Chapter 25 #2
Her eyes widen. “Oh, we can’t. You haven’t got any leathers.”
“Don’t worry, I bought more. They’re already here.” I nod toward the closet.
“Good.” She grimaces. “The 5 is long, straight, and dull as fuck.”
“The 101 goes along the coast. It’ll add an hour, but be way more fun.”
“Practically a day there, a day back. We wouldn’t have time to do much unless we stayed two nights.”
“Works for me,” I say quickly, before she can change her mind.
She pauses with her fork halfway between plate and mouth, like she just realized what she said. Then takes the mouthful, chewing thoughtfully.
“Should have room in my bag for at least a few toys from my drawer,” I add innocently, and she chokes and goes for a gulp of OJ.
I pretend not to notice, pointing my fork at her.
“You may need a change of clothes for a ride that long.” I tilt my head.
“What were you planning to wear back to your place?”
Her reaction is a thing of beauty. Eyes fluttering wide. The momentary stillness. The glance away as her blush comes, hitting her forehead before her cheeks, flushing her skin all the way down to her neck.
It’s as I suspected: her raincoat thing was a spur-of-the-moment decision, not something she gave much thought to. Impulsive, like her natural strength and ferocity collided with her sexual innocence. Now I’ve had the thought, I’m certain that’s what happened. My hellcat is a dichotomy.
“I guess I’ll… get an Uber back,” she mutters, not sounding in the least bit happy about the idea.
“The hell you will,” I reply before I even finish processing that. There’s no way I’m letting another man see her wearing just that raincoat.
She glances at me, biting her lip again, a complex mixture of emotions in her gaze. I was a bit abrupt—it came out almost like a growl, my possessive side showing.
I take a subtle breath. “What I mean is, I have a pickup in the garage. I’ll drive you.”
“Oh.” She looks relieved. “Thank you, that would be great.” A pause. “So what, you’ll leave your pickup at my place, and we go on the bikes?”
It’s not ideal, but it’s workable. “Sure. Either that, or I have to drive it back here, get my gear, then Uber back to yours.” I shake my head. “It’ll take too long.” I’ll take a ramp, too. That’ll let me bring both the truck and my bike back when I need to.
“We could Uber up together,” she says quietly. “It’s the practical solution, and I wouldn’t mind so much if you’re with me.”
“No chance,” I reply. It’s not even a consideration.
No one gets to see her like that, except me.
I’d probably punch the guy out if he even looked at her—and he would.
Then we’d end up in my pickup anyway, with the possibility of an assault charge to explain to Mercer.
I shake my head. “I’ll drive us, leave it there, and worry about the logistics later. ”
“All right.” She gives me a tentative smile. “Thank you.”
Once we’ve finished breakfast, Raven goes for a shower.
I want to climb in with her, but I know we’ll get nothing done for the rest of the day if I do.
I’m keen to get on the road to San Fran instead; that way, I have her to myself for three days and two nights.
I pull my kit together while she’s in the bathroom, then go for a shower myself when she’s done.
When I walk out, she’s back in her heels and raincoat, and I stop and stare at her. The blood rushes to my cock, tenting the towel wrapped around my waist.
Her eyes flick down as she notices, then away, then back to me, focused with an effort on my face. Another blush begins to form. “Uh…” she murmurs, “…the rest of your clothes are too big.”
I’ve taken three paces toward her before I can get myself in check. My heart’s racing, and I really want to bend her over the couch again, slide that damn raincoat up to her hips, and bury myself in her tight, sweet pussy. I clear my throat, take a breath and then another, and drag my eyes away.
“You have no idea the effect you have.”
“Actually,” she demurs, “the effect is kinda obvious. It’s… um… holding the towel up by itself.” A playful smile forms, like she’s owning the moment, and that’s sexy too, in a completely different way. “Go get dressed, Romeo. Otherwise we’re not going anywhere today.”
I let the towel drop. “Would that be so bad?”
She stares at me, running her eyes down my body to my cock, then licks her lips. It’s not blatant, but a subconscious, involuntary thing, and that’s somehow worse. Fuck. I’m not sure I could get any harder right now.
Then her blush intensifies, and I’m wrong. She’s the most arousing creature I’ve ever had in my life.
She turns away first. “Put some clothes on, please. I’m naked under here, and I don’t want to make a…”
Mess. Down her thighs. Of my pickup.
She doesn’t say it, but I hear it clearly. Judging from the way her cheeks flush, her throat, even the top of her chest tingeing red, she does too. She gives a cute little squeak of consternation, and walks to my window, staring outside with her back to me. Doing her best to ignore me.
It would be more convincing if she wasn’t trembling with the strength of her desire.
I shake my head and laugh. “I hope we can concentrate enough to ride.”
“Won’t be a problem for me,” she mutters. I’m not sure I fully believe her, but she sounds like she’s taking it as a slur on her professionalism, and in that light, I do believe her. She’s totally focused when she’s on her bike.
Her response is enough of an example to get myself back in control, and I head into my bedroom to get dressed.
Clothes in a bag, a few toys from my dresser drawer, and a glance toward my closet, and the burner phone buried beneath it.
It’s Thursday; I’ll be missing another Saturday check-in.
But Mercer knows the score now. They’re a stupid risk anyway; I’ll have to get them cancelled.
A minute later, bag over my shoulder, leathers over my arm, we’re ready to go.
“Is that all you’re bringing?” she asks.
“My helmet and bike are at your place.” I tilt my head. “It’s safe, right?”
She looks offended. “Of course it is.”
I raise my free hand. “Sorry. Of course it is. Natural reaction.”
“I get it, don’t worry. I’d feel the same.”
And that’s the truth, right there: we are the same, in so many ways. But different enough for it to matter. She’s not just the most alluring woman I’ve ever seen, she’s my soulmate.
That realization lands hard. This isn’t just love, this is commitment. Fully at odds with the Bureau, with Mercer, with who I am.
Going native? The thought makes me laugh. I’m so far past native that I am Hale. And the reason is wearing nothing more than heels and a raincoat.
But that undermines her. It’s not just sex, it’s not even really how well-suited we are.
It’s worse than that, and better too: it’s obsession.
She’s all I care about, and everything else has to fit in with that.
Renner, Mercer, my job, my life—it all takes second place to ensuring that I walk out of this with Raven at my side.
Right here, right now, the promise I make to myself is simple: from this point forward, Raven’s mine, whatever it takes.