Justice: Lady Guardians by Turner Xyla

Author:Turner, Xyla
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AZINA MEDIA PUBLICATIONS
Published: 2018-07-12T16:00:00+00:00

7

Justice

This man was driving me crazy and the irrational part about it was that, all seemed to agree that not only did I need to get laid, but I needed to let that man at least try to curl my toes. I wasn’t in agreement with what they were saying but he was wearing me out, with his persistence alone. Plus, I was hungry and hadn’t had sex in years. It was long overdue. His speech was a nicer touch, because he was right. I felt undermined.

“I’ll meet you there,” I told him as I went to pull away from him and head towards my bike.

A noise that sounded very much like a scoff was released from Alaric, which had me turning around.

“Oh, fuck no,” he huffed. “We go together.”

I laughed out loud and waved him over.

“Come on, jump on.” I said in a casual manner that made the usually cocky man, guffaw.

“I’m not riding bitch,” he exclaimed.

This had me falling over laughing and hitting my thigh.

“Aww, what’s wrong with riding bitch?” I could barely get it out from laughing so hard. “’Fraid, I might rock your world, Mr. Toe Curler.”

Alaric extended his hand towards his car and hit the alarm. The car unlocked, windows rolled down and music began to play.

“Not afraid of anything, sweetheart.” He nodded towards his vehicle. “Now, get your ass in the car. We’ll see who’ll rock who later.”

I shrugged my shoulders and got in. The man talked a lot of shit. I was praying that he could come through on at least one of those items.

We rode to the restaurant in what felt like minutes as we discussed his not riding bitch. He shared that he actually enjoyed riding, but never really had a reason to buy a motorcycle. He would ride with his cousin in Lancaster, where he had more land to just do a free run. He seemed to know more about the biker world than I would expect a district attorney to know, but the more I talked to him, the more he surprised me. There was a sensitive or understanding of him that was usually not present with other lawyers. He seemed to be able to speak to a variety of topics with expertise that went beyond the surface level.

“So, tell me about you. Alaric Hunt, not the D.A., but the man.” I challenged.

“Well, I’m an only child. I think we have that in common. Wait, do you want my resume or me? Me, now?”

He was watching me, as if this answer mattered.

“I’ve read your resume, Alaric. I’m interested in the man.” I replied with a challenging eyebrow lift.

“Fair,” he replied. “Me now. Well, in full honesty. I’m not where I want to be but working to get there. I own my home, work sixty hours a week, I try to play as hard as I work because that’s just fucked if you don’t. I want to be a good district attorney, then move on or up, one day. Settling down is in my future, so are kids.

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