23. Chapter 23
Chapter 23
Nate
B y Monday, I’m out of my mind wanting to see Adalie again. She doesn’t work on Mondays during wedding season, so I’d ensured Dani didn’t need to come back to get anything from my house after school today, telling her I’m going out after work to get something special for her birthday. Which is the truth, just not the whole truth.
I finish work early and get home, pacing while I wait for Adalie to arrive. When she knocks, I open the door, pulling her inside and pressing her into it, lifting her so her legs wrap around my waist as my mouth crashes into hers.
My hands slide along the fabric of her jeans.
I growl against her lips. “You’re not wearing a dress today.”
She laughs. “You said we’re taking the bike.”
I groan as she arches toward me, causing my dick to harden instantly.
“As much as I’d like to keep going,” she says, pausing to kiss me again, “if we’re going to some stores, we need to leave before we’re too late. You said we’re going out to Langley. That ride will take about an hour.”
I kiss her again, slowly lowering her to the ground.
“You’re staying here tonight, right?” I ask.
“Yes.”
Her answer is the only reason I’m able to let her go.
“Come upstairs,” I say. “I’ll tell you what I’m thinking. You’ve seen Dani’s bedroom.”
She nods.
“The other one is a guest room. Mom stays there whenever she’s in town. But this area is open.” I stop at the top of the stairs. Adalie stops next to me and looks around the flex space. Dani’s bedroom is above the kitchen and the spare room is on the opposite side above the living room, so the area between is pretty much unused. There are a few windows letting in plenty of natural light, just like Adalie’s art room. “I was thinking of turning it into an art space like what you have. Taylor and I are going to build a desk that goes across the whole wall here. But I don’t know what else to include. And do you think there’s enough space?”
“Oh, yes.” She moves further into the area, walking toward the other end where Dani’s bedroom is. “A table easel would be perfect for this. If she wants to use it, she can set it up on the desk, or if she wants to do something else, she can put it away. And like I said, she could easily bring it to her mom’s place. If you want some suggestions, storage would be a good idea, too. Somewhere to keep different things. Paints, canvases, pencils, sketch pads.”
We talk about her suggestions, what she thinks Dani will need and where it would make sense to put it all.
“There’s enough space here. She and I could work on something at the same time,” she says when we’re done. “Like at the paint night.”
I can see her thinking of all the things she wants to do with Dani when the area is finished. I chuckle, guiding her downstairs. “Come on, princess. Let’s get out of here so we can get back and I can take these pants off you. I know how much you hate pants.”
We go out to the bike, which I left on the street after work, and ride to the art store Adalie had told me about. She brings me inside, holding my hand as she leads me through the aisles, pointing out different supplies Dani could use.
We reach the easels, and she lets go to closer examine each one. “This one is simple,” she says, “but I think Dani could use a bigger one. How much are you willing to spend?”
I shrug. “I don’t know how much they are.”
She laughs. “You can get really expensive. But this one is good, I think. There’s some storage, and it’s adjustable.” She checks the price tag. “It’s not a terrible price, either.”
“If that’s the one, then that’s the one. But since we’re on the bike, I’ll come back on Wednesday to get it after work.”
“Would you mind if I get her a birthday present?” she asks.
I love that Adalie wants to do something nice for my daughter. “What are you thinking?”
“Well, you and Taylor are creating this whole art space. She’s going to need art supplies to stock it. I’d like to get her some.”
I turn her toward me, tilting her chin up. “You’re incredible,” I tell her.
She flips her hair, which doesn’t do anything since it’s tied back in a ponytail for the motorcycle ride. “I know,” she says.
I laugh and kiss her.
As we make our way to the bike, I say, “I wanted to ask if you heard any more from your family.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Yes. Mom called this morning, actually. I mentioned to Elliot that we’re dating, and I guess he told her.”
“I take it she doesn’t approve?”
We stop next to the bike and she turns to me. “I don’t care if she approves, Nate. You wouldn’t be the first thing in my life my parents have disapproved of.”
She smiles at me, but there’s sadness in her eyes and I want to wipe it away. I want to tell her they’re idiots if they can’t see how special she is. But before I can say anything, she says, “Let’s go for a ride.”
So we get on my bike and ride through the traffic to Langley. There are closer stores for motorcycle gear, but this one has a large selection and gives us an excuse for a longer ride.
As soon as we walk in the door, Adalie goes straight to the helmets, specifically to the brightest one on display. She picks it up, turning it around so she can see the whole thing.
“I like this one,” she says.
