Complete Submission - 2018 Edition: The Complete Series Box Set with Bonus Story by C.D. Reiss

Author:C.D. Reiss [C.D. Reiss]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary Romance, Erotic Romance, BDSM
ISBN: 9781942833581
Publisher: Flip City Media Inc.
Published: 2018-06-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 67

MONICA

“Saying I don’t know what I’m dealing with is plain insulting.”

We were on the matte black rocket, which I loved because I had my arms around him, inside his jacket, and I could feel the angles and bumps of his body. I’d tucked my skirt around my thighs to his satisfaction so I wouldn’t expose my pantie-less glory to Los Angeles. Once that was settled, he’d put my helmet on me as if to cut off any further discussion. Talking to him when he was a disembodied voice was hard. I didn’t want to wait until we got to my house to talk to him because we’d be in a private place and he’d try to shut me up with sex again. It would work, for the hundredth time.

“I’m not insulting you. I’m telling the truth. Jessica can teach Machiavelli a few things,” he said through the speaker in my helmet.

“I need to see your face.”

“You’ll see plenty.”

“Stop the bike.”

We were on Sunset, by the Junction, the one neighborhood where people gathered on the street, walking from bar, to restaurant, to bar, to home.

“We’ll be to your house in eight minutes.”

“Now.”

He stopped at a light and pulled off his helmet. His hair spiked and curled with the disruption, and when he turned to me, incredulity was in his eyes. I couldn’t hear what he said, and I folded my arms. I meant what I said, no matter his unheard response.

He held the corner of the helmet to his lips, and his voice came through my helmet. “You don’t get to give orders.”

I pulled off my helmet. I could only imagine what it did to my hair, but I was past giving a shit. I put the helmet on the seat and slid off the bike.

“Monica.”

“Jonathan.”

The light changed. Horns shrieked. Curses cut the night. Jonathan and I stared at each other as our lane slowly sifted around us.

“What’s the problem?” he asked, paying the flipped birds around us no mind.

“I want to talk, and I want to do it somewhere you can’t fuck me.”

“You think dragging me into a coffee shop is going to stop me from fucking you? Shit, if I want you in the middle of this intersection, I’ll take you.”

He would, too. But also, he wouldn’t.

I stepped away from the bike. A dented Acura came to a screeching halt inches from me.

“Fuck!” Jonathan shouted, swinging his leg over the seat as if he was about to cradle my broken body in his arms.

The Acura’s driver cried obscenities. Something about me being a stupid fucking bitch. Blah blah. I’d been called worse on a random Tuesday night at the bar. I flipped him off without even looking, walking backward, drawing Jonathan out of the street.

But what I considered a meaningless gesture, the driver considered a call to arms. He leaned so far out of the car I had no idea how his foot stayed on the brake. “Get your big flapping twat outta the street, you bitch whore!”

Jonathan put the kickstand down on the bike, which I didn’t understand.

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