“Can I paint it? I’ll polish it all too.”
It needed a good coat of paint and some TLC. “Sure.”
She rubbed her hands together. “Oh good, a project.”
I had to chuckle over her enthusiasm for the old bike. I set it to the side. “I’ll order a couple of tires and check it out.”
She beamed at me. Her smile was wide and bright, completely disarming me. It was honest and real, and I found myself smiling back at her. Without thinking, I pushed a curl back over her shoulder, stopping at the feel of the silk of her hair on my hand. I froze, threading my fingers through the curls, rubbing them between my fingers. Our eyes met and locked, the instant heat from earlier returning. I tugged on her neck, bringing her close. She sighed, her eyes drifting shut as I lowered my head and kissed her. Slowly, our lips moved, tasting and giving. I ran my tongue over her bottom lip, and she opened for me, her body quivering as I brought her tighter to my torso.
How she affected me so quickly, so deeply, I would never understand. I wound my free arm around her waist, needing her closer. Wanting to taste her more. Feel her body molded to mine. Despite the height difference, we meshed as if sculpted for each other. Her breath filled my head, fed my lungs, nourished my soul. I bent, lifting her, and she wrapped her legs around me. I stumbled to a covered chair, sitting down, Charly straddling me. Our mouths never separated, our groans mingling, our passion growing, morphing into a living, tangible bubble of heat around us. I ran my hands over her legs, slipping my fingers under her shorts, feeling her readiness. She rolled her hips, making me hiss as she slid against my erection. My tongue explored her mouth, discovering all of her. She whimpered as I undid the ties on the shirt and cupped her breasts. Our fingers grasped and fumbled, and moments later, I was inside her, the heat of her wrapping around me.
“Fuck,” I gasped. “Condom.”
“On birth control,” she assured me, licking at my neck. “Safe. So, so safe.”
She moved and I cursed. I grabbed her hips and guided her, lost to everything unique and perfect about this small piece of time.
The sunlight in her hair, the way the dust motes danced in the beams around us. The way she bit her lip as she rode me, tiny gasps of pleasure escaping her mouth. The feel of that glorious hair brushing my knees as I watched her tilt back her head and find her release. The feel of her, all around me. The sights, the sounds, the sensations of this moment, forever locked into a memory. Knowing I would never again see this barn the same way or look at this chair with simply a passing glance. She would be etched into all of it.
She cried out, gripping my shoulders and calling my name. I thrust into her heat, holding her down as I came, a long, low groan rumbling from my chest. Tendrils of pleasure shook me, wrapping around my spine and exploding in bright shards of light behind my eyes.
She fell forward into my chest, her head buried in my neck. I brought her close, resting my chin on her head. Neither of us spoke, lost in our thoughts for a moment.
My plan had backfired big-time. Instead of keeping her at a distance, I had kissed her senseless by lunch and fucked her before dinner. So much for my bright ideas.
She lifted her head, looking up at me, her green eyes soft. I had to smile at her. “Gonna ask me for a secret, Red?”
“I’ll give you one,” she replied.
I tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m listening.”
“I think you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. Especially for an old curmudgeon.”
I chuckled.
“Your turn.”
“I don’t think you’re so bad yourself, Red. Aside from this horrid hair color and all the dots all over your face.” I winked to let her know I was teasing, then on impulse pulled her in for a hard hug. I grimaced at the feeling of something sharp digging into my skin.
“Ouch,” I growled. “What’s in your pocket?” I rubbed at my chest. “A knife?”
“Oh!” she said. “I forgot. I found this in the storeroom too.” She pulled something from the pocket on the front of the shirt, holding it out on her palm. “I know it’s rare. Did you find it for that restoration you did on the Indian bike?”
I stared at the iconic Indian logo emblem. It had been the crowning piece missing from the bike when I last saw it. The final fragment I’d searched long and hard for.
Except I never got the chance to affix it. I thought it had been stolen along with the bike.