“No kidding,” I say with an indulgent smile.
She smirks at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I wave at the wall of helmets. “Do you think there’s one that has a bit more colour?”
Her smirk becomes a grin. “No.”
A store associate approaches us. “Can I help you with something?” she asks.
“My girlfriend needs her own gear,” I say, loving the way Adalie looks at me when I say that. “She’s been borrowing some, but we need to get her stuff that fits right.”
“Absolutely. What gear were you thinking?” she asks me.
“Helmet, jacket, and gloves.”
She turns to Adalie. “I see you have a helmet there. Are you looking for that style?”
Adalie shrugs. “I’m not sure what I’m looking for. I just want it to be pretty.”
The associate laughs. “I’m sure we can find something. Come on.”
They chat for a bit, going over the different styles and sizes of helmets. She tries a couple on and decides on a black one with a neon purple and pink paint-splatter pattern. We move to the gloves, and she chooses a pair that she says is burgundy but looks kind of red to me. Unfortunately, she can’t decide on a jacket.
“I know I should get one, but I don’t like any of these,” she says. “And they’re all expensive. I don’t want to spend this much on something I don’t like.”
“We still have Taylor’s old one.” I gesture to the jacket she’s wearing. “We can check out a few more places for something you like better.”
“What’s upstairs?”
“Bikes.”
She grins up at me. “Can we go see?”
That smile gets me every time. I can’t help kissing her before answering. “Why? You thinking of getting your own? Don’t want to ride with me anymore?”
“I just want to look.”
We give her helmet and gloves to the associate to hold at the register and I wrap my arm around her waist, matching her pace up the stairs.
“Whoa,” she says when we reach the upper floor. “There’s so many up here. This one is kind of like Taylor’s bike.” She points to a Honda.
I nod. “It’s a roadster like his. But Taylor rides a BMW. They don’t sell those here.”
She looks around the showroom. “They don’t sell Harleys either.”
“They wouldn’t. The Harley dealership is across the parking lot.”
“Would you ever ride something other than a Harley?” She skims her fingers along the seat of a bike before moving to the next one.
“Probably not.”
“Why not?”
“My dad rode a Harley. It makes me feel closer to him, I guess.”
Over the last several weeks of us talking every night, I’ve opened up to her about losing my dad and how much it hurt me. I don’t think I’d realized how much until I started talking about it.
She looks up at me with a soft smile. “That’s sweet.”
“I am not a sweet man,” I tell her, shaking my head.
She turns her body into mine, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Yes, you are.” She rises to her toes and kisses me, but before I can really kiss her back, she continues down the line of bikes. “Do they sell jackets at the Harley store?”
“Yeah. They’re all branded, though. I didn’t think you’d want one that says Harley Davidson on it.”
She shrugs. “It’s not like I’m going to be riding on any other kind of bike.”
Something about the way she says that, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I find myself agreeing. She doesn’t ride on any bike but mine. I stop her, turning her to face me and capturing her lips in a far deeper kiss than the one she’d given me.
When we separate, her face is flushed and her eyes are half-lidded. “What was that for?” she asks.
“I really like the idea that you’re mine.”
“Mmm. Yes, please.” She straightens and lifts her chin, her hand caressing my cheek, smoothing down my beard. “Although, I do want to mention, if I’m yours, that means you’re mine.”
“Sounds perfect.”
We return downstairs where she pays for her things, then we cross the parking lot to the Harley Davidson dealership. I lead her over to the accessories and she looks through a few jackets, but I can tell she’s not liking them any more than the ones we’d seen at the last store. That is until she rounds the display rack and gasps.
“Find something?” I ask.
“Nate,” she says, taking a jacket off its hanger. “It’s purple.”
It certainly is. It’s a darker purple with Harley Davidson 03 embroidered on the back. The zippers are all black and it has armour sewn in the back, shoulders, and elbows.
“I want to try it on,” she says, shoving it at me in her haste to get Taylor’s jacket off.
I chuckle as she hands me the black jacket in exchange for the purple one. She slips it on, zipping it up and pulling her hair out of the collar. It fits her perfectly. She stands in front of the mirror, examining it from different angles.
“Is it comfortable?” I ask.
She nods. “What are these extra zippers for?” She points to two on the front.
“Vents. For if it’s really hot out.”
She casts me a look over her shoulder. “That’s good, right?”
“Yeah. Especially since we won’t be riding much in the winter. You’ll need something you can be cooler in for longer rides in the summer.”
“Like to Squamish again?”
“Or Whistler.”
