man who owned it, she couldn’t say.
Neither spoke for several minutes, lost in thought. The quiet was welcome after the stress of the morning. Lila closed her eyes and had almost drifted off when Striker’s voice startled her back. “What was it that brought you all the way out to this bum fuck town from DC?”
“I just needed a change.” It was her standard answer whenever someone asked her about the topic that invoked so many negative emotions.
“That’s a very simple answer. I’m gonna have to call bullshit on that one.”
“Excuse me?’ Lila narrowed her eyes at him as her hackles rose. It was easier to get cranky then think about the things that haunted her. “Fine then, I’ll change my answer to none of your damn business.”
“I like it when you’re snarky, babe, but don’t get pissed. Sounds like I may have stomped on a nerve. It wasn’t my intention. I’m just trying to get to know you better.” He shrugged, and finished his beer.
“And is turnabout fair?”
“You bet.”
Lila took a long pull of her frosty beer, and stared out at the lake considering whether she wanted to open up to him. She must have paused for too long because he changed tactics. “Come here,” he said. He encased her hand in his larger one, and pulled her up from her chaise, over to his.
Lila sat down between his spread legs, and he arranged her so her back was pressed up against his chest with his arms resting around her midsection, just below her breasts. He plucked the beer out of her hands and brought it to his lips before returning it to her.
“What are you doing?” She sat tense against him, not exactly sure how to react.
“I’m enjoying the feel of you. You’ve been wrapped all around me on my bike a couple of times now, and I thought I’d reverse the position. Turnabout being fair and all that.”
As the warmth and strength of his body seeped into her, Lila closed her eyes and let the tension ooze out. Each of the many sides to this man fascinated her. He was a criminal, a badass biker that intimidated people pretty much for a living, yet he was also a protector, a serious flirt, and now apparently he was angling to be her confidant. Not ready to open her eyes despite the picturesque scene before her, Lila kept them closed and enjoyed the wonderful sensation of being held by this fascinating man.
When she was relaxed once again, with her head pooled against his shoulder, she decided to jump in with both feet. In the six months since leaving DC, there wasn’t anyone she’d shared her story with, not a single person who knew the real her, and the loneliness was becoming stifling. It would be nice to have someone know her beyond the surface, and know what drove her. “My father is Howard Dewitt.”
“Hmm, sounds familiar. Should I know the name?”
“He’s been in the news a bit lately,” she replied, unable to keep the disdain out of her voice. “He owns Eagle Bank.”
Striker stayed silent for a few seconds. “The one that’s about to be taken over by that other major bank?”
“Bank of the States, yes. Got it in one.”
“Holy fucking shit, babe.”
Lila laughed at his reaction, and absently stroked her fingers over his forearm where it crossed under her breasts. “I started using my mother’s maiden name when I came out here in hope of maintaining some anonymity, and so far I’ve been successful.”
“Jesus, Lila, your father is a billionaire, and wields a ton of power politically. Do your parents know where you are?”
She waived away the beer when Striker offered it. “You can finish it. And, yes they know where I am. There was no point in trying to hide it from them. With their connections they would have known where I was going before I did. Anyway, as you figured out, I grew up with money. Lots of old money. An obscene amount of money, really. And if I’m being honest, I have to say I had a wonderful childhood. I never wanted for anything material, and while my
Neither spoke for several minutes, lost in thought. The quiet was welcome after the stress of the morning. Lila closed her eyes and had almost drifted off when Striker’s voice startled her back. “What was it that brought you all the way out to this bum fuck town from DC?”
“I just needed a change.” It was her standard answer whenever someone asked her about the topic that invoked so many negative emotions.
“That’s a very simple answer. I’m gonna have to call bullshit on that one.”
“Excuse me?’ Lila narrowed her eyes at him as her hackles rose. It was easier to get cranky then think about the things that haunted her. “Fine then, I’ll change my answer to none of your damn business.”
“I like it when you’re snarky, babe, but don’t get pissed. Sounds like I may have stomped on a nerve. It wasn’t my intention. I’m just trying to get to know you better.” He shrugged, and finished his beer.
“And is turnabout fair?”
“You bet.”
Lila took a long pull of her frosty beer, and stared out at the lake considering whether she wanted to open up to him. She must have paused for too long because he changed tactics. “Come here,” he said. He encased her hand in his larger one, and pulled her up from her chaise, over to his.
Lila sat down between his spread legs, and he arranged her so her back was pressed up against his chest with his arms resting around her midsection, just below her breasts. He plucked the beer out of her hands and brought it to his lips before returning it to her.
“What are you doing?” She sat tense against him, not exactly sure how to react.
“I’m enjoying the feel of you. You’ve been wrapped all around me on my bike a couple of times now, and I thought I’d reverse the position. Turnabout being fair and all that.”
As the warmth and strength of his body seeped into her, Lila closed her eyes and let the tension ooze out. Each of the many sides to this man fascinated her. He was a criminal, a badass biker that intimidated people pretty much for a living, yet he was also a protector, a serious flirt, and now apparently he was angling to be her confidant. Not ready to open her eyes despite the picturesque scene before her, Lila kept them closed and enjoyed the wonderful sensation of being held by this fascinating man.
When she was relaxed once again, with her head pooled against his shoulder, she decided to jump in with both feet. In the six months since leaving DC, there wasn’t anyone she’d shared her story with, not a single person who knew the real her, and the loneliness was becoming stifling. It would be nice to have someone know her beyond the surface, and know what drove her. “My father is Howard Dewitt.”
“Hmm, sounds familiar. Should I know the name?”
“He’s been in the news a bit lately,” she replied, unable to keep the disdain out of her voice. “He owns Eagle Bank.”
Striker stayed silent for a few seconds. “The one that’s about to be taken over by that other major bank?”
“Bank of the States, yes. Got it in one.”
“Holy fucking shit, babe.”
Lila laughed at his reaction, and absently stroked her fingers over his forearm where it crossed under her breasts. “I started using my mother’s maiden name when I came out here in hope of maintaining some anonymity, and so far I’ve been successful.”
“Jesus, Lila, your father is a billionaire, and wields a ton of power politically. Do your parents know where you are?”
She waived away the beer when Striker offered it. “You can finish it. And, yes they know where I am. There was no point in trying to hide it from them. With their connections they would have known where I was going before I did. Anyway, as you figured out, I grew up with money. Lots of old money. An obscene amount of money, really. And if I’m being honest, I have to say I had a wonderful childhood. I never wanted for anything material, and while my
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