Page 19 of Submit (Two Wheeled Psychos #3)

When I planned the trip to Miami, it was just supposed to be a few days of racing on the track with Daniel, getting in my fill of the bike to hold me over for the warmer months up north.

Never did I expect to find a woman to spend the time with, or that I would be doing less track riding and more sightseeing from the bike with said woman attached to my back.

The mornings are spent doing laps with my buddy before the heat of the day sets in, then in the afternoons, Millie and I cruise through the streets and neighborhoods like a newly wed couple sightseeing on their honeymoon. That’s how it feels too, at least for me.

We talk about everything. I tell her about my mother, and growing up poor, and how I made myself.

She tells me about her parents and her younger sister, and how she ended up in Kelly’s and in the clutches of Tyler the dick.

It really isn’t that crazy of a story but it’s sad that a young woman like her just wanted someone to see her for who she truly is, and he came along. I feel sorry for her.

A few times in the past few days, I’ve seen her checked out, her gaze lost in nowhere, with her eyes blank and void.

She’s thinking about something, something that’s on her mind that she won’t tell me.

I’ve shrugged it off a few times now, and as we sit across from each other at a small café having cappuccinos and biscotti, it’s bothering me, maybe more than it should.

“Is everything okay?” I ask her, leaning my elbows on the table, looking in her green eyes that have lost focus again.

“Hmmm?” She says quietly with a shake of her head like I roused her from whatever is taking her over. “Yeah. All good.” She sighs, and I can tell it’s anything but.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. No biggie.”

“You can talk to me about anything, you know that right?”

“Adrian, we’ve just met.” She sighs, taking a sip of her coffee, her lips barely touching the rim of the warm cup.

“And look at all we’ve done, all we’ve shared. Bunny, you’re mine now. You even said so. So talk to me.”

“I will. But not now.”

“Fine. As you wish.”

I’m not used to people telling me no, or to wait, it’s just not how I’ve accepted things all my adult life, but with her, it’s different. If she needs time, I’ll give her time, for now. But I don’t like it.

After another episode of her blanking out again, she comes back, blinking rapidly, and surprises me when she speaks.

“I need a phone.” She says matter of factly.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I’d like to have one I mean, if you don’t mind. In case we get separated, or I want to take pictures, you know.”

It feels more like a demand than a request, and something in me is telling me that whatever is in her head is the driving for force behind it.

It’s a normal thing to have though, everyone has a phone in their hand all the time, even me, so with a wave of my hand to dismiss the feeling that toils in my guts I quietly accept with a nod and a smile.

“No problem. Finish your drink and we’ll go get one.”

“Really?” She asks surprised, her eyebrows shooting up on her forehead.

“Yes baby. Anything for you.”

“You’re too good to me.” She squeals, jumping up, reaching over the table, grabbing the back of my head and pulling my lips to hers.

