three women in the cab and gave the driver a hundred to see that all three got home safely.
When he returned, Bridget was looking at her ankle with a mirror. “Is that the design I picked out?”
“Yes, but modified a little so it’s unique.”
“It kind of looks like a butterfly.”
“So your steps may be as light.”
She looked at him, her eyes tearing up. She wanted to tell him, to pour her heart out about how she felt. He had started out as nothing more than a plaything, a distraction, but he was so much more now.
“You ready to finish this?” he asked as he sat down again.
“No. I need something else from you.”
“You do?” he asked, taking her foot and massaging it. If she didn’t want to finish the tattoo he should send her home, but as he caressed her foot, he knew he wouldn’t. He had tried to end this several times already, but each time he weakened and couldn’t carry through.
“Yes. I need you to fuck me.”
“It just makes this harder, Bridget. You’re going to be married in two weeks.”
“I know. But I need you, Stiles. I need to feel your touch tonight.”
He looked down, drowning in shame again. “And Terry?”
“He’s in Vegas for a convention. He won’t be back until Wednesday night.” She looked at him, and could see the pain in his eyes. She knew she was hurting him but she couldn’t let him go, not yet, not until the very last moment.
She slid off the table and to her knees in front of him. “Please, Stiles, we don’t have much time left. Can’t we enjoy our last few days together before I become Mrs. Terry Lewis?”
“This is wrong, Bridget. You know that.”
“Then why did you come to Cutters?” she whispered as she moved in to take his lips. “It’s because you know this is so very right.”
He started to push her away, but the warmth of her breath on his lips caused his resolve to disappear like smoke in a wind. He took her by the back of the head and pulled her lips strongly to his, her arms going around his neck as she leaned into the kiss while their tongues darted and probed. She pulled back, her eyes bright, but no longer from tears.
“Take me to bed, Stiles. Take me to bed and fuck me like you have never fucked me before.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“This is where you live?” Lindy asked as Treble pulled into an RV campground.
“That’s right,” he replied as he putt-putted through the park.
The ride through the night air had cleared her head a bit and she was feeling less strung out and itchy. They pulled to a stop beside a large RV that looked a lot like a city bus, but with parts of the walls sticking out and a better paint job. He killed the bike and waited for her to dismount before leaning the bike onto the stand.
He opened the door to the RV and stood back. “Make yourself at home. I just need to put the bike away.”
She stepped up into the RV and looked around. She had never been in an RV before, and didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t this. The place appeared larger than she expected, and was amazing, with hard wood floors and leather seating areas. It looked more like what she imagined a business jet would look like than an RV. She looked out of the window when she heard the bike start and watched as Treble rode the Harley into an enclosed trailer. A moment later he stepped out, closed and locked the door, then entered.
“Whatcha think?” he asked with obvious pride.
“I’m impressed. For some reason I thought living in an RV would be…I don’t know…more like living in a nice tent. This place is nicer than my apartment.”
“I like it.”
“Why do you live here? I mean, why in an RV?”
“Lots of people live in an RV. I grew up living in one.”
“I know, but when I think of people living in one, I think of retired people.”
“My dad works on pipelines. Rather than living in
When he returned, Bridget was looking at her ankle with a mirror. “Is that the design I picked out?”
“Yes, but modified a little so it’s unique.”
“It kind of looks like a butterfly.”
“So your steps may be as light.”
She looked at him, her eyes tearing up. She wanted to tell him, to pour her heart out about how she felt. He had started out as nothing more than a plaything, a distraction, but he was so much more now.
“You ready to finish this?” he asked as he sat down again.
“No. I need something else from you.”
“You do?” he asked, taking her foot and massaging it. If she didn’t want to finish the tattoo he should send her home, but as he caressed her foot, he knew he wouldn’t. He had tried to end this several times already, but each time he weakened and couldn’t carry through.
“Yes. I need you to fuck me.”
“It just makes this harder, Bridget. You’re going to be married in two weeks.”
“I know. But I need you, Stiles. I need to feel your touch tonight.”
He looked down, drowning in shame again. “And Terry?”
“He’s in Vegas for a convention. He won’t be back until Wednesday night.” She looked at him, and could see the pain in his eyes. She knew she was hurting him but she couldn’t let him go, not yet, not until the very last moment.
She slid off the table and to her knees in front of him. “Please, Stiles, we don’t have much time left. Can’t we enjoy our last few days together before I become Mrs. Terry Lewis?”
“This is wrong, Bridget. You know that.”
“Then why did you come to Cutters?” she whispered as she moved in to take his lips. “It’s because you know this is so very right.”
He started to push her away, but the warmth of her breath on his lips caused his resolve to disappear like smoke in a wind. He took her by the back of the head and pulled her lips strongly to his, her arms going around his neck as she leaned into the kiss while their tongues darted and probed. She pulled back, her eyes bright, but no longer from tears.
“Take me to bed, Stiles. Take me to bed and fuck me like you have never fucked me before.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“This is where you live?” Lindy asked as Treble pulled into an RV campground.
“That’s right,” he replied as he putt-putted through the park.
The ride through the night air had cleared her head a bit and she was feeling less strung out and itchy. They pulled to a stop beside a large RV that looked a lot like a city bus, but with parts of the walls sticking out and a better paint job. He killed the bike and waited for her to dismount before leaning the bike onto the stand.
He opened the door to the RV and stood back. “Make yourself at home. I just need to put the bike away.”
She stepped up into the RV and looked around. She had never been in an RV before, and didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t this. The place appeared larger than she expected, and was amazing, with hard wood floors and leather seating areas. It looked more like what she imagined a business jet would look like than an RV. She looked out of the window when she heard the bike start and watched as Treble rode the Harley into an enclosed trailer. A moment later he stepped out, closed and locked the door, then entered.
“Whatcha think?” he asked with obvious pride.
“I’m impressed. For some reason I thought living in an RV would be…I don’t know…more like living in a nice tent. This place is nicer than my apartment.”
“I like it.”
“Why do you live here? I mean, why in an RV?”
“Lots of people live in an RV. I grew up living in one.”
“I know, but when I think of people living in one, I think of retired people.”
“My dad works on pipelines. Rather than living in
Similar Books
Your Room or Mine?
Charlotte Phillips
Sun on Fire
Viktor Arnar Ingólfsson
The Amazing Mexican Secret
Jeff Brown
The Captain
Lynn Collum
A Sailor's Honour
Chris Marnewick
Cuts
Richard Laymon
Seasons of Sugarcreek 03. Autumn's Promise
Shelley Shepard Gray
The Merry Pranked
Day Rusk