"You, Half Pint, are your own course subject!"
His eyebrows raise, pleased with himself and his comments.
I can't help it when my hand flies out and slaps him across his beautiful face.
I'm stunned, staring at my hand when I hear Emmett yell "Whoa!" Some of the customers are moving out of the way and others are laughing at the spectacle in front of them. "What the hell is going on?"
I turn and fume at my brother. "I would like this man removed from the bar immediately!" I say formally and point towards the exit.
"What did he do? All I saw was talking." Emmett looks to me and then at Manchu, trying to figure out what happened. Being a good boss and an even better big brother, he takes my request seriously. "Jesus. All right Edward, I guess you should go. Iz seems upset, and I can't have that." He says to Manchu and the jerk stands, hands up in acceptance.
"No problem Emmett. I guess I got the little lady here a tad upset. I have to go anyway." Emmett claps him on the back and I'm disturbed he's being friendly to this guy. 'Edwin' or whatever stupid name Emmett called him walks backwards towards the front door, smiling at me. "Until next time, Professor." He drawls out the word and raises his hand to his forehead and pretends to tip a hat.
After we watch him walk out the door, Emmett turns to me. "Iz, why don't you go cool off, huh? Go to my office or something. Take five." Emmett pushes me towards the back of the bar, and I walk out, grabbing a bottle of beer on my way.
I bypass the office in favor of fresh air and push open the heavy door forcefully. It bangs against the brick and rushes back to almost hit me, but I could care less at the moment.
I walk over to the side of the building without the lights, but all that does is remind me of the last time I was out here. I walk back the other way, wishing desperately that I was a smoker.
A motorcycle engine revs up in the bike lot, and voices carry from the front entrance. They're not uncommon sounds around here so I pay no attention and open my beer, taking a long swallow and pace the length of the building, letting off a little excess energy.
The smell of exhaust and motor oil is soothing to me, it's a scent I grew up around and I feel myself start to relax. I watch my motorcycle boots as I start walking heel to toe, heel to toe, trying to get control of my emotions. Another sip of beer, another lap on the asphalt, and I'm about ready to go back in.
I glance up at the bike that's still idling and fuck me.
"Oh, hell no!" I exclaim loudly, and kick the wall behind me. Sitting about a hundred feet away from me, straddling a beautiful vintage Harley, is none other than the cause of my distress. And he looks fucking good.
He has the audacity to be sitting with his arms crossed at his chest, grinning at me.
"Please, please! Tell me this isn't happening!" I raise my head up to the sky, looking for some divine intervention.
"I would say that I'm your wildest dream, but I like my pretty face too much to get slapped again." He uncrosses his arms and rests his hands on his thighs; one foot lifting up to perch on a peg.
I don't even know what to say at this point, and I'm thrown that I'm finding him so hot like this. I bring my beer to my mouth and drink, my eyes never leaving his, hoping I'll think of something witty. I've never been at such a loss for words before. I don't like it.
"Seriously, Iz, is it? I apologize if I offended you in any way in there."
If I was speechless before, I'm even more so looking at his face that holds no trace of the signature smugness.
"I really hope you'll forgive me." He gets off his bike and starts walking towards me, hands outstretched. He looks sincere and I hate it.
"You just get me going. I can't explain it. It's like I was born to tease you." His leather pants get closer and the tone in his voice is one of adoration. He's even put his palms over his heart.
"Besides, you're so fucking sexy when you're angry. It's not my fault." At this point, he's right in front of me. He takes the bottle from my hand and brings it to his mouth, finishing what's left, staring at me the whole time.
"…" My mouth opens and closes without saying a thing, disgracing me.
"Can I show you how sorry I am, Half Pint?" His eyes haven't left mine, and the fire in them makes me tingly.
I shake my head and take a step back. "Stop it. Stop doing that. Stop being Jekyll and Hyde." Hypocritical, I know.
"How am I Jekyll and Hyde?" He laughs.
"Are you jerky, coffee-drinking suit guy or sexy biker guy?" My eyes widen when I realize I called him sexy. Fuck.
"I'm both, I suppose." He's laughing at me now.
"Accountants can't be sexy bikers."
"Accountants can't ride motorcycles?" I shake my head at him. "Come on, I'll show you my bike. It's what I say to all the pretty girls."
He takes my hand in his and while I'm wary, I let him lead me to the beautiful machinery. "Do you ride, Half Pint, or is this all for show?"
"I've been riding since I was seventeen." I say as I'm concentrating on the bike. It's fucking gorgeous. One of a kind, a classic. I'm so mesmerized I don't realize he kind of just insulted me again.
"You ride a 1966 Shovelhead. Unbelievable." My hand ghosts over the oval shaped gas tank, painted a classic Americana red and white.
The surprise is evident in Manchu's voice. "Sixty-seven actually. You're familiar with the Shovelhead?"
"Sure. The cooler running aluminum engine heads, not to mention its propensity for the less noisy drivetrain. Dude, it was innovative. Do you find it holds onto more oil?"
When he doesn't answer, I look up to find him gaping at me.
