I nod, understanding. “I want to know about it.”

  “I don’t want to scare you away. Not yet.” He swipes his thumb against my cheek, and I lean into his touch.

  “Give me the benefit of the doubt.”

  He stares at me stoically. An enigma before my very eyes.

  “Let’s go for a ride and then we’ll talk,” he seems to concede.

  “I’m good with that,” I agree. Gerard mounts the bike, and I immediately wrap my arms around his waist. I have been yearning to touch him, to be close to him like earlier this evening. Plastered against his broad body, we drive along the coastline, the warm wind whipping against our faces as we follow the snakelike road.

  I’m not sure how long we drive, nor do I care, but Gerard finally pulls over onto a secluded overlook near Point Dume. The bike teeters a bit as we drive down a sandy pathway, but Gerard keeps control. We stop several yards away from the highway, hidden behind some trees. Point Dume has magnificent views of seaside cliffs, even at night, with the moon casting a bright glow over the calm ocean and long stretch of beach. Everything is lit up in a silvery luminescence. It’s breathtaking, hypnotic, and wildly romantic.

  Gerard parks, flicks out the kickstand, and then turns to face me on his seat.

  “You must be quite the ladies’ man. You know all the good spots,” I quip.

  Gerard chuckles. “Nah, the only person I’ve ever taken here is Ky. He loved this beach as kid.”

  “I must be lucky then. You taking me here.”

  “Darlin’, I’m the one who’s lucky by you even givin’ me the time of day.”

  I perk up. “Why do you say that?”

  “Different worlds.”

  “Just because you own an auto body shop and I own a Fortune 500 company doesn't make us that different,” I argue. I may be rich now, but I came from a blue-collar background. I know what it’s like to work for every single dollar you have. I’ll never forget that part of my life. It’s what makes me who I am. It’s what helped make my daughter such a strong, compassionate, diligent woman. It’s the part of myself I’m most proud of.

  “That’s not what I’m referring to.” Gerard rests his hands on my knees and then slowly runs his palms up my thighs. I like the contact. It makes me want more. More of him, more touching, more caressing, more everything. “I have responsibilities to people. To people who are rough and rugged and sometimes dangerous. And you are . . .” He places his hand affectionately on my neck. “You are none of those things.”

  I wish I could say Gerard is none of those things either, but he is. He is each and every adverb he described. But he is also smart, and funny, and honest, as far as I can tell.

  “How do you know I’m not dangerous?” I tempt him.

  “Just a hunch.” He swipes his thumb back and forth over my jugular vein.

  “Are you dangerous?” I lean in a little closer to him, my tone serious.

  “When I have to be.” He doesn’t sugar coat anything.

  “Will you ever hurt me?”

  “Never.” His voice is rough as his warm breath skates across my skin.

  “Then what does it matter what world we come from?”

  “It doesn't to me, but I wasn’t sure if it would matter to you. I have baggage.”

  “So do I. Lots of it. Should that stop us?”

  “Nothing stops me when I want something,” Gerard declares.

  “Do you want me?” I drop a bombshell of a question.

  “I’ve wanted you from the first damn second I saw you,” he drops a bombshell of an answer. I lean in closer, with no hesitation, and press my lips to his. I don’t care about his baggage or mine, or if he knows dangerous people. I just care about him. About him kissing me, touching me, being with me.

  A groan vibrates in his throat as he locks both hands against my neck and deepens the kiss, his mouth becoming more aggressive with every passing second. I grab onto Gerard’s wrists for support as our lips smash and our tongues circle in a clash of compulsion. It’s as if a gravitational force is driving us together. I can’t stop, nor do I want to. I need air, but I want Gerard more.

  He hauls me closer to him on the bike, our pelvises close enough to grind. Fastening his palms to my bottom, he gropes my ass as he assails my mouth, claiming, owning, affirming that my lips belong to him. My heart starts to pound and so does my head as everything inside me begins to heat up.

  We go at it like two horny teenagers, right here, out in the open, on top of his bike. I lose myself as his hand slips up my shirt to caress my breast. God, how long has it fuckin’ been since a man touched me? I can’t remember the last time. I can, however, attest, no man has ever touched me like Gerard. There's a clear sense of aggression, of dominance, of urgency. I can't quite explain it, but I know, no one has ever put their hands on me like this.

