"Perfect. "
The two females shared a smile that was so easy, he nearly teared the fuck up: Some kind of something had been reached between them. . . and if he couldn't have his Wellsie and son back. . . yeah, he would want No'One to find her true family.
Looked like a step in the right direction had been taken.
As No'One walked up the steps, John traded places with her, going down to the bike. Tohr wanted to ask her where they'd gone, what she'd done, what had been said. But he reminded himself that sleeping arrangements notwithstanding, he didn't have a right to any of that.
Which told him exactly how far they hadn't come, didn't it.
"You have fun?" he said as he backed up and held the door open for her.
"Yes, I did. " She gathered the hem of her robe and limped into the vestibule. "Xhex took me for a motorcycle ride - or is it motorbike?"
"Either one works. " Death trap. Donor cycle. Whatevs. "Next time, you wear a helmet, though. "
"Helmet? As in an equestrian one?"
"Not exactly. We're talking about something a little sturdier than velvet with a chin strap. I'll get you one. "
"Oh, thank you. " She smoothed the wisps that were all over her cap of blond hair. "It was so. . . exhilarating. Like flying. I was scared at first, but she went slowly. Later, though, I learned to love it. We went very fast. "
Well, didn't that make him want to shit in a bag for the rest of his life.
And for once, he found himself wishing she was afraid. That Ducati was nothing but an engine with a goddamn seat bolted to it. One bounce off the back, and that delicate skin of hers would be nothing but red paint for the road.
"Yeah. . . that's great. " In his head, he started to give her a safety lecture that revolved around the fundamentals of kinetic energy and medical terms like hematoma and amputation. "You ready to eat?"
"I'm famished. All that fresh air. "
In the distance, he heard the roar of that bike taking off, and then John came in looking like death.
The kid went directly to the billiards room, and ten to one, he wasn't after a handful of honey-roasted - but there would be no talking with him. He'd made that pretty damn clear at the beginning of the night.
"Come on," Tohr said. "Let's go sit down. "
The usual din of conversation around the table quieted as they came through the arches, but he was too focused on the female walking ahead of him to care. The idea that she'd been out in the world on her own, roaring along in the night with Xhex, made her seem. . . different.
The No'One he knew would never have done something like that.
And, shit. . . for some reason, his body juiced at the thought of her in clothes other than that robe of hers, straddling that bike, her hair free from that braid and trailing into the night.
What would she look like in jeans? The good kind. . . the kind that hugged a female's ass, and made a male want to do some riding of the non-cycle variety.
Abruptly, he pictured her naked and up against the wall, her legs spread, her hair unbraided, her hands cupping her breasts. Like a good boy, he was on his knees, his mouth on her sex, his tongue licking at that place he had learned so much about with his fingers.
He was sucking on her. Feeling her against his face as she arched up and got tight -
The growl that came out of him was loud enough to echo in the silent room. Loud
enough to bring No'One's surprised face around over her shoulder. Loud enough to make him seem like a total ass.
To cover his tracks, he made elaborate work out of pulling her chair from the table. Like the shit was brain surgery.
As No'One sat down, her own arousal drifted up into his nose, and he nearly had to strangle himself to keep another growl from vibrating up out of his chest.
Parking it in his own seat, his erection got pinched big-time behind his fly, and that was just fine. Maybe the blood supply would get cut off and the bitch would deflate - except. . . well, going on the cock-ring theory, the opposite would likely be true.
Fantastic.