She kisses me like she never has before, with a feeling I’ve yet to savor, and I can’t put my finger on what it is. I like it, and I don’t, and I can’t figure out why.

~~~

Her demeanor changes the moment that she fires up her new phone, playing with all the functions, and snapping pictures of me, the view from the bike, and everything that we see throughout the evening.

There’s pictures of the posh restaurant we’re in, our dinner, and dessert, and even one of me sliding a forkful of carrot cake past her pretty lips.

“I want that one, text it to me.” I say to her as she sets the new device down on the rustically Italian dressed table and looks at me with a new found adoration.

“Absolutely, Sir.” She says all sultry with a lowered voice and small rasp to her words, making parts of me wake up that have been quiet all day.

“My bunny have something on her mind?” I ask, taking another bite of the moist cake with cream cheese frosting, and washing it down with a sip of premium whiskey.

“Maybe.”

“Mmmm, do tell me.”

“It’s a surprise.” She says, turning her face down, but looking up at me with eyes that promise something devious and fun.

“I love surprises.”

“Not yet though. I like it here and I’d like to stay awhile.”

“Wanna sit outside, and enjoy the evening with some wine?” I ask her, flagging over the red vested waiter who hustles over to us immediately. Money talks in places like this, and they always make sure to accommodate me very well. “Space for two outside please.”

“Right away Mister Lambert.” He says, rushing out the patio doors to prepare a spot for us in the alfresco lounge.

When he returns with a large bottle of champagne in his hands and two tall flutes, he motions for us to follow him with a big grin and broad smile on his youthful face.

He’s extremely pleasant and has done an amazing job of looking at me and not Millie with every interaction. He’s earned himself a hefty tip.

Slapping a couple of hundreds in his hand with a hearty shake, I take the bottle and dainty glasses and set them down on the wooden and tile coffee table in front of a beautiful love seat that sits on the patio and faces the ocean.

It's the ideal location to end a beautiful day and spending it with the stunning woman on my arm makes it beyond perfection.

The ocean breeze blows in, bringing with it the scents of salt and sand, and moves the little clear Christmas lights that dangle from the white wooden trellis and arbor that block the sight of the streets on the side of the restaurant, making the view solely in the direction of the beach and it’s crashing waves.

Green vines with small white flowers fill in the gaps between the lattice work and make the lights look more festive for the holiday, even though it’s eighty degrees out and humid as hell.

The seat sinks down as I sit, pulling Millie into my lap, so that her legs are draped over my thighs and her shoulder rests on my chest. The waiter pops open the champagne as I get her situated, and hands each of us a tall bubbling glass before he dips out and goes back inside, leaving us alone in the tranquility of the quiet evening.

“This is so nice. And the view.” She says, looking out over the beach and the black water.

“I agree, the view is the best.” I reply, looking down at her, peering into her cleavage that spills from the top of her lacey little peasant top.

“Fiend.”

“Never said I wasn’t.”

With a clinking of our glasses together I take a sip of the dry yet sweet bubbly and pull her head to my chest, just reveling in the feel of her on and against me. It is perfect, and I never want the night to end.

The sound of a cell phone ringing around us breaks my attention on the pretty way her breasts swell with each breath, because it’s not mine and we’re the only ones on the patio, and her phone is brand new.

She stiffens against me, but doesn’t move, and when the ringing stops, she settles on me once again.

“Was that yours?” I ask her, and she looks at me, nervously chewing her lower lip between her front teeth.

“No. I don’t know whose it was.”

I can tell she’s lying, and the peacefulness the evening has brought me is shattered. Why would she be lying to me, and who the fuck would she have given her brand new number to already, besides me, and I obviously didn’t call her.

The erection that was rising in my pants deflates, and my mood turns from happy to sour, but I hide it for now, because I doubt she’ll tell me the truth even if I ask again.

I hate liars, but there has to be a reason, right?

Sensing the shift in my demeanor, she stiffens again and after a moment she pushes her hair out of her face and climbs off my lap.

“I’ll be back in a minute, little girls’ room.” She says and grabs her purse, slinging it over her shoulder.

“You wanna leave that here with me? I’ll watch it for you.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I need it.”

I can’t hide the little scowl that spreads on my face as she walks back inside the restaurant, leaving me in solitude on the seat, watching the ocean all by myself while I know she’s inside calling someone.

If it’s Tyler, I’m going to punish her, and kill him.

I can’t imagine why she would be wanting to talk to him, and about what.

He was her abuser, the man who hurt her not only mentally and emotionally, but physically.

The marks on her ankles from the metal shackles she wore the day I took her from him are still there. They look better, but they will scar.

I’m searching up trauma bond on my cell when she finally reappears. A soft pink lipstick is spread across her lips and topped with a shiny gloss.

She took her purse for her makeup you bought her you dick.

Immediate regret for not trusting her washes over me, and I swallow my feelings while shutting down my phone and open my arms back up for her.

“Sit bunny.”

She joins me once again, and the night passes quickly and quietly. No more phones ring, no cars beep their horns, nothing. The evening is peaceful and serene until the little lights shut off above us and it’s time to hop back on the bike and head to the hotel.

We fly out tomorrow to head home to New York, and for our final night here, I just want it to be calm and serene, filled with the short ride back, and hours spent in bed with her in my arms, and my dick in all her holes.