When I needed to let go of my emotions, I tended to turn into a waterfall. Archer, on the other hand, was like a drip from a faucet. He would take forever to fill up a sink, but it would happen at its own pace.
I grinned at the thought, losing it a second later when realization hit me in the belly, the chest too, in the form of a deep and longing ache. Archer had been asking me for two days what made my body hum for a man, and I’d finally figured out what my answer was.
It wasn’t a hot body or a smart brain.
Not even a man who knew how to make a woman come.
It was simply a man who opened himself up to the world and the people in it, unknowingly giving them pieces of his heart when he wasn’t trying to. And Archer had done exactly that. Not that I’d tell him. Not that I’d make an actual move on him either. I’d already made that mistake when I’d tried to kiss him. Oh, and don’t even get me started on the other thing we’d done, though technically our hands had never done any actual touching.
Plain and simple, Archer and I would never work. I could tell he knew that too. Our lives would go in different directions once I got to my mom, and any sort of cushion I had back in Rockford with the Red Dragons would be ending.
“There are showers here.” Archer pointed to a sign at the rest stop that was hanging next to the front door.
“Oh, thank God.” I was just desperate enough to risk what might be waiting for me inside the stalls for a chance to get the mud and sweat off my body right now.
“You’re good with taking your clothes off inside a place like this?” he asked, lifting his brows.
“Yes, I’m not a prissy princess.” I rolled my eyes, despite my revelation just minutes ago. This back and forth we shared? It was easy, and I needed to refocus on that path with him, staying there once and for all.
“Can you be quick?” He settled his bike against the side of the building then rubbed a hand through his hair as he took me in.
“I can be very quick.”
His lips twisted like a dirty joke was on the tip of his tongue. But, to my surprise, Archer didn’t make one. “Alright. Let me see if I can’t get some intel on where to get a new bike or transportation first. Then I’ll go in with you and shower too.”
“Into the shower?” I held my breath for a second too long, nearly choking.
“The bathroom, not the shower itself. They got walls in those things, I’m sure, so it’s not like I’ll be able to sneak a look at ya.” He winked.
“Yeah.” I paused, studying him. “I don’t think I can trust you.”
“I’m serious.” He grinned, despite his words. “Scout’s honor, I won’t look at your tits.”
“I doubt you were ever even a scout.”
“No. I wasn’t.” Archer shrugged one shoulder. “But it sounds better than saying biker’s honor, don’t you think?” He wrapped a loose arm around my neck, guiding me to the front of the building.
Unable to help myself, I inhaled his all-consuming scent—cigars and spices. My body heated at the thought of burying my nose further into his neck.
So much for refocusing.
Twenty minutes later, after I’d consumed a cinnamon roll and read through a trashy celebrity magazine in an attached McDonald’s, Archer crouched down in front of the chair I was sitting in and dangled a key in my face that said Bathroom 32.
“You ready for this?” A blond lock of hair fell over his mischievous eyes, and I could imagine him right then as a toddler getting into all sorts of trouble. Not that he’d changed all that much, I was sure.
Nervous for some reason, I swiped the key from his hand and stood at the same time he did, not willing to move away when our chests bumped together. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”
He reached down, taking my wrist in one of his hands. Calloused fingers grazed my pulse point, back and forth, before he winked at me and said, “Come on.” Then he pulled me behind him down a long hall to the left.
Ignoring his attempts to control me, I said, “Did you figure something out with your bike?”
“Yep.”
I waited for him to explain, but he didn’t. The closest town was forty miles away, and unless we wanted to hitch a ride with a trucker—which I was adamantly against—we were kind of screwed as far as what to do travel-wise. Archer had been on the phone with someone from a tow shop while I ate. He absolutely refused to get picked up by a Lyft or an Uber, like I suggested, claiming he had it handled. But his handled and my handled were very different things.
Regardless, I was too tired and dirty to argue right now.
We found bathroom thirty-two easily enough. A family room, it said on the outside of the door. Supposedly it was big enough for more than one person, but private enough so we didn’t have to share the same facility with strangers. Fraternization was against the rules, according to a mile-long list of them that sat outside the door on the wall. From the smirk on Archer’s face, I could tell he’d just seen that rule himself. Still, he didn’t make any comments or jokes. Now that I thought about it, since last night he’d kept his sex jokes on lockdown, even when I’d opened myself up for one earlier. I should have appreciated it. But deep down, I kind of missed them. Whatever that said about me, I didn’t really care right now.
We were sweaty and muddy, in desperate need of transportation, and with his reaction last night I shouldn’t have even been thinking those thoughts anyways. But when he’d left I hadn’t felt hurt or embarrassed; I’d just wanted him to come back. Sometimes my brain worked in mysterious ways, and when it decided it wanted something, it didn’t tend to let go of that want until I followed through with whatever it was.
It was the scientist in me, I supposed.
I jumped in front of him, ready to fight for the first shower, but the sight of the space before me left my mouth agape and my throat drying up. It was so… so nice in there. Nicer than the bathrooms at the club. Nicer than the one in my own house, actually. Tiled walls, dark browns and light tans… a tall shower on the right, a wall in between that and a small lounge area with a leather couch accompanied by a sink.
