Cade

It was one of those times I wished to fuck I didn't have a sissy bar.

She hooked her backpack over it, climbed on behind me, and leaned back against it. Not me.

At least those sexy-ass thighs were pressed against mine.

She reminded me of someone I'd tried hard to forget. Same long blonde hair. Slim body. Bad fucking attitude.

What the fuck. I was only giving her a ride, and from first impressions, that was all I'd ever be giving.

She pointed the way, leaning forward each time. That felt nice. And before I knew it she was waggling her finger at a row of shops. I wondered which one she needed to get to so desperately.

Butcher. Bakery. Bookstore. Hair salon.

She either needed meat, buns, an escape from whatever the fuck was eating her, or a trim.

Or a wax, maybe. Fuck. I was glad my mind didn't have a tongue.

"Thanks," she said, grabbing her bag. "I'll Uber back."

"I can wait."

"I'd rather not."

Hmm. OK then.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.