She didn’t need anything from me—just a simple distraction, which I was more than happy to give. And I liked that. I liked it a lot.
When we arrived at Rebecca’s house, neither spoke as we got off my bike and removed our helmets. Anticipation crackled as we climbed up the steps to the front porch. A relieved smile crossed her face when we finally walked into the house.
She’d barely closed the door, and we were on each other like two horny fucking teenagers. Her hands dove into my hair as she pulled me towards her, crushing her mouth against mine in a hungry kiss, and it wasn’t long before she started inching her scrubs down her hips. I grappled a condom from my wallet, unfastened my jeans, and slid it on. In a blink, I had her pinned against the wall with her legs wrapped around me.
I drove deep inside Rebecca with one firm thrust, then fucked the ever-loving hell out of her. I’d say from her little whimpers and sated moans, along with the tiny beads of sweat trickling from her brow, that I did some of my best work that afternoon.
I was expecting an invite to dinner or maybe a possibility for another round, but that didn’t happen.
Not even close.
I was still buried deep inside her when she patted me on the shoulder and said, “Okay, stud. It’s time for you to go.”
“Whoa.” I quickly withdrew and tossed the condom in the trash next to the door. “Something wrong?”
“No, everything’s fine. This was nice, really nice”—Rebecca nonchalantly pulled her scrubs back up over her hips and tied them at the waist--“but I’ve gotta get back and finish my shift.”
I nodded, zipped up my jeans and adjusted my cut, then started for the door. I was about to head out but stopped when I remembered she’d ridden there with me. “Need a ride back to work?”
“No, thanks. I’ll catch a cab.”
“Okay, suit yourself.”
I opened the door, and as soon as I stepped outside, I was hit with an unusual urge to turn around and reach for Rebecca. I was tempted to pull her into my arms and kiss her, long and hard.
I resisted—something I didn’t typically do.
But that feeling left me out of sorts, and I found myself not liking the idea of never seeing her again. I typically didn’t give women my number, but I knew Rebecca well enough and didn’t see the harm. So, I told her to call me if she ever needed to “relieve some stress,” though I honestly didn’t expect to hear from her.
But she did.
In fact, she called countless times. Hell, I called her more times than I could count myself, but only because we had an understanding.
Neither of us was looking for anything serious. Rebecca had been through a hell of a divorce and had suffered abuse that would cripple most women, but being a strong, independent woman, she didn’t seem to let the memories of her past consume her. She hadn’t given up and was doing everything she could to give her daughter the best life possible.
However, there were times over the past seven months when I’d noticed a few of her quirks. For one, she didn’t care for the dark. At least one light was always on in the house—if not more, and she didn’t like feeling confined in any way. Any time I’d put my weight on her, she’d tense up, and a panicked look would cross her face. That had greatly improved over the last couple of months, but a level of fear still hid behind her eyes.
I didn’t think she was even aware of it. If so, she did her best to hide it, so I played along and let her take the reins. It was just one of those things she needed to do, and I got that.
Rebecca was a fighter.
I respected that about her.
I also respected that she had her own thing going and didn’t need a man to fill some void in her life.
As far as I was concerned, that was a good thing. After getting burned by the only woman I’d ever really cared about, I’d devoted my life to the club, often tied up with the brothers. I made this clear to Rebecca, and we agreed it was best to keep things simple.
We’d do the sex thing, which happened to be fucking incredible, and leave it at that.
No relationship.
No strings attached—just the way I liked it.
When I arrived at Rebecca’s place, I’d barely tapped on the door when she opened it, wearing nothing but a red silk bathrobe. Her long dark hair was pinned up, with several damp strands falling loose around her face and neck, and she smelled of fresh lavender and vanilla, having just gotten out of a hot bath. I gave her a quick once over, and the second I saw the puffy circles under her eyes, I knew she’d been crying. “Rough day?”