His eyes glanced to her, bent over the bathtub where she was rinsing out the remains of the towel they had draped over their shoulders as they'd buzzed one another. Her rounded full ass, now encased in light pajama pants, jiggled as she moved, cupping and directing the water to rinse all the little hairs from the tub.
She glanced at him over her shoulder and grinned before shutting the water off.
"Feels weird?" she asked, straightening and his eyes dropped to her chest only covered by her thin of t-shirt which declared 'Biker Bitches Know How to Ride'. He caught himself on the inhale when he saw how her nipples were pressing against the fabric.
Brand swallowed and dragged his eyes back to his own reflection. "Yes, I have not had short hair for a very long time."
He felt the heat of her next to him before he moved his eyes, careful to keep them on her face reflected in the mirror.
"Yeah, well, Bay," she said ruefully, raising her own hand to rub on the exposed scalp above her ear. "This is a new look for me too."
Indeed it was.
Her hair, her beautiful hair had been buzzed in an one inch strip from temple to neck on both sides before she'd directed him to pull the long, even length from the crown straight up to cut the ends. It was still beautiful but such a style as to be distinctive, edgy and totally different than how she originally wore it. She called it a 'wide, faux-hawk'. He called it a shame, but still…
It was perfect for hiding as it changed her look completely.
Add to it the heavy eye makeup, the huge, elaborate earrings and, if he'd seen her out in public, even he wouldn't have recognized her.
The 'her' which he would never forget.
She slid an arm around his waist and squeezed before she moved behind him. "We need to apply the tats, baldy. We're burning daylight here."
They'd done all they'd set out to do that morning, up to and including a new motel room on the farthest edge of town. The new motorcycle, a 2010 Harley Electric Glide Classic, in pearl blue was a beauty but he'd known when he'd paid the difference between the price of it and his trade-in that he'd be selling it in a couple of days. Another shame because it was a sweet ride, perfect for how they were traveling.
He had her sprawl out on the width of the bed, facing the drone of the TV while he sat, behind her as he applied the temporary tattoos to cover the skin of both arms. As he worked, he was again thankful that she didn't feel the need to fill the air with a lot of senseless chatter. That was something he still hadn't gotten used to while in America, and he'd been in the country for over fifteen years.
Sometimes his heart craved silence, the kind of silence without people or their machines. Which probably was why he chose to live where he did. The deep woods of Montana provided him with the solitude and quiet his battered, scarred soul needed.
Brand's eyes drifted over her skin as he held the printed sheet against her before wetting the paper. The more he got to know her, the more emotions she stirred inside him. Feelings he'd thought were long dead and gone. Her innocence and obvious lack of knowledge spoke loudly to his protective instincts. And her grateful joy at even the smallest things sent his heart soaring, even though those moments were few and far between. Just like her smiles. Not spread freely. But when carefully given, felt like sunshine against his skin after a week of cold rain.
It took him almost an hour to get her right arm completed before he directed her to shift so he could do the other. Halfway through the procedure on the last bit though, she'd fallen asleep. He took a few moments to watch, noting how her face softened in slumber, her full lips gentling as she slept. Trusting him to keep watch and protect her.
He knew he was considered a cold man. Hell, even Niko had called him an unfeeling bastard just a few days ago. But this dear one, the one he called draga, the sweet thing before him had started a thaw inside he couldn't explain and didn't want to examine. He let his eyes drift lower taking in the full of her breast, the sharp indentation of her waist which was emphasized by the full curve of her hip.
He wanted her.
Wanted to take her, ride her and show her, with gentle moves and slow kisses, that not all men were like those she'd known. To show her pleasure and give her the acceptance he was sure she'd never had before. And, from what Atin had enunciated from the police reports, she'd not had experience with those of his gender who didn't want to use her. Definitely not from her father or brothers, nor from the man who had purchased her.
Purchased.
He could feel the rage begin to build within him again at the thought of anyone, fucking anyone, who believed they'd bought her. Who were deluded enough to consider that by the exchange of money, they received an ounce, a smidgeon of the woman he'd seen in just their few days together.
Brand reached for the next designed piece of paper and bent his head back to his task with a sigh.
*.*.*.*.*
My teeth were biting into the hot wing in time to the blaring music of the roadhouse Brand had taken me for dinner. The food and the music, not to mention the company, had me fully in my 'happy place' and doing a little chair wiggle of delight.
This was so much different, so much better, than being on the bike or stuck in some small room. I was completely over the moon. Not to mention, it was so different from anything I'd actually ever experienced, protected as I was growing up.
I grabbed another handful of napkins and grinned as I wiped my saucy hands and, what I was sure, my messy mouth.
Nope. This was, far and away, one of the best nights of my life. Back home, I wasn't allowed out, even if we'd had the extra money for restaurants, much less the clothes fit to go out in.
Although I didn't look anything like myself anymore. But the person I'd seen in the mirror before we left was someone Bayco wanted to see, if I was interpreting the amount of times his eyes caught and lingered on mine. With me and the different body parts showcased in my new clothes.
Let him look, I thought rebelliously. Whether he admired me or not, wasn't my concern.
