I am in my workshop putting the final touches on the bike when the soft clicking of high heels approaches, disturbing my work.
The bike is gleaming from the polish that I have applied. I have fixed the engine and restored the damage to the body, making the antique human motorbike look like new. Aeron is going to love it. At least I had hoped he would. It used to belong to his father. I had found it while helping Uncle Geoffre select items for the exhibition.
The bike had been meant to be a nice surprise to cheer Aeron up. His bad nights had been worse than usual these past few months. Now that Laila is here, the bike is probably unnecessary.
Working on it for most of today was an effort to keep my mind off Lola and Aeron. Trying not to imagine them together last night. Doing anything to stop thinking about what they have been up to all day.
If it had been me I would have kept her in my room, and I wouldn’t have been planning to leave it any time soon. But now the bike is done and there is no more reason for me to stay here.
I should go and get ready for dinner. Uncle Geoffre will be annoyed if I am not there. Despite my history and what people might think of me, it is my duty to make a show of solidarity.
But the last thing I need right now is to see Aeron and Lola together.
Sighing, I drop the polishing cloth and stretch my cramped muscles. I turn towards the sound of the footsteps, expecting to see Cilla. It would be typical of Uncle Geoffre to send her to fetch me.
But it is Lola standing in the doorway, not Cilla.
Lola, looking stunning in a shimmering blue dress that clings to her curves. She is clutching the doorway hesitantly. The distressed look in her shining brown eyes sends me striding across the workshop to take her into my arms.
“What is it?” I ask, almost harshly.
She clutches my shirt in her fists and gazes up at me. “Someone told me I’d find you here,” she says, her lips trembling. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you…”
“What happened?” I ask her urgently, my blood is already racing with fury. If somebody hurt her I am going to tear them from limb to limb. And damn it to hell if Uncle Geoffre doesn’t like it.
“Your uncle…”
I frown.
“Your foster father,” she corrects herself. “He told me he was your foster father.”
“Uncle Geoffre. Yes. He raised me.”
“He… He…”
I take her gently by the shoulders. “What is it, honey?”
She is rubbing her wrist as if it hurts. I take it and roll up the long sleeve of her dress, expecting to see a bruise. There is nothing there.
She looks confused, and murmurs, “It’s gone.”
“What is? Did someone hurt you? Tell me.”
Her face is paler than usual. She looks shocked. She shakes her head. “I… I must have imagined it.”
She is blushing now, looking embarrassed. “I over-reacted. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have disturbed you.”
“What did you mean about Uncle Geoffre?”
“He came to see me,” she says. “He… said some things.”
“What things?”
“Nothing. I felt… a bit threatened, I suppose. It’s silly.”
I take her in my arms. I tuck her head under my chin and give her a hug. “Uncle Geoffre can be intimidating. Sometimes people get the wrong impression.”
“Maybe that was it.”
I cup her face in my hands and make her look up at me. “There’s no reason to be frightened,” I murmur.
She nods, looking doubtful.
I stroke my finger along one of her high, perfect cheekbones. “Sometimes people lose their heads when he is around. Believe me, I’ve been there myself.”
“Maybe… I don’t know.” She bites her lip, looking uncertain. “He seemed angry with me. He said I should stop tempting you both.”
“And are you going to stop tempting us?” I ask huskily. “Baby, I did warn you that you couldn’t have anything more with us than just sex.”
She looks hurt. And then her expression changes. Her lips part slightly and her breathing becomes heavy.
“Us?” she whispers, gazing up at me with those big brown eyes.
Groaning, I lower my head to kiss her. I press my lips against her tender full ones, and pull her to me so that her soft body is pressed up against my hard one. Feeling her heartbeat racing does nothing to cool my blood.
I trace her inner lip with my tongue. She opens her mouth, her tongue searching for mine. Her hands drop to my hips, and I experience the oddest sensation that I am about to fall off a cliff into an abyss. I push her away from me quickly.
My chest heaves for breath. It takes some moments for my head to clear. I can’t have her. She is here for Aeron, not me.
“Did he fuck you?” I ask her harshly. “Last night, after I took you to his room?”
“You took me there!” she cries accusingly.
“Did he?” I demand.
”Yes,” she says in a small voice.
I take a deep breath to calm myself. Yes, I did.
“Did he get any sleep?”
She looks hurt. “Yes. He slept through the night.”
I nod. “Good, he needed that. That’s why I sent you to him. You always did help him with his nightmares.”
“Is that all I’m good for?” she says softly, tears shining in her eyes. “You don’t want me?”
