Beauty & The Biker

I take my time cleaning up and getting dressed. What’s he going to do? Put me back in his dungeon!

When I get to the dining room Tristian is busy taking a call and holds his finger up signaling for me to wait before taking my seat.

I glance around the large room. The table takes up most of the space. Such a large table for one man. I count twelve chairs.

“I’ll be in touch soon,” he says ending the call. “Come sit.” He scoots his chair back, motioning me to sit in his lap.

Reluctantly, I do as he wishes. He wraps one arm firmly around my waist and picks up his fork with the other. He cuts me a bite from his stack of pancakes and feeds me.

“Why are you being nice to me?” I ask once I have swallowed and had a drink of orange juice.

“I told you. If you follow my rules, I will take care of you. I’m not as awful as you think.”

“I know you aren’t Tristian. The problem is that you don’t.” I know he has good in him.

His response is shoveling another bite into my mouth before taking a bite for himself. There is something so intimate about the moment we are sharing. Mama always said a man who feeds you from his own plate and gives you more than he takes for himself is a man who will always treasure you and provide for you, because he cares more about your wellbeing than his own.

I don’t believe this is what she had in mind for me. But oddly, I am enjoying this side to Tristian, if only he was always this way. His thumb brushes up and down my spine with tender affection as he continues to feed me. There are many things I’d like to ask him but I don’t want to ruin the moment. This is one of the rare times when the good in him is shining through.

We finish our shared breakfast in a comfortable silence and he goes into his library to attend to whatever it is he does while I dust and sweep in some of the spare rooms that never seem to get any use. Most of the furniture is covered in white sheets. It is kind of sad for such a big ol’ home with so much history to go to waste. I wonder what happened to his family? I know he was an only child but surely he has relatives.

It must have been so lonely growing up here as an only child. My sisters drive me crazy, and we fight, but I couldn’t imagine my life without them. I hope they are taking good care of our father. Thank goodness Elsabeth lives next door to him. She can check in on him daily.

Checking the clock, it is already past midday. I suppose I should check in with Tristian and see if he needs me to do anything more today.

I hope he is still in a good mood when I find him.

After a full sweep of the downstairs I take my search to the second floor. Most of the doors seem to be locked and require a key to enter them. Taking my chances, I twist his doorknob and it opens. Taking a deep breath, I push the door forward. I don’t know what he keeps hidden away in here. I don’t know what he will do for breaking his rule. Just as I am g

etting ready to peek inside, I hear the thundering of his boots coming up the stairs.

Quickly, I pull his door shut and dart to my door to make the sound seem as if I just came from my room.

He reaches the top of the stairs and is staring down the hall at me with a glare. OH SHIT! Does he know I was just about to invade his privacy? I stand frozen in place unable to look away from him as he grows closer.

“Here you are, let’s go get lost for a while. You could use some fresh air and the escape.”

Okay, so maybe he doesn’t know. Or this could be a trick. I don’t exactly trust him.

**

Outside, I wait patiently for Tristian to pull up on his motorcycle.

When he comes to a stop in front of me he is smiling and it makes me wonder what he has planned.

He scoots further back on his seat and tells me to secure my long hair. I happened to find a hair tie in the downstairs bathroom. I don't know who it belongs to but I washed it off in the sink and made it mine. I style my hair into a long messy braid but it does the trick.

Tristian grabs the end of my hair and tucks it into the back of my dress for me. “Don’t want it getting caught in anything,” he explains.

Minutes later I am oddly surprised that he meant what he said, but I didn’t have this kind of ride in mind. Tristian has my back pressed against his handlebars and my legs straddling his crotch. I am wrapped around him tightly holding on for dear life with my cheek pressed to his.

We are traveling the road leading away from the mansion at ungodly speeds as the road winds and bends. The trees are nothing but a blur. The tighter I hold on, the faster we go. It’s almost like flying. Tristian makes me feel as if I’ve grown wings. My hair has come loose and is flying all around us.

“Can you see,” I yell out.

“Don’t worry, I know this road, I can drive it blindfolded.”

His words do not make me feel very safe, but I am trusting him not to do anything stupid.