Read Online Old Ghosts: Gypsy Riders MC by Honey Palomino - Free Book Online
Authors: Honey Palomino
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You could take the girl out of Texas, but not the Texas out of the girl, apparently. I had been in Los Angeles for months now, and I still couldn’t bring myself to wear what seemed to be the style here. The last thing I wanted was a pair of Manolo Blahnik pumps or a Chanel dress. Give me comfort over fashion any day.
I was glad I had made the right choice today, at least in what I was wearing. As much as I liked Mike, I had been wrestling with my decision to go out with him all night and day. Part of me was extremely excited about it, aroused even, how could I not be excited that someone like him had asked me out? But at the same time, I knew I wasn’t ready for another relationship. Not after what had happened with Todd.
In the end, I decided I was jumping the gun. Mike had just asked me out for a drink, that was it. He probably just wanted to get in my pants, anyway. What was I thinking about relationships for already?
Besides, I thought, I could use some fun for a change. I hadn’t explored much of this crazy new city, telling myself I was healing, I was settling in, but in reality, I was afraid. I was afraid of beginning another life. What if I ended up making bad choices again? Was dating an outlaw biker really that much of a stretch to think it might be a bad idea?
Sure, Mike was different. He was sweet, he was kind, but Todd was too, in the beginning. Sure, Mike had Rosie, and Rosie was the sweetest kid ever, but I was her teacher, and that was even more of a reason not to get involved with him.
So, I told myself, I just wouldn’t do it. I’d keep it all superficial and light. I’d keep my heart closed, and just have a good time with him.
It was just a drink.
And now, a ride. A ride that turned out to be a completely sensuous experience. Once I was on the bike, and he was seated in front of me, he grabbed my thighs and squeezed them around his own. I blushed, thankful he couldn’t see me this time, as I sat behind him and felt his hips between my legs. When he reached back and grabbed my hands, wrapping them around his waist tightly, I was hesitant to grip him too tightly. Until he started the bike, and I jumped at the violent vibrations of the bike beneath us. It was so much more intense than I imagined, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with fear for my safety and everything else melted away.
When Mike accelerated and we began moving down the street, I held on as tightly as I could to him. I felt his abs moving in laughter as he reached back and patted my thigh reassuringly and we moved through the city, the bright lights passing by us in a blur.
After five minutes, I was able to relax and I was in love with it. The rushing air, the vibrations, the warmth exuding from him, the confidence with which he maneuvered the bike through traffic, like it was an extension of his strong body — all those things served to not only thrill me to the core, but created a sense of safety I had never felt before. It was ironic, considering in the back of my mind, I knew not having a metal cage around us and hurtling ourselves down the road with nothing between the hard pavement and our skulls but a fiberglass helmet was definitely more dangerous.
But it wasn’t our physical condition that made me feel safe.
It was the man I was wrapped around. He was solid, he was strong, and yet he was kind and gentle.
Todd had never been gentle.
When we pulled up to the boardwalk at Venice beach, I looked around in awe and delight. I hadn’t made it here yet, and it was everything you saw in the movies. People everywhere, most in bikinis and beach wear, and some even roller-skating down the sidewalk as street musicians played their hearts out, their guitar cases full of crumpled dollar bills.
We left our helmets on the bike, and began strolling down the boardwalk.
“This is crazy,” I said, referring to the crowd and performance artists around us.
“I know, I love it. You said you hadn’t gotten out much, and so I thought
I was glad I had made the right choice today, at least in what I was wearing. As much as I liked Mike, I had been wrestling with my decision to go out with him all night and day. Part of me was extremely excited about it, aroused even, how could I not be excited that someone like him had asked me out? But at the same time, I knew I wasn’t ready for another relationship. Not after what had happened with Todd.
In the end, I decided I was jumping the gun. Mike had just asked me out for a drink, that was it. He probably just wanted to get in my pants, anyway. What was I thinking about relationships for already?
Besides, I thought, I could use some fun for a change. I hadn’t explored much of this crazy new city, telling myself I was healing, I was settling in, but in reality, I was afraid. I was afraid of beginning another life. What if I ended up making bad choices again? Was dating an outlaw biker really that much of a stretch to think it might be a bad idea?
Sure, Mike was different. He was sweet, he was kind, but Todd was too, in the beginning. Sure, Mike had Rosie, and Rosie was the sweetest kid ever, but I was her teacher, and that was even more of a reason not to get involved with him.
So, I told myself, I just wouldn’t do it. I’d keep it all superficial and light. I’d keep my heart closed, and just have a good time with him.
It was just a drink.
And now, a ride. A ride that turned out to be a completely sensuous experience. Once I was on the bike, and he was seated in front of me, he grabbed my thighs and squeezed them around his own. I blushed, thankful he couldn’t see me this time, as I sat behind him and felt his hips between my legs. When he reached back and grabbed my hands, wrapping them around his waist tightly, I was hesitant to grip him too tightly. Until he started the bike, and I jumped at the violent vibrations of the bike beneath us. It was so much more intense than I imagined, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with fear for my safety and everything else melted away.
When Mike accelerated and we began moving down the street, I held on as tightly as I could to him. I felt his abs moving in laughter as he reached back and patted my thigh reassuringly and we moved through the city, the bright lights passing by us in a blur.
After five minutes, I was able to relax and I was in love with it. The rushing air, the vibrations, the warmth exuding from him, the confidence with which he maneuvered the bike through traffic, like it was an extension of his strong body — all those things served to not only thrill me to the core, but created a sense of safety I had never felt before. It was ironic, considering in the back of my mind, I knew not having a metal cage around us and hurtling ourselves down the road with nothing between the hard pavement and our skulls but a fiberglass helmet was definitely more dangerous.
But it wasn’t our physical condition that made me feel safe.
It was the man I was wrapped around. He was solid, he was strong, and yet he was kind and gentle.
Todd had never been gentle.
When we pulled up to the boardwalk at Venice beach, I looked around in awe and delight. I hadn’t made it here yet, and it was everything you saw in the movies. People everywhere, most in bikinis and beach wear, and some even roller-skating down the sidewalk as street musicians played their hearts out, their guitar cases full of crumpled dollar bills.
We left our helmets on the bike, and began strolling down the boardwalk.
“This is crazy,” I said, referring to the crowd and performance artists around us.
“I know, I love it. You said you hadn’t gotten out much, and so I thought
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