My fists clench at her words. How the hell could she doubt it?
“A girl told me…” She hesitates.
“What?” I ask harshly.
“That you have a girlfriend!” she says hotly. “You never told me that. You should have! When we were… in the water.”
She is jealous!
After all these years, it feels like vindication.
“In the water almost fucking,” I tell her, my voice a silken taunt. “You wanted me. You were practically begging me for it. But I had to let Aeron have you instead.”
“Do you always let Aeron have what you want?”
“Yes,” I say, almost bitterly. “You wouldn’t understand. You should leave now.”
She licks her lips nervously. “I don’t want to,” she says, almost too quietly for me to hear. Her eyes drift to the motorbike, as if searching for a reason to stay.
“I restored it for him,” I tell her. “It was going to be a gift…”
Suddenly a thought comes into my head. I touch the camera that is sitting on my workbench. “I can think of a gift he might like better. Since you are so intent on staying, why don’t we give him something to remember you by?”
“Remember me?” She frowns.
I hold up the camera, and to my surprise her eyes darken in anticipation.
My heart beat quickens. “I hoped he’d like the bike. But I know he’ll like it for sure once he knows you’ve been… riding it.”
Suddenly she looks shy. I can see that she knows exactly what I mean. She bites her lip, but her pupils go wide and dark.
I take her by the waist and lift her onto the seat of the bike. Her skirt rides up, revealing several more inches of her thighs. I position her, angling her hips so that her crotch makes full contact with the bike seat.
“You want to do this for him, baby. Don’t you?”
“Yes,” she murmurs.
“Lean forwards,” I tell her. “More.”
She does. When she gasps, I know that the position is applying delicious pressure to her clit. I snap a quick shot.
“Spread your arms out on the handlebars. Arch your back.”
She does it. Her breasts jut out deliciously, and I take another couple of snaps.
“One more shot,” I say.
I want something racier. I would prefer to have her in her underwear, or naked even, but if I do that there is no way I will be able to keep my hands off her.
I scoop her up in my arms, and she clings to me, her breathing quickening. She looks disappointed when I place her back on the bike, this time facing backwards. I put her ass firmly on the seat. I take my time. My hands linger on her body as I position her so that she is lying over the gas tank, her head resting on the handle bars.
“Okay?” I ask her.
She nods.
The neckline of her dress is low and plunging. In between it I can see the ribbon fastener of her bra. Such a tempting detail. She full well knows how sexy it is. I snap a shot of it. And then I run my finger down from her collar to between the curves of her breasts, until it rests on the little bow.
She shivers, and stares up at me, her lips slightly parted. She wants me to tug that little bow until it comes loose. She wants me to play with her breasts. Maybe she wants me to suck her nipples like I did out in the water.
My cock is fully hard now. If I suck her, I will want to fuck her. I might not be able to stop.
She looks disappointed when I take my finger away. Instead, I pull apart the neckline of her dress a little to reveal more of the curves of her breasts. I keep my movements business-like, to remind myself to stay in control.
I move behind the bike to assess the shot. She is leaning back and holding onto the sides of the engine to keep herself steady. Her thighs are taut with the effort of keeping her balance, and between her slightly spread legs I glimpse the gusset of her panties.
The contrast of her sweet face and the glimpse of her underwear makes her look unbelievably sexy. As I snap a few more shots, her legs spread open further. Whether to help keep her balance or to give me more of that irresistible view, I do not know.
Her body slides a little down the seat and her skirt rides up all the way to her hips, giving me a clear view between her widespread thighs. Her panties have darkened with moisture. She is as turned on as I am.
The camera hangs limply from my hand as we stare at each other.
“You have a girlfriend,” she whispers.
And yet she stays in that position, with her legs spread open for me. I cannot take my eyes off her crotch and she knows it. She knows I want to rip those panties off and taste what is beneath them.
“She’s not my girlfriend anymore,” I admit hoarsely.
She hasn’t been for months, and before that we were dating on and off for a long time. Recently she has been trying her best to rekindle the old flame. I should probably let her. Anything to keep my mind off Lola. And yet I already know that even when Lola is gone, no other woman will be able to compete.
My eyes move from her panties to her face. “You are stunning,” I say.
A low moan escapes her lips and her entire body seems to tremble. “I want you,” she whispers.
I take involuntary steps towards her, and my hands are already at her hips, tugging at her panties before I come to an abrupt stop. I close my eyes and force my hands to be still. She is Aeron’s, I remind myself. She is his.
