I let my legs fall open as I slid down into the mountain of bubbles that was growing around me, wincing as my sore muscles rang out through my body. I let the tub fill until the water was to my neck and then turned the handle to off with my foot. As the water stopped running I could hear the low sounds of music from the kitchen and the clanking of pans. I smirked, wondering what a rough and tough biker looked like cooking dinner. I let all of the cares and worries filter out of my head. I’d already made my mind up on what I was going to do, I could only hope that the rest would fall into place.
After the water in the tub began to cool, and the cursing from the kitchen began to grow louder, I made way out of the bath and wrapped up into a fluffy blue towel, heading toward the smell of food. I made my way into the kitchen as Jameson finished making our plates and I leaned against the wall, “Is cussing mandatory when cooking in Ireland?”
“Only when the food doesn’t behave,” he smiled, taking our plates to the small wooden table and then disappearing toward the back. I made my way to my bag and rummaged for a shirt when he reemerged from the hallway, “Here, wear this.” I took the clothes from him and unfolded a pair of boxers and a shirt. I thanked him and then pulled them on, taking my seat across from him at the table.
“So do you stay up here often?” I asked, taking a bite of the mashed potatoes he’d made.
“When I need to get away from the shite at the club I do. I like the quiet, not really one for parties. Those fuckers get to drinking and starting actin’ the maggot, clubhouse is full of slags they found out of some pub. Not really my scene.” He took a bite of his food and I tried to keep from laughing at the way he talked, the accent was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard, but I didn’t know half of the phrases that he used. “What’re you smilin’ about?”
“Just wondering if I’ll ever fully understand what you’re saying.”
“Ehh, takes time. You’ll get used to it eventually.” I could see his eyes falter as he said the words, realizing that I really didn’t have that much more time left in Ireland. “Guess you won’t have to worry about it for too much longer, aye?”
“Who knows? Maybe I’ll stay,” I said, trying to make it sound nonchalant as I looked down and poked at the piece of meat on my plate. After all, I didn’t know if he’d even want me to; hell, we’d just met a few weeks ago. I didn’t want to be the girl who fell in love and then decided to ruin her entire life following after some mysterious man. But when I looked up from my plate I almost lost my breath. Jameson was staring at me, his eyes wild with a mixture of hope and longing.
“You just muckin’ about? Or you bein’ serious?” he asked cautiously, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.
“I don’t know. Do you want me to stay?” My heart was beating in my throat now as I sat my fork down next to my plate, my appetite no longer on food.
“Didn’t want to say anything ‘cause I didn’t want you to be throwin’ your life away for some wasted biker.” He put his napkin down next to his plate and pushed his chair back, staring at me over the table as he placed his arms on the table and let out a deep breath. “Starla, ain’t never met a woman like you before. Didn’t judge any of us, just accepted us as we were and then out of everyone, you chose me. Didn’t know what you wanted, baby. Didn’t know if you wanted to just come and have fun, or if you were feelin’ it too.”
I could feel my heart tightening as he spoke and it solidified any question or doubt that might be left in the back of my mind. “Jameson, I feel it too.” I stood from my chair and made my way around the table as his hands made it to my waist and his thumb gently stroked the skin under the baggy shirt I had on. I straddled him and sat with my back to the table, running my hands up both of his arms. “Do you think this could be something? I mean, it seems crazy because we just met, but something about being with you just seems right.”
“Nothin’ crazy about it, baby. This world has a funny way of bringin’ people together, but when it feels this good you shouldn’t question it.” His hands were moving down to the boxers that I wore. “Want you on the back of my bike, baby. Want you in my bed at night.” I let out a moan as his finger made its way to my entrance and fingered at the moisture that was now dripping from my *. “Can’t give you much.” His other hand grabbed the hair at the nape of my neck and gently pulled my head back as he thrust his finger inside of me, his thumb rubbing circles around my clit. “But I can promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.” I melted around him as he spoke, panting and moaning out with each stroke of his finger.
“Fuck me, Jameson,” I moaned out, I wanted him, in every way possible. “Fuck me hard.”