She smiles at me before turning to the mirror. “I’m not ready to jump off a bridge yet. Is it okay that it’s not leather?”
I tap a knuckle on the armour plate in the back. “That’s what this is for. Taylor wears something like this when he rides. I just prefer leather.”
She turns around, gripping the sides of my jacket and tugging me closer. “That’s good, because you look sexy in it.”
My cock stirs at the way she says that, letting me know it would prefer us both to be wearing nothing at all. I pull her closer, kissing her deeply until she moans.
“Let’s pay for this and get you back to my place, princess.”
Waking with Adalie for the second time confirms I want to wake with her more often. She stretches next to me, her soft body sliding along mine.
“Good morning,” she says. “Is it okay that I’m half draped over you?”
I chuckle. “Adalie, you could be lying on top of me, and I wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’d probably prefer it.”
She shifts, climbing onto me. My morning wood gets harder as her pussy settles over it. She props her chin on her hands, giving me that sweet smile I love so much.
“I could make this happen more, if you want,” she says. “You’re pretty comfy. I’d say good morning to him, too,” she points toward where my cock is pressing into her, “but I’m kind of hungry.”
“Let’s get you breakfast, then,” I say, kissing her and getting up. I pull on a pair of sweats and leave her to get dressed, going to the kitchen where I start a pot of coffee and put water in the kettle to boil. Then I grab out a couple mugs and the tea I’d bought her before.
“You want some tea, right?” I call.
“I usually have black tea in the morning, but peppermint is fine,” she calls back from my bedroom.
“I have to get black tea now?” I ask, glaring down at the offending box.
She laughs. “You don’t have to get anything. Peppermint is fine. I might bring some of my favourite tea if I’m going to spend nights here.”
“What’s your favourite?” I ask, turning as she comes out wearing clean clothes she brought with her yesterday, a pink dress with purple flowers that floats around her knees. The straps are little more than string, showing off her tattoo and the fact she’s going without a bra which is giving me all kinds of ideas.
“It’s a loose-leaf tea from Granville Island Tea Company called Cream of Earl Grey.”
I hear what she’s saying, but I’m far more distracted by her shoulders.
“Adalie?” I say, meeting her at the corner of the kitchen island.
“Hm?”
“Are you wearing underwear?”
She snorts. “Of course I am. I’m going to work.”
I trail a finger along her collarbone and she shivers beneath my touch. “You’re not wearing a bra,” I say.
“Do you have a problem with that?” she asks, her voice breathless.
“The only problem I have is that I can’t strip this dress off you right now to see these perfect breasts.” My hands travel down her shoulders to cup them before I lean down to claim her lips with mine.
I lift her onto the island and her legs wrap around my hips, pulling me close. This is how I’d wanted her yesterday, her legs naked around me, my hands easily able to skim up her thighs under her skirt.
Then my back door opens.
“Whoa,” Taylor says as he comes into the kitchen. “Sorry to interrupt. Should I start knocking?”
“Yes,” I growl.
“No.” Adalie laughs, pushing against my chest. “I need to get going soon, anyway. And someone promised me breakfast.”
I don’t move, keeping my hands on her, watching as my brother moves to the counter to pour a coffee. “Water is boiled. You want me to pour this cup for you, Ad? You don’t mind if I call you that, do you? I heard Derek call you Ad before.”
“Ad is fine,” Adalie says. “Just not Addie. My family calls me Addie, and it makes me feel like a baby.”
She pushes against my chest again and looks at me with exasperation. I guess I’m not making out with her anymore this morning.
I step back, allowing her to slide off the island, but only far enough that when she does, she’s flush against me. She shakes her head and ducks out from where I had her trapped.
I take a seat, Adalie next to me.
“What’s that word?” I ask as Taylor passes her the mug of peppermint tea. “It means one brother kills another?”
“Nate,” Adalie scolds.
But Taylor grins, passing me a mug of black coffee. “Fratricide. Love you, too, brother. Are you making breakfast, or am I?”
“You can make it, since you interrupted me.”
He goes to the fridge, pulling out eggs and bread, making conversation with Adalie as he does. She tells him about the motorcycle jacket she bought, and the helmet. He tells her about the new tattoo he’s getting next week.
I don’t add to the conversation, simply listening. Adalie places her hand on my knee, like she wants me to be part of this but doesn’t want to force me to speak if I don’t want to. I lift her hand, bringing her fingers to my lips for a kiss before placing it back where she’d laid it. She gives me that smile again.
Cockblocking brother aside, I could get used to mornings like this.