Free Motorcycle Man by Kristen Ashley

lifted up with a hand in his chest and looked down at him.
    His eyes were on the TV and his arm with the remote in his hand was stretched out and aimed at the TV.
    “Tack –”
    He didn’t even look at me when he muttered, “Relax, Red.”
    I started to push up from his chest and his arm around my waist got tight as his head turned my way.
    Then he whispered, “Relax.”
    I stared down at him. He turned his head back to the TV, hit some buttons and then tossed the remote on the coffee table. His arm curled me deeper into his body as his other hand went behind his head.
    Speed started on the TV.
    “Tack –”
    “Relax.”
    “Um –”
    Another squeeze and his head turned to me.
    “ Baby,” he said softly in his gravelly voice, I felt that one word in my belly and it felt nice. “ Relax. ”
    His eyes were warm, his arm was tight and his body against me was hard.
    I bit my lip.
    Then I made another decision and relaxed.
    An hour later, I fell asleep with my cheek to Tack’s chest, my arm curved around his gut and my legs tangled in his.
    * * * * *
    I woke up confused.
    It was dark and I was trapped in some kind of comfy cocoon. I sluggishly surveyed my situation and it hit me that I was sleeping on the couch with Tack. My head was cushioned on his bicep, my cheek pressed to his chest, his forearm was wrapped around my shoulders, his other arm resting on my waist. My arm was draped around his, my leg was hitched over his hip and his leg was cocked and resting between mine.
    Okay, damn, this felt nice. Beautiful. Special. Perfect.
    Maybe I wasn’t wrong a week ago because this felt right.
    Really right.
    Dreamy.
    I snuggled closer. Tack’s arm around my waist tightened unconsciously before it went loose again and a second later, I fell back to sleep.
    * * * * *
    I was being lifted and I opened my eyes to see weak light in the room.
    It was dawn.
    My arm automatically slid around Tack’s neck and I whispered, “Tack.”
    “Sh, baby,” he whispered back, walking and carrying me.
    I pressed my forehead into his neck and sighed.
    Then I felt myself going down and I was in my bed, head on my pillow. I turned to my side and my eyes slid to him to see Tack standing beside the bed pulling the covers over me.
    “Are you leaving?” I asked quietly.
    “Got things to do,” he answered just as quietly.
    “Okay,” I whispered, my eyes drifting closed and, as they did this, I felt the sweet sweep of his thumb across the apple of my cheek.
    Then I felt his presence leaving me, my eyes drifted open and I saw he’d almost made it to my bedroom door.
    “Tack?” I called, he stopped and turned.
    “Yeah, baby.”
    “Thanks for dinner.”
    He grinned and it was no less sexy when I was half asleep.
    “You’re welcome darlin’,” he replied and I grinned back as my eyes drifted closed again. Then I heard a muttered, “Pepperoni next time,” before I fell back to sleep.
     
     

Chapter Six
    We Play This My Way
     
    I was in my office at Ride. It was the Thursday after the second Saturday night I’d spent with Tack. The second Saturday night I’d mistaken him for my motorcycle dream man. The second Saturday night where I made the way wrong decisions and acted so stupid I’d humiliated myself.
    Four and a half days of nothing from Tack. Not one thing.
    This did not mean I didn’t see him. I saw him. I saw him roaring in on his bike. I saw him standing outside the Compound talking to his biker brethren. I saw him working in the garage.
    I did not see him anywhere around me. He didn’t come into the office and he didn’t pay another surprise visit to my house. But he was at Ride and he was either doing a bang up job of avoiding me or he forgot I existed.
    Now I was a slut and an idiot and I decided that being a slut was more fun. A lot more fun. Being an idiot, melting toward Tack, letting him in over beer, pizza, sad movies and snuggling on my couch only to have him shut me out was not fun at all.
    He’d used me.