“Mmm, sure,” I mumble. “Could have fooled me… you do know that the words I’ll see you around can be taken many different ways, right?”
I lift the bandage under my t-shirt to check on my tattoo that’s now stinging.
“Not really,” he argues, “not when they come from me… I always come back and I wish you would trust me on that already.”
He clears his throat to get my attention and I look up at his probing expression.
“What the fuck happened? Did you wipe out?”
“Of course not! I’m pretty sure I’d be dead, not standing here listening to you lecture me.”
“Then what’s with the bandage?”
I smile, feeling a little nervous about showing him now that I know he’s not still pissed at me.
“I got restless while you were gone, and I went to the tattoo parlor… figured it would keep my mind off the liquor.”
He stands and walks closer to me.
“You got a tattoo? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s hot that you’re into it, but fuck, Kirsten, I was only gone five days and now you’re riding hogs and getting inked! Lift your shirt, I want to see it.”
I roll the bottom of the t-shirt up to my navel as he gently peels the bandage down my hip and smiles proudly.
“Whiskey and Vixen,” he mumbles, kissing the fresh wounds. “And what is this?” he asks tracing the outline of the tattoo lightly. “A magic lamp,” he continues, “I love it, almost as much as I love you… but does this mean I owe you three wishes?”
“Way more than three,” I laugh, “but enough about the tattoo, I want to meet your family Pax.”
He sighs, carefully reapplying the bandage and pulling my t-shirt back down before he takes a seat at the table again.
I can tell he’s hesitant as he pours us both a shot of whiskey and hands me one, raising his glass.
“To Whiskey and Vixen,” he toasts, “and to taking my hog riding, ink-inspired girlfriend to meet the fam.”
I raise my glass grinning like a moron.
“Your girlfriend huh? Yeah, okay, I’ll go with that… but I want to trade bikes with you. The Kawasaki is much lighter than the Harley.”
He glares at me and pushes the glass toward my lips, shaking his head.
“Let’s celebrate first, and hate-fuck over the bikes later,” he growls.
We both down our shot and stare at each other for a few seconds, me biting my lip and Pax looking at me as if I’m breakfast.
I determine it’s now officially later, and lunge at him, jerking him up by the belt as I unbuckle it and whip his pants down, exposing his erection. I nudge him back onto the chair as he tears my panties off, lifts me like I’m nothing, and slides my already wet pussy onto his dick, his mating call leaving his throat in a low groan.
“Fuck,” he moans, trying to get deeper, “it’s like you were built to ride this dick.”
“I was,” I tell him, panting as I work to find my pace. His hands are gripping my hips, driving me up and down his length in support, and between the pain of him rubbing my tattoo and the pleasure of having him inside me, I’m already about to climax.
“Let me see those tits,” he demands.
I’m panting and moaning as I tug the shirt over my head and toss it behind me.
Letting me take control, Pax slides one hand up my back, into my hair and onto the base of my skull and the other under my breast as he takes my nipple into his mouth and nips down on it.
“Holy fuck, Pax,” I moan, “I’m going to cum.”
“That’s the fucking point, Vixen, show me the hate, baby, and fuck me like you mean it.”
I grip the back of his hair as my body begins to cease and shake, my release exploding through me like fireworks as I drop my head onto his shoulder until it subsides. He holds me tight against him, now back to controlling the severity of my movements as he brings himself to his own climax. I can’t help but bite his neck to the sound of the growling he does when he’s releasing inside me.
“Ouch! Fuck, Vix, not so hard,” he gripes.
“Sorry, it’s a bad habit, and also its payback for the pain you inflicted on my magic lamp.”
He laughs and kisses the tip of my nose as I sit straddling him, admiring his compassionate gaze and the way he always makes me feel tough like I don’t have to answer to anybody for anything.
He lets me handle my own shit even when I know it scares him.
“So, now that you’re my girlfriend, I suppose it means I need to take care of you better… especially since you’re becoming an ink junky and riding a Harley now.”
I kiss his sweet face and climb off of him so we can get dressed.
“No… it’s you who needs to ride the Harley, Pax. I’m surprised I even made it here in one piece. It’s fun, for real, but the damn thing weighs a fuckton, so trade bikes with me please.”
I cross my arms and squint at him, tapping my foot on the floor, waiting for his answer as he works on tying his hair back in thought.
“Okay, I’ll agree to ride the Harley but only on one condition.”
“Which is?”
“You agree not to ask me questions when I tell you that you cannot offer my family a place to stay on the Hill.”
“What?” I cringe, not fully understanding.
“You heard me… we are not taking them back with us, Vixen… I know you, so just shake on it, and I’ll commandeer the Hog.”
I shake, not even thinking about it. I just know
