There’s no mistaking that body especially with those painted on leggings and the soft chocolate-brown ponytail hanging down over her teal running jacket. Even in the cold she’s wearing those tight-fitting thermals and, damn, can she wear them. Leggings hug the slim curves of her calves and the perfect roundness of her ass and hips; the jacket narrowing as it moves over her waist and swelling as it passes her shoulders.
She’s facing away from me as she fights with the lock on her screen door and I take a moment to enjoy the view while her attention is elsewhere. The phrase “fun-sized” floats into my mind again. She’s at least a foot shorter than I am, maybe topping five feet on a tall day. Her oval face with eyes the size of a full moon; pouty lips that beg to be touched, to be kissed… to be wrapped around my cock. She turns, and holy shit those tits; just a little more than the perfect handful, every man’s fantasy. I’m still staring like an idiot when she walks down the sidewalk, looking down and shuffling to avoid the patches of ice as she settles her headphones in her ears. She reaches the sidewalk and turns to start her morning run, when she looks up and meets my gaze. She comes up short, surprised to see me, or anyone for that matter, standing here in the chilly morning.
To be fair, I look like a crazy person with my soaked jeans and dirty gray hoodie, staring like a middle school boy with his first boner. She looks at me with a blank stare for a moment before offering a small smile and a wave as she pulls her earbuds back out.
Fuck. What do I do? Do I wave back? No, that’s some Leave it to Beaver shit, right? Does she always wear those pants when she runs? Does she go running every morning? Fuck, maybe I need to take my morning coffee on the porch…
I look over and see her smile slipping, it doesn’t touch her eyes anymore and she is twisting her fingers in the hem of her jacket.
Why is she looking at me like that? Am I scowling? How do people normally have their face? I’m not that scary, am I? Fuck. Come on ya moron, do something!
She starts to turn away and I shake myself from my little pep talk and raise one hand in an awkward wave and offer a pathetic “hey.” I feel my inner voice gearing up to punch itself in the fuckin’ dick for that stellar showing. She falters and turns back and offers a little wave and chirps a “hi” back at me, but I can tell she doesn’t want to be here anymore. Awesome. And the award for most awkward exchange on the face of the earth goes to this goddamn moment.
Say something! Open your goddamn mouth and say something you asshole! Stop just staring at her!
“Going for a run?” I croak out and immediately wish I hadn’t. Awkward and obvious, well done. I’m pretty sure I would have beat myself up in school. So, yeah. This is going really well for me. She blinks at my question, tilting her head to the side like a puppy; attempting to process the idiotic question I just dropped in front of her like a kid dropping a porno-mag in front of his mom.
“Uh...yep,” she responds, tossing her thumb over her shoulder. Jesus fucking Christ could this get any worse? “I uh. Didn’t know you lived around here,” she says, offering me another weak smile.
“Oh, yeah. Right here,” I lamely motion to house.
Seriously man, of course you live here, you’re shoveling the fucking walkway.
“Awesome. Well, I uh… guess I will see you around then,” she says with a forced smile as she moves to put her earbuds back in place and start off down the sidewalk.
She’s leaving asshole. Last chance. Don’t fuck it up…
“Yeah, cool. Have fun. I’ll be here.”
And you fucked it up.
Later that night the Brothers and I are at the compound throwing back a few beers and shooting the shit, blowing off some steam before the run in the morning Gage, Cotton, and Tully all attempt to rope me into a game of pool with them but I beg off, my mind isn’t in it and I’ll keep my twenty bucks.
I try to shake myself outta the funk that’s been following me around all day, but I can’t stop thinking about Tessa and the way her ass looked so damn perfect in those leggings as she bounced her way down the street this morning.
Nope. No. Not that. I’m upset about that damn mobile yesterday. Yep, that’s it. Who the fuck designed those things anyway? The Swedish? I swear shit from IKEA is easier to put together.
That fuckin’ thing I swear to Christ, I’m a goddamn mechanic who can take any rusted bucket of bolts and make it purr like a kitten by the time I’m done with it. No, that stupid piece of plastic and plush almost beat me. All I wanted was for that kid to have some planes overhead at night.
Wait, when the hell did I start giving a shit about kids?
Tearing a frustrated hand through my hair, I take a pull from my beer and slam it down. Turning on my barstool I prop my elbows back against the bar and look around the common room, surveying the scene for the night. I need a distraction. How long has it been since I’ve dipped the wick? Entirely too long if my mind, and my cock, are fixating this hard on a random ass and pair of tits.
No, not random. Tessa.
Fuck. Time to remedy this shit. Looking around the room nothing, more like no one, catches my eye. It’s a Friday night and most of the Brothers are here partying. The club whores are here in force for the party, along with a healthy dose of Hangers on. Club whores are regulars, known entities but they’ve been passed around more than a joint under the bleachers at a high school football game. Roxy calls them “The Fallen” and the joke around the Club is they fall to their knees faster than leaves fall from a tree. Roxy rules them with an iron fist, making sure they get tested and sent to the doctor as needed; and kicking out the ones that get a little too desperate. Most of them work around the Club or at one of our other businesses nearby during the day.
Kiki, the bartender, is the unofficial head girl of the Fallen. She runs the bar and the kitchen within an inch of its life and you better watch it if you ever cross her. Keek is bright, a business major at UMD in her last year; she wants to manage a bar or something once she’s done. God knows she would clean up with that gig. She keeps the other girls in line and is Roxy’s right hand in the Club.
I don’t fuck with most of the Fallen and you couldn’t pay me enough to stick it in one of the Hangers; I ain’t got a death wish. If I’m up for something new I might hit up one of the bars in town, or if I’m feeling lazy, I stick with Keek. But tonight, I’m feeling like I need to work something out of my system.
I look around the room one more time before turning back to the bar, motioning for another beer. Kiki sets a cold one in front of me and I send her a heated look. Quirking my eyebrow as I take a long pull from the bottle, I tilt my head back toward the hall that leads to the bedrooms. She’ll have to do for the night, nothing else is grabbing my interest.
She bites her lip and winks at me, before turning and calling out over the crowd for one of the other Fallen come take over at the bar. Kiki tosses her apron to Jasmine and saunters off down the hall toward my room, her hips swaying more than is strictly necessary in her tiny cut off denim shorts. I take one last pull from my beer before I slap Gage on the back heading off after Kiki. I know she’ll be waiting for me, ready and willing; she wouldn’t have left the bar if she didn’t want to.
When open the door to my room Kiki is there just as I expected, naked and kneeling on my bed, one hand between her legs and the other teasing one of her nipples. Her short dark hair is swept to one side, showing off the sharp undercut and patterns shaved into the side. She has brightly colored tattoos curling down both arms and onto the backs of her hands, and a large intricate piece on her left thigh. I have never bothered to look close enough to tell what they are, but anyone can see its quality work. She is all sharp angles and hollows from her knees to her cheekbones. Her calculating gray eyes show just how intelligent this girl really is, something most of the Brothers take for granted and for which they don’t give her enough credit. She’s tall and lean and I don’t think she has an ounce of jiggle on her, even her tits are small, firm, and perky.