Thick (Diamondback MC 8)

“I guess not.” She shrugs her shoulders. Valentina must not be much of a talker. Some men would kill for that, but not me, not in this instance at least.

“Now she’s learnin’.” I squeeze her hip. “Take your pick of food and lead the way, gorgeous.”

“I’ll pay you back when you least expect it.” She takes us to the stand that has a Greek-inspired menu. I could kiss Persephone for coming up with the idea of inviting all of the local food trucks. In the past, we’ve been responsible for cooking all the meat and sides. It sucked not to be able to enjoy our time at the rally when we were working, whether it be putting out proverbial fires, cooking, or making sure people weren’t generally being stupid.

“What are you getting?” she asks.

“A gyro platter. You?” I respond.

“Same, but with pita chips and hummus. I’m sorry in advance, but I love food, and I’m probably going to make a fool out of myself by pigging out.” We walk closer to the window, placing our order, and Valentina flashes her credit card before I can even pay.

“Valentina,” I dip my head down and whisper in her ear, watching her body lock up. Not in a way that she’s creeped the hell out, but in a way that has her legs rubbing together in a turned-on way.

“Yes?”

“Gonna spank that ass for payin’ for our food. Just you wait.” I was reading her right. Her teeth nip at her lower lip, desire blazes in her eyes, and her cheeks turn red with warmth. Not for the first time am I glad as fuck that I set up my motorhome in the field out of the way from the brothers and other campers. I have a feeling I’m going to be getting to the core of Valentina tonight, in every way possible.

6

VALENTINA

The band playing on the stage turns from heavy metal to something softer. It also has me swaying to the music, a beer in one hand, the other raised above my head, a feeling of pure euphoria taking over. There’re no worries about my past, my father coming home this weekend and being a major jerk, or the fact that I’ve barely put a dent in the debt I accrued with my divorce. Yes, that happened, even though I took nothing with me. Brock was forced to buy me out of the house if he wanted to keep it. That didn’t happen. Why, you ask? Well, I had no idea he mortgaged it to the hilt, so I got nothing from that except lawyer bills and credit card debt trying to live some kind of life, even if that meant eating Ramen noodles a lot of nights for dinner. That’s okay, though, because as dusk settles around us, Corey is at my back, a hand gripping my hip, and every once in a while, he’d pull me back until my back is plastered to his front, allowing me to feel exactly what he’s packing in his jeans.

“You havin’ a good time, gorgeous?” My body stops moving. The cadence in his whisper has me closing my eyes, taking a deep breath then letting it out slowly because the way Corey’s voice lingers around us makes me want to do something I’ve never done before.

“The best.” I spin around. My hands wrap around Corey’s neck. His are spanning my lower back, gliding upwards with the tips of his fingertips then retreating. I lift my head. Corey lost his sunglasses in the last little bit, and now that I can see his deep blue eyes, I’m taken aback with just how handsome he is.

“Good. You ready for another beer, or do you want to dance a bit longer?” We’ve somehow managed to hold said drinks in our hands while not letting them drop to the ground. Mine is long past warm, so it’s basically garbage. Though, I’m silently wishing I had the guts to take the lead and kiss him. Those are the thoughts plaguing my mind, not dancing, not drinking, it’s his lips pressed against mine.

“Valentina,” he groans. He lowers his body to where we’re at the same height.

“I’m done dancing,” is how I respond, not sure I need another drink, though, either. I’m on the right side of tipsy, feeling good but not over the line to where you’ll regret what you’ve done the next day.

“Alright, let’s make our way back to camp, then, yeah?” Throughout the entire day, I haven’t seen one red flag, making me think that finally, my bad luck with men has lifted. Don’t get me wrong, I tried dating a few other guys after my divorce. Mason lived in his mom’s basement and played video games all day with no job. Rob was obsessed with kissing his biceps while we were out to dinner on a blind date. Apparently, he took loving himself to the utmost importance. Then there was Nate. He seemed to be a decent kind of guy. Held a steady job, was easy on the eyes, a single dad, and that’s when the drama ensued. Turns out he was in the middle of a custody battle and was still in love with his ex. I wanted no part of that whatsoever. So, for me not to see anything wrong with Corey, I figure it’s worth giving it a shot.