Was sex with Roark good enough to take this chance? I wondered as I worked to slow my breathing.
My mind wandered back to a few hours prior when I’d lured Roark into the back room of my shop. He had been so sexy with his large muscular body, the tattoos, and the nipple piercings. My mouth watered as I finally stepped from my car and walked in front of it only to stop and wonder where I was to go from here.
The wind blew at the skirt of my dress and I hastily tried to hold it down. My pussy still ached from the hard ride I’d had earlier and the dress I’d decided to wear was way more comfortable than pants. Besides, it would be much easier access for Roark to blow my mind again. It had been so refreshing to have a guy who could keep up with me. I liked my sex a bit rough and tumble. It revved my engines. And, Roark delivered.
“Hmm,” I moaned at the erotic thoughts in my head.
“Going to stand out here all day?” I opened my eyes – which I hadn’t realized had closed – and found a smirking Roark standing in front of me.
His height caused me to tilt my head back and I squinted to block the rays of the setting sun. The bright light caused ripples of blue to appear on Roark’s short-cropped black hair. A five o’clock shadow now darkened his cheeks and my mind wandered to thoughts of how it would feel against my thighs.
“You keep looking at me like that and we won’t make it to business, beautiful,” Roark laughed as he offered me his arm. “Shall we?”
I shivered as he took my hand and slid my arm through his for the short walk to the entrance to the Dark Leopard’s clubhouse. At the entrance, he released my arm so he could open the heavy-looking door.
The building wasn’t anything fancy. It was three stories of red brick and square from what I could see. Bars were over all of the windows and a heavy steel door allowed us entry. Inside there was a lot of dark wood but it was surprisingly well lit. The entry was two stories tall and there were hallways which branched off to both sides and down the center of the first floor. Stairs wrapped around on the sides and created a landing above the central hallway entrance.
“Down there are meeting rooms, offices, and such. To the left, we have a bar and… uh… lounge,” Roark chuckled and smirked at me before continuing, “Straight ahead is where the kitchen is. The upper two floors have apartments for all of the club members.”
“Efficient,” I replied when I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Roark laughed and pressed his hand at the small of my back to lead me to the center hallway.
We walked in silence until the hallway ended in a large country style kitchen. A huge central island was surrounded on two sides by stools. Then there were two extra-wide refrigerators which covered most of one wall. Beside them was a set of folding doors which I figured led to a walk-in pantry. The wall opposite held two sets of double-ovens with counter space to prepare the largest of meals. There was a huge sink, dishwasher, and in one corner was a tiny two-seater table that appeared out of place with the size of everything else in the kitchen.
“My mom liked to make large meals,” Roark explained as I gaped at the room. “She always said the kitchen is the heart of the home and we needed one that could serve the entire MC.”
“So… I’ve been around bikers but I’ve never really been around bikers…” I felt heat rise on my cheeks at how my words sounded. “I mean… I don’t really know anything about motorcycle clubs. I guess I just never thought of them as… uh… family affairs.”
“Depends on the club,” Roark replied as he walked over to the ovens and opened one of the doors to look inside. “We’re just a lot of rotten cubs nowadays.”
His gaze wandered to the long window over the sink which showed an amazing view of the trees and the river in the distance. I watched him and waited to see if he’d say more but when he didn’t, I moved to the island and leaned my arms against the counter.
“So, you grew up here, then?” I groaned immediately after the words left my mouth.
Roark grinned at me but gave me a nod as he looked in a drawer and pulled out a couple of oven mitts.
“Do you want to sit at the island or over at the table?” Roark settled a pan onto a trivet before going back to the other oven and pulling out two small glass cooking dishes. He settled them on their own trivets before he took one last trip to retrieve a pan of rolls.
“Um…” The dishes were spread out on the island and I felt a bit overwhelmed. When he said he would cook I was expecting maybe a pan of mac and cheese.
However, as I watched Roark serve up two plates of baked salmon, mashed potatoes, and vegetables I began to wonder if I was dreaming.
“Did you really cook this yourself? I looked at him wearily.
“Of course.” He looked at me as if I offended him.
“I was just checking. I didn’t expect anything so… uh… fancy,” I chuckled.
“This isn’t fancy. Just a quick boil on the stove for the potatoes and vegetables. And a short broil in the oven for the salmon.”
“It’s a lot to me. I burn water,” I laughed and he chuckled along with me.
“Here” – he handed me a plate and set of silverware while he grabbed up his own along with a butter dish – “we’ll sit over at the table. It’s easier to talk when we can face each other.”
I grinned and took a