  “Shit, darlin’.” Gerard thrusts his hips, pressing his confined erection right between my legs. The rocklike feel against my pussy has me mewling. I don't want to sound desperate, but Christ, it's been so long, and he feels so good.

  I try to keep my hormones in check and my wits about me, but the more he touches me, the more he kisses me, the more we dry-fuck, the more I want to rip his clothes off right here on this bike.

  “Darlin’, if you were any other woman,” he heaves out. “I would bend you right over this bike and not care who’s watchin’.”

  “And you’re not because?” My reply is breathy.

  “Because you're not some clubhouse whore.”

  I shake my head. “I don't know what that is.”

  “Exactly. You’re more. You deserve more than just a fast, meaningless fuck over my bike.”

  I stare at Gerard. I can’t believe what’s about to come out of my mouth, but I say it. “So, take me home, and fuck me slow, and make it mean something.”

  Yup, I said it, and I meant it. His reaction will be the deciding factor.

  “If I take you home, darlin’, I may never let you leave.”

  “Maybe I won’t want to leave, but we’ll never know if we don’t go.” Oh, the boldness is making an appearance tonight. I don’t know what’s come over me; it’s like a spell or something. Sex on the first date? It’s not advice I would give my daughter, but she’s young and still impressionable, looking for a man she’ll make her husband. I’m a forty-something divorcee with a shithead for an ex and a sex life drier than the desert. My reputation isn’t at stake anymore. Gerard may never speak to me after tonight, and I could probably live with that. It’s just the point I'm at in my life. Solid enough alone, secure enough to have some fun.

  “Kristen, it’s on.” Gerard sits upright. He presses an affirming kiss on my lips, then picks up the helmets that were tossed on the ground.

  Before I know it, we are peeling out onto the highway. I’m latched onto a man I barely know, on my way to a place I know nothing about.

  Here goes nothing.

  Gerard’s home is a cozy, two-bedroom ranch just on the outskirts of LA. It wasn’t what I was expecting, but it’s a nice surprise. We didn’t do much of a tour, seeing as soon as we got into the house his hands were on me, leading me straight into his bedroom. I did catch a few glimpses of the black leather couch in the living room, the free weights on the floor, and the humongous flat-screen TV on the wall. It’s a bachelor pad for sure.

  But what I am currently intrigued with most is the shirtless man in front of me, inked all over his chest and arms, looking at me like I’m Thanksgiving dinner.

  A smack of reality hits me square in the face. He is dark and dangerous and amazing, and I’m a forty-two-year-old woman whose body isn't what it used to be. I don't think I thought this all the way through.

  Out on the bike, I got caught up in the moment, and now? Now I’m realizing exactly what is about to happen. Oh shit.

  Gerard puts his hands on my waist, and I tense up. Kristen, get out of your head.

  “Darlin’, what’s wrong?” Gerard starts kissing my neck and trying to pull my shirt off my body.

  “Nothing.” I push my insecurities away. I want this. I want him. My demons of the past have been vanquished. Mostly.

  “Let’s get something straight right now.” Gerard pulls back and look directly into my eyes. “If there is one thing I can smell like a bloodhound, it’s bullshit. So, let’s try this again. Darlin’, what’s wrong?”

  Well then.

  “Nothing's wrong, per se. It’s just been a while,” I reluctantly admit. “And I’m not exactly twenty anymore. I have a woman’s body.” I clear my throat, uncomfortable.

  “I know.” He wraps his arms around me and sucks on my neck. “And I can’t wait to get that body naked and beneath me.”

  I can’t really wait for that either; I just hope he’s not disappointed.

  “Hurry up then,” I encourage him, just wanting to rip the damn Band-Aid off. If he doesn’t like what he sees, there is nothing I can do about it but leave.

  That would completely suck, but here goes everything. I assist him with pulling my shirt over my head. There isn’t any blood-curdling screams or bleeding eyes.

  “Damn.” Gerard gazes down at me as he passes his palms all over my curves.

