Motorcycle Man

Chapter Fifteen Three Hours

I woke when I felt hands turning me and my first thought was panic. Not exactly panic, as such. Extreme panic.

Therefore, I pulled violently free from the hands and scooted swiftly across the bed. Too swiftly and too panicked. I landed on my ass on the floor, cracking my head against the nightstand.

I didn’t react to either of these things. I heard movement on the bed so I twisted and scuttled backwards on hands and feet like a crab except not sideways. I hit wall and pushed up as the dim light coming from street lamps filled the room and I saw a big, shadowed man heading my way.

I raised my hand to ward him off, his chest hit it, hands spanning my hips and I heard, “Baby, you’re safe. It’s me.”

Tack. It was Tack. Not a bad guy there to hood me and hurt me but Tack.

I relaxed and the panic slid out of me.

Earlier, Dog had taken me to the Chaos Compound, dragged me with a hand on my upper arm to Tack’s room and he’d locked me in. Not a word of explanation. Not a, “Have you eaten?” Not a, “Don’t worry about your beloved aunt and best friend, all is well.” He just walked out, locked me in and I heard his booted feet walk away.

Now it was the dead of night and Tack was back from whatever he did with Lanie. Not me. Lanie.

Reminded of this, my hand stopped going slack at the knowledge that nothing else terrifying was happening to me, it strengthened and tried to push.

Tack wasn’t in the mood to be pushed away. I knew this because he leaned into my hand and my elbow buckled at the pressure just as the pads of his fingers bit into my flesh.

“Tack –” I started to say, what, I did not know, but he cut me off.

“Three hours,” he growled.

These words were so strange, said in a growl so low it was almost guttural, and his tone had changed so significantly from his previous quiet words, I stopped putting pressure on my hand and blinked at him in the shadows.

“Pardon?”

My arm got crushed between our bodies when his invaded my space and his hands slid up my hips, into my shirt, pulling it up, skin to skin.

“Three hours,” he repeated, his voice still that fierce, guttural rumble that kind of scared me and I didn’t know why. It was like the tone communicated that he was trying to control something, some emotion, and he was failing.

“Three hours?” I asked.

His shadowy face got close to mine. “Yeah, Red. Three. Fuckin’. Hours.”

Then his hands flew up, taking my top with it with such force I had no choice but to lift my arms. It was gone for nary a second when his fingers gripped me at the waist, I was up, twisted and he was walking, taking me with him. Then as quickly as I was up, I was down on my back in Tack’s bed and he was on top of me.

All this happened and I didn’t even have a chance to take a breath.

My hands went to his shoulders. “Tack –”

“Three hours.”

“Why are you saying –?”

I didn’t finish my question, his mouth crushed down on mine and there was no gentle coaxing to open for his tongue. It spiked out, forcing itself between my lips and then it was in my mouth. His kisses could be hungry, they could be demanding but he’d never kissed me like this. No one had ever kissed me like this. I didn’t even know you could kiss like this. It drained me dry at the same time it filled me up. Filled me full of what, I wasn’t sure except all of it was good.

Then his fingers were in my bra, pulling the cup down, they curved around the bottom of my breast and lifted it. His mouth released mine and he twisted his torso down and sucked my nipple into his mouth, hard.

“Oh God,” I moaned as the heady sensations tore through me, my hands lifted, fingers sifting into his hair to hold him to me.

His other hand went to my shorts, he unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned the top button and pulled the zip down maybe half an inch before his hand was in, sliding through the instant wetness his mouth at my nipple created. His middle finger slid through, I gasped and then stopped breathing when it filled me.

Then it started moving as Tack released my nipple and demanded, “Get your other tit ready for me.”

I didn’t hesitate. He sucked my nipple back into his mouth, more wetness surged between my legs and my hand left his head, my fingers went to the other cup of my bra and pulled it down. Then my hand curved around the underside and his head shifted, his finger between my legs still moving, he sucked my other nipple sharply into his mouth as his finger and thumb rolled the one his mouth left behind.

