Part 7 (1/2)
Chapter 11.
J.
It took everything in J.'s power not to throw her onto the bar and have her right then and there.
Her lips were just as soft as he had hoped. He pressed himself into her, the blood rus.h.i.+ng painfully to his groin. Letting his tongue circle hers, he pushed that kiss deeper and she responded with a soft, kittenish noise that inflamed him. He tasted the soft cream of her skin and it was a sweet as he'd hoped it would be.
Then she asked him to do the only thing he wanted to do.
J. pulled back from the kiss, ready to move. Rosie had a back room. Or they could go to the clubhouse. Or f.u.c.k, they could do it right here on the bar. He didn't give a s.h.i.+t, he needed to have this woman right now.
Her eyes fluttered at him, unfocused and dazed. She pitched forward, stumbling into his lap.
”Oh s.h.i.+t, Emmy? You okay?”
Her head lolled as she looked up at him. She raised her arms sleepily. ”Come back,” she slurred, eyelids half-closed.
J. punched himself in the thigh, hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. She was drunk. He wanted her, but not like this. ”Hey Emmy, you need to eat some more. Can you eat some more?”
”Noooo,” she pouted, but opened her mouth obediently to allow him to feed her a few more fries.
Doctor D. was suddenly at his side. ”How much did she have?” the older man asked. You could hear the medical training rus.h.i.+ng back to him.
J. racked his brain. ”I don't think that much. Two shots and a beer maybe?”
”That'd be enough for someone who doesn't drink much.” Doctor D. looked at him with his sharp eyes. ”She needs to go home, J. You okay to ride?”
J. stood up from his stool, testing. He slid his arms under Emmy, catching her before she slid to the floor. ”Yeah I think so. Emmy?”
”Hmmm?” She smiled sleepily up at him.
”Can you tell me where you live?”
She pouted. ”You're taking me back to him?”
”Him? Your roommate?”
”Not...roommate. Fiance.”
J. felt his heart sink. f.u.c.k. Of course she was engaged. If he had met her earlier he would have snapped her up too. He punched himself in the thigh again, willing his desire to cool, but her soft, yielding body against his was not helping.
Doctor D. picked up her pocketbook and pulled out her leather wallet. ”d.a.m.n, her ID says she live on Rittenhouse.”
J. looked down sharply. She was engaged and she was rich. He felt like a complete fool. Angrily he hauled her to her feet. ”Let's go Emilia. You need to hold on to me, okay?”
”Mmmm,” she hummed, but followed him out the door. He deposited her on the back of his bike without a word, then screeched into traffic without checking his mirrors.
He was a fool. A d.a.m.ned fool. She was a spoiled little princess who just wanted an adventure. All those feeling he had had while they talked, that connection, it had all been in his head. She just wanted to come down out of her palace and slum it for a while.
His anger made him ride faster. But when he felt her grip loosen, he willed himself to slow down. He was angry, but he didn't want to kill her.
But when he turned onto Walnut St. he had no choice but to come to a screeching halt. Traffic was still snarled in spite of the late hour. Posh customers were still pouring out of the clubs and high-end restaurants. They milled about on the sidewalks and spilled into the crosswalks. J. could feel their eyes on him and saw himself through their frightened eyes. Big black biker with a slumped over drunk white girl draped on his seat. It was his first day as a free man and yet he felt like a criminal all over again. He revved his engine at some gawkers in anger and three of them jumped back in terror. He was debating just pulling up onto the sidewalk and plowing through them when the light finally changed.
Emmy's building was right on the square, overlooking the leafy expanse of Rittenhouse Park. J. had grown up in Philadelphia, but this was not his Philadelphia. This was a paradise made only for the rich.
It hurt more than it should have to know Emmy was one of them.
”Okay girl, this is your stop, time to get off.” Emmy was slumped against his back. He could feel her soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressing against his back but was too keyed up to enjoy it. ”Emilia, wake the f.u.c.k up,” he growled.
She moaned a little, but stayed plastered against him.
”For f.u.c.k's sake.” J. turned around. Grasping her around the waist, he half wrestled, half carried her across the wide sidewalk in front of her building.
”Outta the way,” he growled at a startled looking old man who nearly walked into them.
The lobby doors slid smoothly open and he felt the blast of air conditioning hit him in the face. ”Who are you? Is that Miss Hawthorne?” a voice boomed across the marble hallway.
J. saw the badge first, then the pistol second. ”Stay right there and put your hands up!” the guard called. He was aiming at J.'s head.
”If I put my hands up, I'm gonna drop the girl.” J. knew he needed to keep calm.
The guard seemed befuddled for a moment. ”Then move slowly.”
”Where do you expect me to go?” J. saw the guard wasn't moving to call the cops, so he relaxed slightly. ”Hey look man, I'm not looking for trouble. This girl's ID says she lives here. You recognize her?”
”Of course I do,” the guard spat, but lowered his gun slightly.
”You know where she lives?”
”Yes of course.”
”Then why don't you come over here and help me make sure she gets home okay. Sound good?”
The guard looked at him suspiciously. Then he sighed and holstered his gun. ”What happened to her?” he asked, with some concern.
”Had a bit too much to drink.”
”She was drinking with...you?”
J. bristled. ”Look a.s.shole, I got her home in one piece, didn't I?”
The guard stepped back and looked him up and down. ”Sons of Steel, huh? I remember you guys from back when I was on the force. How the f.u.c.k did Miss Hawthorne end up with one of you?”
J. had had enough. ”Guess you'll have to ask her that, won't you.” He dragged Emmy over to the bank of elevators. ”Get her up to her place. I'm done here.”