  My heart punches through my chest, but I don’t stop him when he hooks his thumbs into my leather pants and shimmies them down my thighs. I kick off my boots and step out of my pants, standing before him in just a lacy bra and panties. Don’t show fear, weakness, or intimidation, I tell myself over and over. It’s something I had to learn to instill in myself when I was going through my divorce. My ex fed on intimidation and fear. He knew how to instill it and then use it to his advantage. And for years, he manipulated me. Made me feel like I was nothing. Like I needed him to live. To survive. That I would be no one without him. It was all lies. But I was young and naïve, and I believed him for so long. But not anymore. And never again. I know who I am. But life tests even the strongest of people. And Lord knows, I am being tested right now.

  “I know you said fuck you slow, and I’ll sure as hell try, but I can’t make any promises at first. I want you bad, darlin’.” Gerard all but mauls me. “Shit, you’re beautiful. I’m one lucky bastard right now.”

  I giggle as he forces me onto the bed. “And such a sweet talker.”

  “I don’t need to be a sweet talker.” Gerard pushes my thighs wide open, and I gasp. “My tongue says it all.” He drops his head and encloses his mouth over my pussy, teasing my clit with ungodly pressure against the lacy material of my panties.

  “Oh.” I tense as a crippling sensation of pleasure creeps over my body.

  “I’m going to eat you a-fuckin’-live.” He pulls my underwear away and does just that, burying his face between my legs and licks me until I’m squirming. His tongue is relentless, the strokes strict and ruthless against my burning flesh. He passes over my clit again and again, dipping the tip of his tongue into my entrance every so often just to trip me up.

  With one hand I’m gripping the sheets, with the other I’m gripping his hair. “Oh God, oh fuck, oh God,” I cry out as I get wetter and wetter and closer and closer to a screaming orgasm. And just when that sweet and spicy sensation of ecstasy starts to tingle inside me, Gerard stops. “Oh, God, please no.” I sound like a junkie, my body going into immediate withdrawal.

  “As much as I want to make you come all over my face, it’s my cock I want you addicted to.”

  I don’t think I need his cock for that. I may already be addicted to him. All of him. Every inch, every part.

  Gerard kneels above my trembling body, unbuckling his belt in a methodically slow way. He’s tormenting me. He knows how wound up I am. Knows I need him. Knows I want him.

  Gerard reaches over into his nightstand with his pants unzipped and still hanging off his hips. He produces a sleeve of condoms and tosses them onto the bed.

  “We going to use all those?” I make a snarky joke.

  “If we’re lucky.” Gerard pushes his pants down thighs, his erection popping free. I instinctually spread my legs, my need for him insatiable.

  “Do you want me, Kristen?” he asks as he strokes himself.

  “Yes,” I don’t hesitate to answer.

  “Good.” Gerard rips a condom off the sleeve, tears it open, and covers himself all while I slowly come apart at the seams.

  He isn’t quick to attack me like I was expecting. Instead, he runs his fingertips up the inside of my thighs, as if inspecting his new piece of property.

  Should I feel self-conscious right now? Why is he looking at me like that? Too much time is passing and too many questions are flying.

  “Gerard,” I sigh, hoping to prompt him.

  He doesn’t say a word. He just slips a finger inside me and pumps his hand slowly. So damn slowly. I moan. I whine. I fuss. He’s tormenting me.

  “You’re so fucking wet.” He leans down and sucks my clit. “And so fucking sweet.” His tone is almost reverent.

  “And so fucking impatient.” I bow on the bed.

  “I thought you wanted me to fuck you slow and make it mean something?”

  “Is that what you're doing?” I exhale heavily.

  “I thought I was. I don’t really do slow. I don’t really make love either.”

  Well, ain't that a bitch. My own words are biting me in the ass.

  “Don’t worry about slow or making love. Just show me who you are.”

  “You may never speak to me again if I do that.” He pushes his finger in deep, and I see stars.

  “Let me be the judge of that,” I pant. “I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

  I hope.

  Gerard withdraws his hand and then does something completely unexpected. He drops a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Get up.” He pulls on my arm. “Turn around grab the top of the headboard.”

  I look at him funny, but I do as he instructs. The headboard isn’t terribly large, but it is high enough to where my body is semi stretched out. I’m on display in nothing but my bra, dangling against cool leather.