God. God. Amazing.

My hips bucked and my back arched. Then my hips moved with his hand, fast, hard, demanding.

His mouth left my nipple and came to mine.

“Greedy,” he growled, fingers at my nipple and between my legs still working.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“You want more?”

“Yes.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“What do you want, Tyra?”

My arms moved around his shoulders, my hips still moving with his hand. “Your cock, Tack, I want your cock,” I breathed against his lips.

His hands left me instantly then the zipper on my shorts zipped down. Tack tore them off, taking my panties with them.

He got on his knees between my legs and I watched him tug off his tee and toss it aside as I lifted up, my hands moving directly to his jeans. I opened them and tugged them down his hips, my eyes glued through the shadows to the beauty of him.

“Lie back, spread wide for me, baby,” he ordered, my head tipped back and my mouth went dry with want.

Then I did as I was told, lying back and spreading my legs wide and at first, Tack didn’t move. He just kneeled between my legs and I felt his eyes on me. Then he leaned in, put a hand in the bed beside me, arm straight. He lifted the other hand and trailed his fingers from my throat, down my chest, between my breasts, down my ribs, belly, down, sliding between my legs.

“Tack,” I whispered, my voice urgent, my hips lifting to deepen his touch.

His finger slid inside and a moan slid out of my throat.

“Greedy cunt,” he muttered and his thumb hit me right where I needed it, my body jolted and my neck arched. “My girl’s got a greedy cunt.”

I didn’t respond. His thumb was moving. It felt good, unbelievably good, fantastic. So good, I was close to climax.

“Look at me, Red.”

I dipped my chin, tried to focus on him as his thumb went away but the tip of his cock slid inside.

“Yes,” I breathed, grinding down and taking him inside.

The minute I did, his body covered mine and he started moving, fast, hard, rough and deep.

“Yes, baby,” I breathed in his ear, “fuck me.”

My hips moved with his thrusts, my knees lifting, thighs tucking tight to his sides, my hands slid down his back so my fingers could dig into his hard ass.

God, he felt good. So good. And he was good at it. Great. Unbelievable. No one better. No one.

I felt his teeth nip the skin of my neck and it arched as that and his driving cock took me, already primed, crashing over the edge.

One of my hands released his ass and lifted, grasping his hair as I cried out. I lifted my hips, wrapping my legs around his back. I held on as he rode me through my orgasm, harder, harder, my body jolting, my limbs tightening, the beautiful pressure released only to build again instantly.

“You’re done and your pussy wants more,” he growled in my ear, his hands spanning my hips, yanking me up to meet his deepening thrusts.

“Yes…,” I gasped through his grunts as I started coming again, the beauty of it rolling over me, “Yes.”

My neck arched and my heels dug in his back as I lifted my hips further and he drove harder.

I was coming down, holding him tight, Tack thrusting deep, grunting with the effort, my tongue at the skin of his neck when his rhythm changed, slowed, but all the power of him shifted to his hips as he pounded hard and his grunts turned to groans.

Then he stopped, buried deep inside me, and gave me his weight. I liked his weight, his warmth, his smell, his body connected to mine and I held on tighter.

In my life, I’d had five lovers and I had chosen them all carefully. I thought all were close enough to perfect before I took them to my bed. And none of them gave me what Tack gave me. Not even close.

He shifted some of his weight to a forearm in the bed as his other hand drifted up the skin of my side and with his lips at my ear he whispered, “Three hours.”

My limbs convulsed and I whispered back, “Why do you keep saying that?”

He lifted his head and I felt his eyes on my face through the darkness. “That’s how long they had you.”

I forgot how to breathe.

Tack did not. He spoke.

“They’re gonna bleed.”

It was a vow.

My body went as still as my lungs.

He went on. “Rivers of blood.”

That was a vow too.

Oh. My. God.

“Tack –” I forced out.

His body shifted slightly to the side and his hand curled around my throat like it did outside Hawk’s SUV. His fingers flexed in but the touch was light.

His tone was not.