“What is this place?” I asked in wonder.
Archer stepped up behind me and lowered his mouth to my ear. “An expensive-ass bathroom is what this is.”
I shivered from the sensation of his lips pressed to my ear but ultimately turned around to face him, putting a foot between us. “I thought the shower is free for travelers?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “It is. But all the private rooms were taken. I had to pay a dude a hundred and fifty to trade. Otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to be in the room together.”
“Why would you do that?” I frowned. “You could’ve just stood outside the door while I showered.”
“And risk you running when I’m taking a shower?” He quirked a brow then pushed around me to go to the sink. “Don’t think so.”
“You still think I’m going to run?” I scowled at the back of his head.
“Maybe.”
It shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did, Archer not trusting me. We were likely—hopefully—never going to see each other again after we got to Kentucky. But for some reason, I was hurt that he still thought I was going to ditch him. Yes, I’d been tempted to run when he’d found me on the bus, but now I couldn’t imagine not having him with me for the remainder of this trip. It’s strange how quickly your priorities can change.
Shaking my head, I grabbed my bag and set it down in front of the shower. I heard Archer’s footsteps on the other side of the wall, then his heavy sigh followed when he sat on the couch.
I slid into the stall and undressed, tossing my stuff back out onto my bag a moment later. My thoughts grew heavy as I turned on the water, my mind spinning in directions it shouldn’t have been, only to land on the night before.
The beds.
My hand between my legs and Archer’s hand on his erection as he spoke those dirty words to me that had been
running through my mind since he’d left me alone afterwards. I’d thought for sure he’d taken off on me when he’d left through that door. Up until I’d looked outside a half hour later and found him sitting on the picnic table, his cigar lighting up the night sky.
I shut my eyes at the thought then leaned my head back into the heated water. After lathering up my hair, then rinsing it out, I went to work on my body, rubbing at the caked-mud spots on my arms and ankles most of all.
Before I even realized what I was doing, I settled one palm on the stone wall under the shower head and slowly ran the fingers of my other hand between my breasts, over my stomach, landing just below. God, he’d turned me into a great big ball of lust. The temptation to touch myself was so strong it nearly hurt.
Knowing Archer was on the other side of the wall had me shivering—wondering what exactly he might do if I asked him to forget his worries and fears and to join me in this shower he’d paid an obscene amount of money for. I wanted so much to touch him with my mouth or my hand, for him to touch me too.
God, I wanted that. So much. No matter how angry or frustrated he made me, or how confused my head was whenever we were in the same room together. I wanted to experience the rush of Archer losing control because of me. Even more than that, I wanted to lose control too.
“You alright in there?”
I stiffened at his voice. He sounded close. When I looked down and over my shoulder, I noticed the shadow of his boots beneath the curtain. I licked my lips, inhaling through my nose as I prepped the words on my tongue. I must have lost track of time because the water was already getting cold.
I wanted to tell him: No, I’m not okay. I also wanted to rip open the curtain and grab his leather cut and say straight to his face as I climbed his hard body, I want you. I want you so much it hurts just thinking that I can’t have you.
But I didn’t. More like I couldn’t. Me and him? We were not meant to be.
“Yeah,” my voice cracked. “I’m great.”
Our luck changed for the better a half hour later when we were both clean and exiting the bathroom. A stranger in a motorcycle cut was standing at the other end of the hall.
At the sight of him I stiffened, grabbing the back of Archer’s arm.
“It’s fine,” he told me, squeezing my wrist. “Give me a sec?”
I wanted to go with him, but his eyes urged me to stay put. And from the sight of the big man down the hall with the burly beard, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to argue.
So, I didn’t.
“Heard you need a new ride,” the stranger mumbled as Archer approached.
My lips parted in shock when Archer shook his hand and said, “You heard right.”
They spoke in low tones after that for a good few minutes, exchanging things. Keys, from what I could see, and possibly money too. Five minutes later, the stranger gave me a curt nod and left the hall, while Archer approached me with a wide smile.
“Let’s go, JP. Time’s a wastin’.” He picked my bag up off the floor then headed in the same direction as the stranger.
“Who was that?” I rushed to keep up with him.
He was moving even quicker now, like he couldn’t wait to get out of here—more importantly, away from me.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, first dropping off the bathroom key, then leading me out into the parking lot.
I frowned, not liking the secrets, his change in mood neither.
“Are you sure you can trust him?” I asked, needing to make sure.
“Yes,” he said as we came to a stop beside the bike.
I frowned at it, wondering whose it was. Worse yet, wondering if it was stolen or something like that. “Whose bike is this?” I questioned.
He tied my bag to the side this time, using a leather strap. “This bad boy here belonged to my old man.”
“What?” I jerked my head back. “Your dad’s bike?”
He nodded, tying the bag up with another rope. “You know how some people hoard shit in their houses?”
“Yes.”
