Page 15 of Freaks Of Nature

My head swivels to throw a glance over my shoulder down the alley. The rush of fear mixed with adrenaline is an utterly new high to me. It’s addicting.

I refocus on Ash. The thrill of running into my stalker makes me want to take a risk, and the words tumble from me before common sense can put a damper on my high.

“Let’s go to your place.”

I catch the glimmer of surprise and delight in his eyes before I unhook my helmet to climb on behind him.

“Ready?”

The engine rumbles between my thighs. He angles his head toward me, and I reply with ayepas I wrap my arm around him.

We haul ass through the streets.

I swear Ash is racing his own shadow the way he rides. Timing each stoplight perfectly, he swerves around cars that appear to stand still.

My heart batters my ribcage with the ongoing rush of adrenaline. I don’t know where he’s taking us, but we’re quickly leaving the busy downtown scene behind.

The drive is not far, though. After a few minutes, he decelerates on a long stretch of road flanked with single family homes.

No wonder he considers my living arrangements low standard.

Only I could never afford to live here. Not on my own. With a roommate maybe; once I got a better job than waitressing.

A garage door rises a short distance ahead. Making a stealthy approach, he slows to a crawl; at least compared to the speed we were going earlier. It’s the middle of the night, and he probably doesn’t want to piss off the neighbors.

He cuts the engine as we pull in.

“Don’t tell me you still live with your parents,” I probe with trepidation, removing my helmet.

Ash throws back a laugh, then shakes his head. “No.”

Living in a house instead of an apartment makes him appear so grown up. He’s too good to be true.

I notice that the garage is big enough to fit two cars, but has been converted to a workshop for his bike. There’s tools and painting equipment too.

Ash closes the garage behind us and takes my hand to lead me into the house. There’s a living room to our left, an open concept kitchen to our right, and a hallway straight ahead,which is what he tows me toward, peering back at me over his shoulder.

The hooded look in his eyes makes my stomach quiver. I know we’re both eager to pick up where we left off after getting interrupted on our date.

His free hand twists the knob of the door at the end. I assume it’s the master. We passed by a second bedroom that’s shut, and if Ash does indeed have a roommate, he must be out since there was no other vehicle in the garage.

Lucky me.

Ash’s room is tidy. Other than a very inviting king-sized bed, a dresser with a TV on it, and a lounge chair in the corner, there’s not much to it I can see in the ambient lighting coming in through the curtains.

He tugs me over the threshold and lets go of my hand before shutting the door.

I sit down on the long side of the bed, leaning back on my hands to watch him take off his hoodie and shirt in one go. He chucks the bulk toward the chair, then gets to unlacing his boots.

I kick my sneakers off in response too.

When he straightens, I finally get a good, long look at him. He’s marvelous. Lean muscle flexes under my attention, drawing my curiosity to his tattoos. The designs spread up his shoulders and over his chest.

Both sides are covered with ink of images and words. I make out some skulls, tendrils of smoke and snakes, all in a very dark theme. I associate them with violence and death. A dark past perhaps?

My eyes skip over his smooth chest and latch onto the trail of hair disappearing in the waistband of his jeans.

I bite my lip as my thighs twitch. I remember him mentioning being pierced in more places than just his tongue, and since I can now see it’s not his nipples…