“They took you,” he stated.

“Yes, but –”

He interrupted me. “They hooded you.”

“I know, but listen –”

“They touched you.”

“Well, only to –”

“They bound you.”

“Uh …”

“They scared you.”

“This is true, but –”

“No,” he ground out, his fingers flexing deeper into my throat, no pressure, no pain, his word final, his touch communicating the same – no response necessary.

My hand went to his cheek and I whispered, “Handsome.”

It was like I didn’t even talk. Tack stayed on target. “Had Roscoe on you. They clocked him with the butt of a gun. Six stitches. Shoulda put Hopper on you. Brick. No one would get the jump on Hop or Brick.”

“Roscoe?”

“Recruit. Not fresh, he’s been around a while. Smart kid. Seen some action. Done his part. Thought he’d do good. Fucked up.”

Oh boy, I was worried about the unknown Roscoe and his six stitches but I was worried more about Tack and his fury.

“Tack, you need to let me –”

“No,” he cut me off yet again. “I’ll explain, Red, you belong to Chaos. No one touches what belongs to Chaos. No one. They don’t touch it. They don’t hood it. They don’t bind it. They don’t even breathe in its space unless they have Chaos permission.”

Um. I had to admit, I liked that he was protective. I even liked that he was overprotective.

But it must be said I wasn’t feeling the love for being referred to as an “it”.

I thought it wasn’t the brightest move to inform him of that fact in his current mood so I kept on my current target in hopes of getting through. “Please let me –”

“You gotta get that, Red. And I swear to fuckin’ Christ, they’re gonna get it.”

I stared into his shadowy face and whispered, “You’re scaring me again, Tack.”

His fingers flexed into my throat again before his hand slid up, palm cupping my jaw, fingers wrapped around my neck and ear and his face came closer, his lips touching mine before he moved back.

“You shouldn’t be scared. The point I’m makin’ is that you should never be scared. But I promise, ‘cause of this shit, someone’s gonna feel fear. It just ain’t gonna be you. Not again. Not ever again. Not for three hours, Tyra, not for three fuckin’ minutes.”

“Tack –”

“I’m not inviting discussion, babe, I’m sayin’ it like it is.”

“Tack!” I snapped, coming to my end. I slapped his arm to get his attention and demanded, “Listen to me!”

“What?”

He waited and I didn’t know what to say.

Then I enquired, “If I ask nice, can I talk you out of rivers of blood?”

“Fuck no.”

Firm. Resolute.

Damn.

“Okay then, if I ask nice, will you explain the concept of ‘rivers of blood’ so perhaps I can plan how long I’ll need to visit you in the penitentiary?”

This was met with silence. Then Tack buried his face in my neck and burst into laughter. He slid out of me, his arms wrapped around me and he rolled to his back so I was on top and I felt him buck his hips as he jerked up his jeans.

I didn’t find anything funny.

And I decided to inform him of this fact by lifting my head to stare down at him and explaining, “See, I figure you’re commencing Operation Rivers of Blood because I was scared but mostly you’re commencing Operation Rivers of Blood because you’re a badass, scary biker dude who feels the need to piss around his property. Therefore, when you’re sent down for twenty-five to life, I feel I should probably express my appreciation by visiting you for a year, maybe two, before I find myself an accountant who only utters the words ‘rivers of blood’ while referring to, say, a movie or book of that title.”

Without buttoning his fly, his arms came back around me and gave me a squeeze, his head lifted, his mouth touched my neck to give me a light kiss and then he dropped his head back on another arm squeeze and muttered an amused, “Babe.”

I was still not amused. “It’s likely said movie or book title will be the true life story of Chaos MC and its President wreaking vengeance on the Russian mob in Denver.” I paused then finished, “Sorry to say, it doesn’t have a happy ending.”

He chuckled.

I glared.

Then I asked, “Is Lanie okay?”

“Shaken up and rethinking her vow never to get back together with Belova again because the shit they told her they were gonna do to him shook her up more than you all gettin’ kidnapped did. So now she says she wants to move with him to Sri Lanka or wherever the fuck. But other than that, they didn’t have time to do more before Hawk ended their party.”