“Well, my good ol’ dad hoarded bikes all over the country for safekeeping.” He shrugged. “When he died, they all went to me and an old MC buddy of his. Every once in a while, I need one if I’m somewhere without my bike. Sometimes it’s hours away, sometimes minutes.”
I gasped. “How many bikes are there?”
“Fifty or so. All in the Midwest though, so don’t worry.”
“So you knew there was one close by all along then.”
“No, not at first.” He scrubbed at his jaw, avoiding my eyes. “But I made some calls, like I said.”
“To who?”
“My old man’s friend. He has codes and locations for half of them, and I have the other. My old man was weird as shit.” He laughed though, a fond sound that sent warm shivers up my spine and made me smile. It was obvious he loved his parents a lot.
“Are you always this lucky?” I smiled and looked over the seat. It was wider, which my backside would most definitely appreciate. My thighs, on the other hand, would not enjoy being spread for that long… even if they liked the feel of Archer between them.
“No.” He cleared his throat.
I looked up, expecting to find him smirking at me. But his expression was sober and blank once more. Maybe even a little sad if I looked hard enough.
“No?”
He moved in closer then tucked some wayward, wet hair behind my ear as he whispered, “I’d say that my luck has never been shittier, actually.”
Sixteen
Emily
We made it to the Kentucky border sometime around seven that night. A thunderstorm had chased us over the state line, catching on just now like some kind of ominous warning that said, Run away, don’t look back. Maybe I should have taken nature’s advice and done just that because a trifecta of indecision, fear, and sadness was currently brewing around inside of me.
Come tomorrow, we’d make our way to where my mom was. The problem was, I wasn’t 100 percent convinced I was doing the right thing anymore. Call it nerves. Call it distraction by way of Archer Benedict too. But since we’d left that truck stop, something was bothering me. Big time. And something between me and Archer? It had shifted immensely as well.
After only stopping twice—once to use the bathroom, the other to get some gas and food—I was more than ready to stretch my legs and get off the bike for the night. It was too stormy to head into the mountains for my mom and Pops, but to be honest, I was fine with that. I wanted to stall. Not just because I was nervous, but because I also wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Archer yet.
There was something weighing on him too. I wanted him to trust me like I did him and tell me what it was. I also wanted him to realize that we were the same in so many more ways than either of us ever imagined.
What I wanted, most of all, was to be closer to him.
Archer had grown quiet after we’d left the rest stop. Not that we could talk much while driving. But even during the two times we stopped, he was jumpier than usual, tensing whenever I wrapped my arms around him on the bike too. Maybe he was just getting nervous about finding Pops on his own. Honestly, the idea of trying to take that man down scared me just as much, if not more, than it did him. He was alone. Probably had only one weapon too. Which meant there was more of a chance that he’d die than me.
I blinked at the thought, feeling my eyes warm with tears. Was that what he wanted? To die? Because I wouldn’t let him. He had to go back, even if I never would. Which was why I made my decision when I did, vowing it was the right one. For him.
The town close to where my mom’s last letter had come from was nothing more than a gas station, a couple of houses, and a post office that was closed for the night. There were no hotels, nowhere to stay overnight at all, from the looks of it. It was a ghost town that shouldn’t have been considered a town at all.
With no place to take cover from the impending rain, Archer drove over a small, mostly stable bridge and hea
ded toward what looked to be an abandoned barn on miles upon miles of empty farmland. It was the only shelter we had from the storm, and as the bike began to be overtaken by wind, we both knew we were limited in our choices of where to go.
There were no people in sight, and the homes that were there looked abandoned. The name of the town had been scratched out on the small, green sign—other than a C—and a sudden feeling of unease washed over me. It felt post-apocalyptic here.
The rain began, increasing in speed as Archer drove us down a small, gravel road. It fell on our heads like cold sheets of glass, soaking my shirt, my cardigan, and jeans. I could feel it all, each droplet stinging my skin like liquid fire. It came so quickly I almost forgot about our issues with one another, and wanted nothing more than to find shelter in the tiny barn we were headed toward.
He cut the engine and yelled over the sound of the thunder, “Get off!”
I did just that, following him as he walked the bike toward the back of the barn. There, he propped it up just as lightning unfolded in the sky.
I jumped, automatically reaching for his hand. He let me take it, interlocking our fingers as we rushed back toward the front of the barn, our feet sinking into the muddy field. Without words, we shoved the barn door open together and headed inside as the evening sky seemed to turn black. The wind angrily blew against the boarded-up windows, making whistling noises as the water battled for a way inside.
“Just till the storm passes!” Archer yelled over the increasing rain.
I nodded, shivering as I stood in the middle of the barn, unsure about so many things. Too many to count. The weather, where my mother was, and Archer and me most of all.
With my arms wrapped around my waist, I sat down in the middle of the barn’s floor, only for the rap of thunder to clap harder above us. I shuddered, pulling my knees to my chest. Archer didn’t hesitate to walk over.
“You alright?” he asked, and I swear his voice sounded like he was seconds from crying, but Archer didn’t get emotional. Certainly not over me.
Her Hot Ride: A gripping and sexy biker mc romantic suspense novel Page 15