crushed on the way there.
He fired up the bike, allowing it to warm up and grumble beneath him. His leather clad hands on the handlebars felt so right, and he squeezed as he took off, roaring into the dark.
When Luke was on the road, nothing could get him. It was better than the sounds of the city at night. It was better than a cold beer on a hot day. It was even better than sex. Most of the time. He was one grumbling beast, and the world was a web of black asphalt beneath his tires.
The TV station wasn’t far away. He passed its gigantic satellite dish a few times a week, and he’d even snuck in to stargaze on the cool metal curve once or twice. The security at the station was pretty tight now though. He liked to think he’d had a hand in that.
Parking by the front doors, Luke assessed the scene. There were a few cars in the lot, but not as many as there would be during the day. It was a squat building of red brick, with a big set of glass doors that looked out of place on its aged facade. Someone had tried to make the place look modern, but it was still a shitty TV station in a small city in Oregon.
Kicking his stand and jumping off his bike, Luke unzipped his jacket and fished down the front of it for Achilles. The kitten gave a little meow as Luke pulled him out, placing him on his wide shoulder. Achilles had hung out there for a long time when he’d first brought him home. Luke suspected it was because he liked the scratchiness of Luke’s beard.
Achilles’ low purring buzzed against Luke’s neck as he swung the door open and entered the building. The receptionist’s eyes immediately snapped to him. She was a woman in her early-forties, with the first threads of gray beginning to slip through her hair, but she was still beautiful. People who worked in TV stations often were. She gave him a friendly smile as he approached, and when he stood directly in front of her desk, her eyes darted up and widened in what he took for pleasure as she noticed the kitten on his shoulder.
“Can I help you?” she asked. “Or your cat?”
“I saw on the news that a little girl is looking for this kitten,” he replied. “I’m here to return him to her.”
Her eyes washed over with adoration, and maybe a hint of lust. He should have guessed that saving a defenseless creature would endear him to the female population. They always loved a bad guy with a heart. He smirked at the thought. Did this woman—Sharon, according to her nametag—think that he’d get her in bed and show her the same gentleness that he did he cat? If so, she was wrong.
“I didn’t realize anyone would come so quickly,” she said, licking her lips. “Come with me.”
She rose from the desk and smoothed out the wrinkles in her tight black skirt. Luke watched her with interest. Maybe he’d come back and see her after getting Achilles back to his owner. He’d always wanted an older woman.
He followed her out from the desk to a door at the back of the room. Through the door was a long hallway, which apparently hadn’t gotten the memo about the modernity that the front half of the building had been subject to. It was cluttered, and the heels of his boots struck against the yellowing linoleum with a sick splat noise.
There were few people around, and those who he did see gave him a wide berth as he passed by. The receptionist strutted in front of him with her head high and her ass out, and he admired the view, though he was a little exasperated by the obviousness of it. He was starting to miss the chase. Sure, he could take her to somewhere skeezy and screw her brains out after he was done here if he wanted to, and knowing he held that power was thrilling, but there would be no real lead up.
He began eyeing the other women he passed in the corridors. The women who shrunk away. There were only a couple, and neither were his type.
And then he saw her.
The receptionist led him out
He fired up the bike, allowing it to warm up and grumble beneath him. His leather clad hands on the handlebars felt so right, and he squeezed as he took off, roaring into the dark.
When Luke was on the road, nothing could get him. It was better than the sounds of the city at night. It was better than a cold beer on a hot day. It was even better than sex. Most of the time. He was one grumbling beast, and the world was a web of black asphalt beneath his tires.
The TV station wasn’t far away. He passed its gigantic satellite dish a few times a week, and he’d even snuck in to stargaze on the cool metal curve once or twice. The security at the station was pretty tight now though. He liked to think he’d had a hand in that.
Parking by the front doors, Luke assessed the scene. There were a few cars in the lot, but not as many as there would be during the day. It was a squat building of red brick, with a big set of glass doors that looked out of place on its aged facade. Someone had tried to make the place look modern, but it was still a shitty TV station in a small city in Oregon.
Kicking his stand and jumping off his bike, Luke unzipped his jacket and fished down the front of it for Achilles. The kitten gave a little meow as Luke pulled him out, placing him on his wide shoulder. Achilles had hung out there for a long time when he’d first brought him home. Luke suspected it was because he liked the scratchiness of Luke’s beard.
Achilles’ low purring buzzed against Luke’s neck as he swung the door open and entered the building. The receptionist’s eyes immediately snapped to him. She was a woman in her early-forties, with the first threads of gray beginning to slip through her hair, but she was still beautiful. People who worked in TV stations often were. She gave him a friendly smile as he approached, and when he stood directly in front of her desk, her eyes darted up and widened in what he took for pleasure as she noticed the kitten on his shoulder.
“Can I help you?” she asked. “Or your cat?”
“I saw on the news that a little girl is looking for this kitten,” he replied. “I’m here to return him to her.”
Her eyes washed over with adoration, and maybe a hint of lust. He should have guessed that saving a defenseless creature would endear him to the female population. They always loved a bad guy with a heart. He smirked at the thought. Did this woman—Sharon, according to her nametag—think that he’d get her in bed and show her the same gentleness that he did he cat? If so, she was wrong.
“I didn’t realize anyone would come so quickly,” she said, licking her lips. “Come with me.”
She rose from the desk and smoothed out the wrinkles in her tight black skirt. Luke watched her with interest. Maybe he’d come back and see her after getting Achilles back to his owner. He’d always wanted an older woman.
He followed her out from the desk to a door at the back of the room. Through the door was a long hallway, which apparently hadn’t gotten the memo about the modernity that the front half of the building had been subject to. It was cluttered, and the heels of his boots struck against the yellowing linoleum with a sick splat noise.
There were few people around, and those who he did see gave him a wide berth as he passed by. The receptionist strutted in front of him with her head high and her ass out, and he admired the view, though he was a little exasperated by the obviousness of it. He was starting to miss the chase. Sure, he could take her to somewhere skeezy and screw her brains out after he was done here if he wanted to, and knowing he held that power was thrilling, but there would be no real lead up.
He began eyeing the other women he passed in the corridors. The women who shrunk away. There were only a couple, and neither were his type.
And then he saw her.
The receptionist led him out
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