He learned towards me, his lips on my ear to be heard over the loud music and crowd. "You are enjoying your food, correct?" he asked.
I pulled back and knew the smile I shot him was beaming as I nodded enthusiastically. I got a dimpled grin in return. His hand, which had been on the back of the side of the booth we were sitting in, dropped to my shoulder and pulled me against him before releasing quickly. As his hand moved away, I felt a sharp pang of disappointment that I put a lid on.
When I was finally done, my plate nothing more than the bare bones of the wings I'd devoured, I carefully maneuvered my purse over my body and shifted my hips against his. "Bathroom," I shouted.
"I will escort you," he shouted back as he turned and stepped into the aisle that was only partially clear of people standing around the dance floor. He stopped the waitress and I saw him point towards our table and lean towards her, his lips moving. She nodded and moved on as he turned back to me, holding out a hand.
I held both of mine up to demonstrate I didn't want to touch him with the sticky fingers the food had created.
I got a full smile with a full dimple as he grabbed the sides of my waist and, holding me in front of him, we moved in and out of the people who spilled out onto the little runway between the seating and the teeming space. The ladies' room was just as packed as the dance floor, and I had to wait for a place at one of the sinks, sharing the mirror with other women primping right along with me.
Bay was waiting for me just outside the door and I won't lie. The sight of his smile when he spied me rebuilt the tiny burgeoning flame inside that I'd been trying to stomp out ever since I'd woken up in his arms.
He led me, as before, in front of him by my hips until we were again at our booth, only it had been cleared of our meal. There was now only a sweating bottle of beer and a glass of orange juice where our plates had been. I slid in and felt him follow.
I glanced at him over my glass and felt my breath catch as our eyes collided. My he
art skipped a beat and that little flame inside began to put out heat.
Ain't gonna happen, I warned myself, though the caution didn't carry as much strength as it had before.
"Are you having a good time?" he asked, his beautiful mouth again next to my ear as he settled, his arm once more on the top of the red leatherette of our seats. I got a whiff of soap, deodorant and another aroma I think was just plain, old Bay. He smelled good.
I twisted so I could copy his movement of mouth to ear. "Oh hell, yeah. Bay, this is awesome!"
Both our heads pointed towards the dancers, and I couldn't help the way my eyes traced over his profile. He really was quite a hottie, even with the short hair. From the way other women's eyes turned to him again and again, I didn't think I was the only one with that opinion.
He pointed his chin at one of the older couples out on the dance floor. I dragged my eyes to them and saw how well they moved together.
"Bet they've been doing that a long time to be that good!" I yelled, but I wasn't sure if he heard me over the swell of the music.
His head began to turn, but either I didn't move away fast enough or he turned too quickly, because the next thing I knew, our lips grazed one another's when we moved. As our mouths touched, time slowed and the noise of the music and crowd became muffled. I didn't move my face beyond that point but just raised my eyes to see he was staring back at me. And his look created more of a connection between us than just the touch of pink skin to strawberry-flavored gloss.
Holding my gaze, his head tilted as his moist mouth slanted, unhurriedly sliding his lips over mine. I didn't move a muscle, didn't even blink. Afraid, so flipping afraid.
I just wasn't sure if I was afraid he would stop or continue.
I felt his lips press forward to caress mine again, compressing a bit harder. Oh, god. He was kissing me.
Deliberately.
Kissing me.
Our eyes remained open as our lips slowly touched and slid together. It was like neither one of us was sure if we should stop or carry on with what we were doing. Almost like we were waiting on the other to call a halt.
His tongue slid slowly against the seam of my mouth as a silent question.
My mouth opened before my head even realized I'd surrendered. The warmth of his lips, the sensation of his tongue curling as it danced with mine, caused a giddiness inside. It took that slow steady heat which had been building within me and sent sparks everywhere. My nipples tightened and I felt the flesh between my legs soften, moisten at just the full taste of him.
His hand pressed between my shoulders, pulling me closer as he shifted so we were chest-to-chest, and I couldn't help my moan as we came together, mouths fused.
I'd never had a kiss like this.
Sure, I'd had a boy's lips on mine, a hesitant tongue in my mouth before. But they were just that. Boys. I'd never experienced a man's kiss. A true kiss that turned your insides to mush, making your mind melt with nothing more than the stroke of his tongue against yours, the feel of his heart beating next to your own.
The movement of Bayco's mouth slowed as he began to straighten his head.
No, no, no, one part of my mind cried.
One kiss does not change the plan, the other half of my brain replied.
I felt the pressure lessen before he raised his head, stopping only to drop a soft peck on my still partially parted lips.
"Want to dance?" he asked, his mouth close, almost touching mine as he spoke.
I guess I must have nodded or given some kind of 'yes' answer because, before I knew it, we were on the dance floor, crushed in between the other couples there. It took more than a few seconds for my mind to clear but as it did, I recognized Bay was pressed against me, one hand on my waist, his other holding my much smaller one.
Oh, okay. The Texas Waltz.
I knew the steps to this, having had my mother teach me on the worn linoleum of our kitchen after one or the other of us had been subjected to either the sharp bite of a tongue or the thud of a fist. Even with her bit of a limp from her artificial appendage, she was still able to keep the rhythm to the songs that played on the old radio propped in the windowsill.