Well, that was a relief.

“And Aunt Bette?”

“Hawk took her to your uncle. Reported in and apparently your aunt’s made of steel. Even fuckin’ Hawk Delgado was all about respect when he talked about her.”

Definitely Aunt Bette had secret ways.

I kept up my interrogation. “And why am I here?”

“Because you’re Chaos. They ain’t Chaos, darlin’.”

“Let’s explore that,” I suggested. “I’m Chaos?”

“Was my dick just in you?”

I fought an annoyed growl and said, “Uh… yeah.”

“Then you’re Chaos.”

“Is that all it takes?”

“That and pizza and puttin’ up with your attitude and watchin’ movies with you that make you cry, yeah, that’s all it takes.”

That was certainly interesting but I had other things I needed to explore.

Therefore, I moved on.

“What was that with Lanie?” I asked.

“What was what with Lanie?” was his uninformative response.

“Well, I’m naked in bed with you, who’s mostly naked. I work for you. I fight with you. I watched a movie with you, actually two, almost three. You brought me pizza –”

He cut in to demand, “Get to the point, darlin’.”

“You made her pancakes,” I stated on what sounded like an accusation because, well, it kind of was.

“So?”

“That’s it.”

“And?”

“Well, I think, should you happen upon our rescue vehicle after we’ve been kidnapped, considering all that, it should get to be me who rides away on the back of your bike with you, not Lanie.”

I saw the white flash of teeth surrounded by his dark goatee indicating he was smiling and got another squeeze before he whispered, “Jealous?”

Um… hell no.

So hell no, I was so pissed, I managed to yank straight out of his arms and I rolled. I got to my feet beside the bed righting my bra as I went in search of my underwear and shorts.

“Babe, get back in bed.”

“No, I’m going home.”

“Unh-unh, you’re gonna stop bein’ stupid and get your ass back in my bed.”

Uh… what did he just say? Stupid?

Hell no again!

I found my shorts and panties, separated them and started to tug my panties on. I did not succeed in this endeavor because Tack’s fingers jerked them from mine and he tossed them across the room. I watched their lightness flit through the dark and settle. I straightened, turned to Tack and then his fingers closed around my wrist and he jerked again, me this time. I went sailing, landing on him. He rolled us to our sides, his hands went into my pits and he hauled me up the bed then he rolled on top of me.

“Get off me, Tack.”

“Like I said, stop bein’ stupid.” He didn’t have to repeat the get back into bed part since he planted me there.

“Get off me.”

“Red –”

I lifted my head an inch off his pillow and hissed, “Do not play my best friend against me. That is not cool.”

This was met with silence and even though I was angry and felt I had a right to be, his silence was angry and it was scary.

Then he spoke. “No, Tyra, what is not cool is you thinkin’ for one fuckin’ second I’d do that.”

“You yourself just taunted me with ‘jealous’,” I mimicked his low, gravelly voice on the last word and the scary angry vibe ratcheted up about twelve levels on the scary and angry scale.

“I was teasin’ you. I didn’t think you actually believed I’d do somethin’ that fucked up.”

“Okay then, what’s the deal with you taking off with her?”

“The deal with me takin’ off with her is the reason you and your aunt got taken was because of her. They didn’t want you. But these guys are lethal, serious as shit. They do not mess around, they do not care about collateral damage and they’ll take every advantage they can get and suck it dry. They didn’t want you but they would have used you if they needed to. Not gonna fuckin’ happen. I told you this shit leaks and it leaked. So for your protection, and hers, she needed to be locked down. I locked her down.”

I had a lot of questions, including what the heck “locked down” meant but I prioritized them quickly and out of my mouth came, “Do you mind explaining to me why it was you who needed to lock her down?”

“Do you mind explainin’ to me why you’re questioning why it was me?”