  “Fuck.” Gerard paws all over me, groping my ass, my thighs, my hips, coming around to squeeze my breasts. He massages them roughly as he rubs his rock-hard erection against my lower back. “I’m gonna fuck you, and I’m gonna fuck you hard.” He pulls at my bra, forcing my tits to pour out of the material. I feel a bit dirty and sexy and naughty. But most of all needy.

  After a few plucks of my nipples, Gerard grips one of my hips. I feel him tease the entrance of my pussy with the tip of his cock, and then I momentarily black out when he pile-drives inside me. I snap my head back and gasp from the force — and the life-threatening pleasure. Gripping the edge of the headboard tighter, I hold on for dear life as Gerard begins a savage dance inside me. The first three strokes of his cock are slow and deliberate, but after that, all bets are off as each and every thrust becomes harder, faster, unrestrained. Before long, the bed is shaking, Gerard is grunting, and I am on the verge of a climax of epic proportions. My body is on a rollercoaster of rapture, running wild and free, and yet at the same time suppressed.

  My hips ache as Gerard digs his fingers into my skin, the force of his pelvis thrusting me forward each and every time. I don’t care about the pain though. The only thing I can wrap my mind around is the continual punch against my core. It’s like someone is trying to bang down a door, and my orgasm is the only thing that can blow it off the hinges.

  Then it happens. I feel it, the prick inside me. The igniter of my climax. The whole room heats up as a dead weight draws down right between my thighs.

  “Fuck, Gerard, fuck, fuck!” I erupt as I spontaneously combust. A delirium of pleasure sucking me under faster than a riptide. Tears roll down my cheeks as Gerard fucks every ounce of my orgasm out. Squeezing every drop from me he can until I can no longer support my own weight. I lose my grip on the headboard and slump into Gerard’s arms. Kissing my cheek and my neck from behind, he lays me on my stomach, props my hips up and continues to pound away until he’s grunting and groaning so loudly I know he’s close. Even after the bodily exertion, he still feels amazing, and I still want more. I want him to come inside me and let me hear how good it feels.

  “Kristen, fuck, Kristen.” It’s as if he heard me. “I’m gonna come baby, right inside you.” His pelvis jerks hard and then he stills, a pained sound escaping from his mouth. It’s so fucking sexy it makes me shiver

  Shiver in a way I haven’t in so long, maybe even never.

  Gerard gently allows his body to give way, laying his full weight on top of me. The two of us settle on the mattress, hot, panting, exhausted, and downright sated. Wrapped in Gerard’s arms, I drift off with the thought. Without a worry. This was definitely a first date I wasn’t expecting.

  3

  Gerard

  I scroll through the pictures Kristen sent me of the new bouquet of flowers. It’s become somewhat of a ritual. After every date — every night spent together — I send her something new. It's been a few months since our distinguishing first date. Since that night, we have been inseparable. Well, as inseparable as we can be. Kristen is one busy woman. Constantly going to meetings and traveling, I have to fight for every second, but each battle is worth it, because when I’m with her, I’m a different man. There’s a happiness inside me I’ve never believed in. A peace I didn’t know existed. I’m pushing fifty years old, and I thought I experienced the spectrum, but once again life proves to me I don’t know jack shit.

  “Gahhh.” Two bodies slam into the bar to next to me.

  “Hey, Pops.” Ky smiles with Breaker in a headlock. Rough housing is nuthin’ uncommon around here. I take a look around the dimly lit room. This bar has been my home for as long as I can remember, and now it’s my son’s home too. I’ve tried to picture Kristen here time after time, but she never fits in. She’s too beautiful, refined, classy, successful — I can go on and on — for this dumpy place. Hell, for this dumpy guy, but for some reason, she has taken a liking to me, and I sure as hell have taken a liking to her. A liking so strong and potent she makes me question what’s truly important in my life. Makes me question what I really want and who I really want to be. An MC prez is really all I ever saw myself being. It’s the world I grew up in. It was a title bestowed to me like a prince from a king. Only my riches were drugs and guns and easy women. I did solid work trying to clean this club’s image up, but once a biker, always a biker, and always a reputation you shall have. Not that it’s ever bothered me. I like riding on the rugged side of the road. I like putting people on edge when I walk into a room. I like intimidation. It’s who you have to be when you’re the leader of a bunch of recklooses like these.