Looking at his food, his strong jaw chewing, he answers. “I slept around a lot when I was a bull rider. I played this game where I was the Indian and the girl I was sleeping with was the cowgirl. I’d hide and she’d have to find me if she wanted an orgasm.” He says it so matter of fact I can’t help but stare at him.
Now all I see is him hiding in a closet while a half-naked chick looks around a motel room for him.
“We didn’t play that.”
He shakes his head. “No, we didn’t.” His words are soft and gentle, his eyes meeting mine, and it occurs to me we didn’t play that game because I’m not just some ass to him.
The feeling in my chest too strong, I break eye contact. This keeps getting harder, maybe playing the game and making me just another notch on his belt would be easier.
“Soo, what’s your real name?” I take the risk and ask him the most personal question I know you could ask a biker. Their real name makes them vulnerable. You’re taking away the mask they wear to protect themselves from enemies and giving you the power.
He tenses, and I instantly know he’s not going to tell me. Getting a man like Big Chief to tell you his real name is like giving a girl a promise ring. It’s precious, it’s a gift of trust because just like a biker using a road name, he uses Big Chief to keep him untraceable by anyone.
He stands, the room taking a dip in temperature.
“You can have the last piece.” He points at the box and squats in front of the fridge, pulling it open. He surveys what’s left.
Water, and a couple of mini liquor bottles. He takes out the water and twists the cap off, his eyes avoiding me. Everything just got awkward. He hands me the bottle of water and I take a sip, the coldness coating my dry mouth and my throat. I hand it back and feel stupid for asking. I’m so confused. He says things that make me feel different than just some girl he’s ordered to protect but then puts me in my place of just a girl he’s ordered to protect. I slip under the comforter, attempting to shield my insecurities.
“I’m going to go get us some drinks and soda,” he mumbles, still not looking at me as he leaves the room, the door sounding extra loud when it closes.
My first time having sex I didn’t know the guy’s last name, my second time having sex I don’t even know the guy’s real name.
I really have my shit together, huh?
14
Delilah
Stirring awake, I yawn, the stretch in my face making my stitches itch. My ribs are still sore from Bugs kicking the shit out of me, and I rub a hand over them. My whole body is sore, including my face. Having booze and weed has helped not feel the full potential of my wounds the last couple of days, but I’m definitely feeling it all right now. Throwing the blankets off me, I quietly head over to the jacuzzi in the corner of the room and turn on the faucet, making sure the water is scalding hot. Glancing to the bed, Big Chief is still asleep. My eyes on him, I take my shirt off and my panties and climb into the tub in the dark. The water swallows my body and I relax against the back of the tub. I pull my hair up and pin it with my head against the side to keep it out of the water. I wish I had some bubbles or candles. Ooh, or some of those twinkly lights. Those little tea lights make everything better. A splash of water has my eyes snap open, and Big Chief is standing in the jacuzzi naked, slowly getting in with me. The water swooshes over the side and onto the floor.
“What are you doing?” I cover my chest with my arms and move my feet to one side so he doesn’t sit on them.
He presses a button on the side and bubbles begin to vibrate the entire tub, somewhat hiding my naked body visible in the clear water.
He suddenly moves across the tub, hooking his palm behind my neck. His eyes solely on mine and my breathing becomes labored. He’s looking at me like he wants me again, and I can’t fucking help but want him.
“I don’t know, but I can’t stop thinking about you, D,” he whispers softly,. Using his other hand, he sensually brushes my bottom lip with his thumb.
“You can’t?” This surprises me and hurts me at the same time because I can’t stop thinking about him either and the more addicted I become the more scared of going home I am.