This was a good question I wasn’t prepared to answer. And the reason I wasn’t prepared to answer it was because it hit me just then that he was right even though he’d been teasing. I was jealous. I was jealous of my own best friend. And acting like a moron. Acting like a moron in a variety of ways including the fact that I’d just had sex with Tack again. I didn’t even think about it, not that he gave me a chance, but even so, I didn’t think about it. I just did it and I liked it… a lot.

What was going on with me?

Having been kidnapped and having used Tack and how I felt about him as the way to keep my head straight while said kidnapping was happening and having just had sex with him, I felt it was time, finally, to figure that out.

Therefore, I ventured cautiously, “Um… perhaps we should discuss our relationship.”

“Yeah, we’ll discuss it by me tellin’ you you’re pretty fuckin’ lucky right now seein’ as I just came and came hard ‘cause ‘a you and that greedy pussy of yours so I’m feelin’ patient,” he stated, not sounding patient, not in the slightest. “So, since I’m feelin’ patient, I’ll take the time to explain even more shit to you. And the shit I’m gonna explain is that you do not tie a man like me down. You do not do that, Tyra. You try that shit, you’ll find yourself cut loose.”

It seemed pretty clear when I ventured cautiously, I didn’t venture cautiously enough.

Therefore, I ventured even more cautiously when I told him, “I’m, um… uncertain what you mean by tying you down.”

“Givin’ me that shit about playin’ you and your friend, askin’ me to explain myself. I do what I do and you gotta trust that I’ll do right by you. You tie me tight to you so I can’t breathe, I’ll find a way to get loose.”

“Am I…” I found the need to swallow, so I did and tried again. “Am I tied to you?”

“Not yet and I gotta tell you, with this bullshit, I’m rethinkin’ the hold I got on those strings.”

Uh…

Ouch.

That hurt. It hurt so much I felt my chest jerk back into the bed like he’d dealt a body blow. But even as my body responded to his verbal strike, my brain didn’t recover.

Yes, that’s how much it hurt.

I was venturing cautiously. Things were weird and wild and confusing and happening too fast and they needed to be sorted out.

Tack was definitely not venturing cautiously. Tack was being Tack, laying it out and being honest about it, brutally honest.

But he’d never been intentionally brutal to the point of being mean.

And no woman needed mean no matter if it came with honest.

Therefore, I whispered, “I want you to get off me, Tack.”

“I’m not gettin’ off you, Tyra. I’m pissed and you’re… whatever the fuck you are and we’re talkin’ this shit out. You’re not gonna hide away, lick your wounds and think up more shit, that, mind, is pure shit, to hold me back.”

“I’m not sure you get this but I’m not certain I want to hold onto your strings either,” I said quietly.

“Right, that you just came twice?”

“Pardon?”

“Babe, I asked, you didn’t hesitate to spread wide for me. I told you that mornin’ you started workin’ for me, I touched you, you’d spread wide and you did. You give attitude, darlin’, I enjoy it. It works. You got a way of dishin’ it out that makes me go hard and part ‘a the reason I go hard is I know, I get in there, it’s gonna be worth puttin’ up with your mouth but what I do not enjoy is this cat and mouse bullshit you got goin’ on.”

“Cat and mouse bullshit?”

“Hot for me one second, cold the next. Sweet then tart. You need more?”

“Has it occurred to you that this whole thing is a bit confusing for me?” I enquired.

“No shit?” he fired back. “Has it occurred to you I get that and that’s why I’m always explainin’ shit to you? Which, while we’re talkin’, I’m just sayin’, is gettin’ tired.”

Another verbal blow, direct hit, and the hurt spread.

I stared at him through the dark. Then I turned my head away and closed my eyes tight.

“Look at me, Red,” he demanded.

“Get off me, Tack,” I replied quietly.

“I said, look at me.”

I looked at him and felt his eyes on me. Then his hand curled around my jaw and his tone gentled when he spoke again.

“Baby –”

It was me who cut Tack off this time and I did it by whispering, “No,” then I turned my face away again.

