over way too soon and then pulled back with a frustrated exhale. “Jesus. What a shitshow this date turned into.”
The look on his face—genuinely baffled, like the universe had punked him—made me laugh. I’d only ever seen him calm and completely in control. Seeing him thrown like this was low-key adorable.
“You know,” I said, smoothing my hands up his chest, “I was going to give this night five stars. But I’m deducting one for the kitchen carnage and another for the orgasm that got away.”
He made a noise like I’d physically pained him. “You’re gonna make me walk out of here hard as a fuckin’ rock, aren’t you?”
“Sounds like a you problem.”
His eyes darkened, the heat flickering right back to life. “Don’t worry, darlin’. You’ll be the one begging when I get back.”
OH.
There it was again, that voice. That filthy gentleman thing he did.
“Is that your way of asking to come over later?”
“Asking?” The look in his eyes was positively sinful. “Darlin’, the things I’m going to do to you when I get back won’t be a request.” His teeth grazed my earlobe as his hand moved up my thigh under my dress.
The sound of the bathroom door opening had him pulling back. “I don’t know how long I’ll be,” he said quietly as we heard his mum’s footsteps approaching. “But I’ll text when I’m on my way.”
I nodded, somehow managing to form words despite the anticipation thrumming through my veins. “I’ll be waiting.”
Waiting.
Possibly vibrating.
Definitely rewatching The Princess Bride in an attempt to regulate my nervous system and not overthink the fact that I almost got railed on a kitchen counter before meeting his mother mid-sauce explosion.
Because that is my life now, apparently.
Dating a biker named Jake Savage.
