Page 26 of The Biker and the Loner
I nod.
"Good. Sit down. Lemme go grab us two beers." He massages the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "You want junk food? Hotdog, popcorn?"
"Popcorn."
I watch him go, and only when he disappears through the doors of the Snack Bar do I lower to the blanket. Had I known of his plans beforehand, I would have brought along two cushions.
One of those multi-superhero movies plays out on the big screen. I'm not a fan of action so I don’t particularly care to watch. Glancing around, I notice that only Onyx and two others are dateless, propped back on their bikes. The rest are all cuddled up on blankets or in chairs. Big, bad bikers all tamed by their Old ladies and Steadies.
Scratch returns a few minutes later with a bucket of popcorn, a large Snickers bar, and two beers.
We pop the caps off the bottles, clink them together, and suck back beer. He watches me the entire time.
"You're a bombshell, you know that?” he compliments after his second swig.
I avert my gaze and give a one-shoulder shrug. "I'm all right."
He scoffs. "There ain’t nothing ‘all right’ about you, Ley. Trust me."
"Shh. I’m trying to watch the movie."
I'm not. I don't care for what’s showing on the big screen, but I also don't do well with compliments. They embarrass me. And I get them a lot, unwanted and unsought.
The way Scratchlooksat me is compliment enough. His stripping gaze makes me feel like nothing or no one else exists, leaving me heated and bothered. The words, though...I prefer not to hear them.
"C’mere," he says, pointing to the spot between his bent legs.
Defiant as I am, I crawl between his tree-trunk thighs and lean back against his chest. When I pick up the Snickers bar and start to open the wrapper, he snatches it from my fingers. "Nuh-uh, this is mine. That big ass bucket of popcorn is yours."
"Who said romance is dead?" I grouse as I scoop up a handful of popcorn and begin munching.
He chuckles. "Asked you what you wanted and you said popcorn, Peach. So you got popcorn."
"Whatever," I mumble.
Still chuckling, he tugs at my ponytail and leans down to press a soft kiss to my neck. Butterflies go haywire in my belly.
We fall into comfortable silence as we join in watching the movie. It’s so warm and cozy between Scratch’s thighs, against his hard chest. Such a snug and perfect place to be that I find myself enjoying the movie. It's action-packed with tons of dry humor, and whenever something cool happens, people honk their horns obnoxiously, while the bikers roar.
Scratch feeds me tiny pieces of his Snickers bar, and my sneaky tongue tries to steal a taste of his fingertips each time he does. I keep having small flashes of our first—and only—night together. How it wasn't the most pleasant at first, but then he took his time to make it good.
I bite my lip and inwardly scold myself. I shouldn't be thinking of him in a sexual manner. He'sScratch. A leopard doesn't change its spots. Why am I getting involved with him when IknowI'm going to get hurt? He's back from war and is even hotter than he was before. Not to mention that that new face scar of his is like a magnet for bad-boy-chasing women. I don't have to ask if women are throwing themselves at him at the compound or otherwise.
Come to think of it, how many women has he been with since he got back? The thought makes me sick. What has he been up to in the last few days since I saw him? Old Scratch always said he couldn’t “end a day without a lay.” If that's still who he is, then there's a high chance that he's been drowning in sex since he got back, all while pursuing me.
Dear God,why on earth am I doing this to myself? Why can’t I just turn my annoying brain off and enjoy the moment?
Here's the thing, I know Scratch and what he's capable of, yes. But I also know that I like being with him, that I like having his eyes and attention on me, that I like his lips on mine, his touch on my skin, and that I would possibly, maybe…like tofeelhim again.
If I go into this with the lowest of expectations, then I should be able to do this for however long it will take him to get bored of me and walk out of it unscathed. I'm a big girl, I can keep my emotions out of it, right? Right?
Right.
So that's it then. Super low expectations. Purely physical. No emotions, no falling in love.
Good.
Now, Heart, you can shut the hell up. Brain and Body are in control now. We've got this.