His fingers brought me right back and when he had my eyes, he whispered, “Darlin’ –”

“I want to go home.”

“You’re not goin’ home.”

“Please take me home.”

“Baby, it’s after three in the morning. I’m not takin’ you home.”

“Then I’ll get a taxi.”

“Tyra –”

I lifted a hand, wrapped my fingers around his wrist tight and whispered, “I want to go home.”

His hand moved so his palm was against my jaw again and he whispered back, “You’re pissed.”

“No, I just want to go home.”

“Baby, this shit’s ever gonna work, we gotta be able to talk.”

“Tack, I’ve just decided I don’t want this shit to work.”

“Jesus, Tyra –”

“No!” I cried, shaking my head. “No one has ever talked to me that way. I don’t like it. It’s not nice.”

“It’s not nice, Red, but it’s real.”

“Well real hurts,” I returned then felt tears fill my eyes and I couldn’t see him very well and I didn’t know if he could see me but I didn’t want him to see me cry. So I let him go, pulled my face away and tried to slide out from under him but both his arms wrapped around me. He turned to his side, pulling me into him. I pressed my hands against his chest and exclaimed, “Stop it! If I want to go, I should be able to just go!”

Then my breath hitched and he had to have heard it. It was loud and I knew he knew I was crying.

Damn it!

I dipped my chin and shoved harder at his chest but his arms just got tighter and he threw a heavy thigh over my legs.

“Calm down, baby,” he whispered.

“Let me go,” I whispered back.

“Calm down a second.”

I bucked hard against his arms and shouted through my tears, “Let me go!”

“You need to settle and get it out,” he told me and I stilled then my tears stopped coming and my head snapped back to look into his face.

“I do?” I asked sarcastically. “Is that what I need to do, Tack? You know? Do you know what I need to do? Have you been hooded? Kidnapped? Bound? Have you ever lain in a dark room with your aunt, who you love like crazy, somewhere you don’t know where she is? Same with your best friend, who you love just as much? Have you lain there wondering what would become of you? Has that happened? Because if it has, then I’ll know you’ve got experience so I should listen to you and know how to behave.”

“Tyra –” he started but I kept going.

“I don’t know what to do with you. So if you think I’m hot and cold, that’s because you can be really nice and really not so nice so I’m just going with your flow. I’ve never known a man like you and I don’t know what to make of you. Because the nice seems worth it and then, like just now, you’re really, really not nice and I don’t know what to do.”

His hand slid up, fingers sifting into my hair, and he muttered, “Baby –”

I kept right on talking. “So if I’m taxing your patience, Tack, my apologies. I know what could help out with that. You could let me get out of your bed, get dressed, go home and quit my job so you won’t see me again. Right now, I have to say, that works for me because when you get angry and impatient, your words hurt and you don’t know me enough to know if I can withstand that so let me explain something to you. I can’t and I don’t want any part of it. And that is not me running cold on you and playing games, Tack. That’s me being real.”

After I finished speaking Tack was silent but, I will point out, he was silent while not letting me go.

Then he murmured a question to the room because he certainly wasn’t asking me, “What’d I get into when I got into this with you?”

But it was me who answered, “It doesn’t matter because, if you’d just let me go, we’re both out of it.”

His hand slid from the back of my head to my face, taking my hair with it and he whispered, “You think about our Saturdays, baby, and what we had just now and you tell me that me lettin’ you go is what you need, and you mean it, I’ll let you go.”

“I need you to let me go,” I stated instantly.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he was still whispering, “you didn’t even think about it.”

“You told me you’d rather cut off your own arm than hurt me, Tack, and you just hurt me. Hurt is more than physical pain. You dished it out not knowing if I could take it. And I can’t. That’s you and that’s me. You have to be you and you can’t be you around me without me getting chewed up in the process, so no. I don’t need to think about it because I know it’s going to happen again and I don’t want that in my life.”