But dancing with Bay was a whole different kettle of fish than dancing with my limping mama.
It wasn't only the soft kisses he dropped on my forehead, cheeks and neck as we moved. It was the feel of his chest, his shoulder where my hand rested and the hardness pressed into my hipbone. It was the feel of our thighs as we stepped, the slithering of our jeans as we shuffled within the crowded space. I had no clue what music was playing beyond the harmony our body's movements had created. That was, until the rhythm changed and he expertly swung me out and brought me back in to tuck me at his side.
I stumbled before my feet found the two-step he'd led me into performing. But this wasn't like the dance we'd done in Texas. This was slower and, because our eyes were on each other, became something erotically promising. I stumbled more than a couple of times due to the intensity between us before Bayco finally steered us back to the table, signaling our waitress when we hit the walkway.
My stomach jumped when I realized we were leaving.
I knew I had only a few minutes to decide if it would be better for me to push him away or pull him closer. As he handed me up onto the Electro-glide's seat, I hadn't a clue which choice I'd make.
Chapter Twelve
In all their time together, this was their longest journey. The four miles from the bar to their room seemed to take forever, at least in Brand's mind. If he'd had his way, and she'd been any other girl, she would've been bent over the seat of the new bike in the parking lot. Taking the full length of him as she moaned sweetly. Just like she'd done when he'd simply taken her luscious mouth there in the booth of the roadhouse.
His new shorts underneath the new jeans were scratchy, giving a message to his fully extended cock. A meaning that went straight to his brain. Which probably would've been drowned out by the sweet feel of her pussy pressed against his back. But the new bike had her seated above him, her knees pressed almost up to his armpits. It was a better ride for her, he knew. But he missed the other, the feel of her gripping him with both arms and legs as the motorcycle pulsed beneath them both.
When he parked and disembarked, he missed the slow slide of her crotch against his hips as he shifted, but he caught her wide eyes this time, luminous in the reflected glow of the lights of the walkway of the hotel.
Eyes speaking of want, of need.
The yearning he'd created with only a deep kiss and the press of their bodies as he'd led them in a dance.
Wanting more.
Something he was more than willing to give.
Her back was against the motel room door as his lips again captured hers when the key card read green.
The jolt as their bodies met, after a few short steps, at the side of the bed.
There was no sound between them as he unbuttoned her jean jacket. No other sound was heard, other than dual slide of his leather jacket and her hoodie as they undressed each other, not thinking of anything beyond the need to be skin to skin.
The shifting as he toed of his boots, she flicked her small heeled sandals off sending them to a corner unseen.
It was hands reaching for each other's t-shirts, the snick and release of her bra before their mouths again fused, naked chest to naked chest as they moved and moaned. Almost by mutual agreement, their actions slowed as their hands began a blind exploration of the skin uncovered. The hills and valleys of each other's torsos, fingers lingering to caress the areas, which caused a reaction in the other.
He fumbled with her new studded belt. Her own fingers slid, bumping over the ridges of his abs as she sought the fastening of his jeans. A pop with another zip and he was pushing layers of fabric down, releasing the sweet smell of her arousal.
While his cock demanded her naked at the soonest possible moment.
Her hands let go of his fly before sliding to the sides of his hips to
press outwards, to free him from the confines of the stiff jeans and new boxers. He felt her soft hands try to reach, to encircle his hard length as soon as it jumped, almost thankful to be set free from its unforgiving confines.
"Oh, Bay," he heard her breathe as he stepped back to shoot the fabric off and down. He pressed her back, his hands on her hips until she sank onto the mattress. He yanked, hearing the tinkle of her belt buckle as it jangled at his sharp movements to get her naked.
"Reese," he murmured, using only her name to try and explain the quickness that was inside him, causing the urgency of his fingers. Finally, he was able to slide off her jeans as he moved his hands down.
"Kiss me again, Bay," she moaned as their bodies met, her open legs creating a natural furrow, a space for him to fit into.
"Oh, damn," he heard her moan, her full lips a haven for the lust unfurling between them. He felt her hips rise to stroke his cock and he couldn't help but to press, to grind into her.
"But…" she breathed against his mouth.
Wait… what?
He stilled and then felt her do the same beneath him.
Brand pulled back, feeling a hesitancy in the body he was on top of, her feminine curves pressed against him.
"We probably shouldn't be doing this," she whispered, her beautiful, brown eyes catching his in the light of the partially closed bathroom door. A light they'd forgotten to turn off in their hurry to leave.
"We could stop if you want, my draga," he murmured, moving his chest to feel the sharp points of her breasts press into him. "Although, to be truthful, it would be very, very difficult."
There were more than a few seconds when she blinked up into his eyes.
"But we need to consider…" she started, then pressed her lips together tightly when he slid the hard length of himself against her moistening cleft, her hips rising in response. "Oh, Baby…" she moaned and her legs, those beautiful smooth thick thighs, moved upwards, capturing his hips just as he'd imagined.
Hiding in Plain Sight Page 9