“You’re right, Red, I can only be me but I’ll tell you this then I’ll let you go and you can leave or you can stay in this bed with me. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. But I know now I gotta handle you with more care and what you gotta trust is that I can do that. I let you loose and you roll outta my bed, that’s tellin’ me you don’t trust me. But I’ll say it straight. You can trust me to handle you with care. Now, baby,” his arms went loose and his voice dipped low, “you decide.”

I rolled immediately to my back away from him then to my side. Pushing up to sitting, I threw my legs over the side of the bed. My feet hit the floor and I moved quickly to my panties. Snatching them up, I yanked them up my legs.

They were blue. Pale blue with delicate pale green lace. The color combination was striking. I thought that when I bought them. Now, even in the dark, their shades muted, I could still see the colors.

I settled them on my hips and stared at the wall opposite me, my hands lifting, my fingers sliding into the sides of my hair, nails scratching my scalp.

Colors, vibrant colors sifted through my brain. Tack’s sapphire blue eyes. Tabby’s matching ones. The bright, cherry red of the car he was working on. The purple of the flowers in the field that Celie and Nettie played in in The Color Purple. The embroidery at the back of Lanie’s robe.

Vibrant.

Tack had been in this room maybe half an hour, forty-five minutes tops and I’d had two orgasms, I’d made him laugh, I’d been angry, I’d been scared and I’d felt protected. Alive through every minute of it. Vibrantly alive.

I dropped my hands and wrapped my arms around my middle.

Oh God. Could I go back to black and white?

Then his words came back to me, not just the hurtful ones he just spoke, others. He lived in a different world and I had to fit into that world, he told me so himself. And, frankly, his world was more than a little scary. He asked me to trust him but he was who he was. He wasn’t seventeen and becoming a man. He was… I didn’t know how old but he sure as hell was not seventeen.

He was the man he was going to be. There was no more growing, no more learning. He was there.

I hadn’t known him long but I knew enough about him, about men, that I knew he would expect me to shift and change and be who he needed me to be. He’d expect it like all men expected it because women did that shit all the time. But he was who he was and I had to take him as he was, shift and change into his life and I had to make the decision now. Take him as he came and live in color but do it in his world, giving up my own. Or go back to black and white and hope my real dream man would come and color my world again.

I made my heartbreaking decision, dropped my hands from my hair, bent and grabbed my shorts, muttering, “I’ll call a taxi.”

I was pulling up my shorts while hearing movement in the bed. And I was just about to search for my shirt when two arms slid around me from behind, one at my ribs, one at my chest, both pulling my back into Tack’s hard, warm front.

I felt the tickle of Tack’s goatee on the skin of my neck where he murmured, “Baby, you aren’t makin’ the right decision.”

Feeling his arms around me, the tickle of his goatee, I had second thoughts.

But my mouth didn’t.

“I need to go.”

“Don’t fuck up, Tyra,” he warned and I pulled in breath.

Then I quietly told the shadowy wall, “You don’t know this because you didn’t ask but I jumped off a roller coaster, Tack, one that was out-of-control and jumping off that took me to Ride. I don’t need to get off one and jump right back onto another. I have to get off the roller coaster.”

His arms gave me a squeeze and his lips still at my neck moved. “Tell me about your roller coaster, darlin’.”

“Too late,” I whispered. “Too late to ask now, Tack.”

He was silent a moment then he whispered back, “Don’t do this, baby.”

“Let me go.” I was still whispering. “I need to go.”

He didn’t let me go. Not for long, breathtaking moments.

Then he did.

He let me go.

I felt tears clog my throat but I rushed through the dark room to tag my tee.

As I was pulling it over my head, I heard his gravelly voice say, “I’ll get one of the boys to take you home.”

There it was. It was done.

Done.

Oh God.

I yanked the tee down and, with difficulty, swallowed the tears that were threatening to choke me. Then I asked softly, “Can Lanie call me tomorrow?”

Tack’s voice was remote when he replied, “I’ll get her that word.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, watching him moving toward the door.

“One ‘a the boys will be in to get you,” he told me, striding out the door.

“Thank you,” I repeated quietly to the door.

But Tack was gone.