"Have I made you speechless, Manchu?" I can't help but grin at him.
"Very. Why are you calling me Manchu?"
I ignore his question. "Think I can keep you that way? I like you quiet."
"There is nothing sexier than a girl that knows her bikes. Except you, knowing my bike."
"I'm still having a hard time believing this is yours." I look back at him, his stare is unnerving, but I don't look away. I don't think I can. "Let me guess, midlife crisis?"
Manchu doesn't break his gaze as he reaches over and turns off the engine, pocketing the key.
"Oh I'm an old pro. I'm not as boring as you seem to think." I watch as he rubs his hand over the leather seat. "Why don't you get up and sit on my bike, Half Pint?" He smirks.
"If I didn't want to sit on your bike so much, I'd slap you again." He grabs my hand and moves it to the throttle.
"Go ahead. Get on."
I put my foot on the peg while holding onto the throttle and move my other leg over the seat. I can't help but move my ass a little to settle in, and grab the other grip with my left hand. This bike feels good. This bike feels powerful. I know it's much heavier than what I'm used to, but I'd love to take it for a ride some day. I start imagining riding behind Manchu, my arms holding tightly onto his abdomen, feeling his muscles contract and react to my touch.
"It's ok." Is all I say, trying to sound nonchalant.
His eyes grow big. "It's ok? It's ok? She says it's ok. Sweetheart, you have no idea the power between your legs right now." I think he's actually talking about the bike now and I'm surprised when he doesn't turn it into something sexual.
I think I've found his kryptonite.
"Well, I've sat on better."
"There is no way you've had something better than this between those legs." He seems a tad upset, and I'm enjoying myself.
I remove my hands from the bars and swing my leg over the gas tank so I'm sitting sidesaddle, facing him.
"Eh." I shrug. I look back up at him and there's fire in his eyes, boring down at me and I swallow.
"Half Pint, trust me. You've never had something better between your legs." He moves quickly and is hovering over me, looming, putting me in his shadow. The security light behind him cloaks his face in darkness so I can't see his features, and then I hear a low growl. "Until I get myself there."
I feel his mouth cover mine hungrily before I've even see him lunge and my body betrays me. My hands reach up and grasp his vest, pulling him to me and kissing him ferociously. We're devouring one another, the animosity and lust evident in the force of the kiss.
He towers over me, the closeness of his body forces mine to lean back. Our mouths never separate and I feel him nudging me to turn. I spin my upper body so my back is laying flat on the tank, while I feel his hand grab my left leg and pull it up, positioning it on the other side of the bike. I'm now straddling the machine backwards, my legs spread on either side. He presses into me, his mouth and lips and teeth consuming mine. I feel his chest press against my hardened nipples and I groan, pulling my mouth from his.
"Touch me." I whisper. Oh god, I'm a whore.
I cover my embarrassment by clamping my mouth back to his and I feel his hand start to ghost up my side, grazing the outside of my leather halter top, his fingers reaching the bare skin next to my breast. He starts to move it back down and I break away again.
"Touch me already!" He pulls back and looks down at me, his eyes bright and his smirking mouth red and used.
He glances down at his hand and he watches as he slowly moves it back to where it was, his thumb hooking under the halter, brushing the side of my breast. I arch into him, needy, and he slips another finger under the fabric. He lowers his head and lets out a moan as he licks my cleavage. I'm about to scream at the want inside of me being denied.
"Tell me, Sweetheart, do you have ink everywhere?" He moves to kiss the side of the breast where his fingers have slipped below the leather. "Under here?" I feel his breath hot against my skin, and then his tongue following, coming dangerously close to my excited nipple.
I make some strangled noise and notice his other hand that was resting on the handlebar slide down, moving over my side and to my hip reaching the bottom of my leather shorts.
"Or here?" His finger slithers up under the hem and sweeps over the inside of my thigh.
His close proximity near my promised land all of a sudden makes me skittish and I remember where we are.
"Stop, stop!" I push at Manchu and he quickly removes his hands and stands upright.
"What's wrong?" He asks in breathy concern.
"We're in the fucking parking lot of my brother's bar!" I push him farther from me and jump off the bike, grabbing the discarded bottle he put on the ground as I hurry away.
"There's no one out here." I can hear him following me, so I whirl around and face him.
"Someone could come out here at any moment! I'm not going to be caught making out with a guy I can't stand by some random customer."
"So you still can't stand me? After that?" He waves towards the bike. "You seemed to like me a minute ago."
The fact that he's panting turns me on to no end, and I know I have to get away from him. "Shut up!" It's all I can think of so I turn to go back into the bar, my hand landing on the knob. In a flash, his hand covers mine, halting my movement, and I feel his chest press against my back.
His head lowers and his gravelly voice assails my ear. "Oh Professor, what would your students think if you couldn't teach your subject from experience? I think you like it out here, where we could be caught." I swallow when his lips touch my ear. "What's stopping you?"
I breathe deeply to get oxygen into my brain, cause lord knows I'm about to faint, and answer, "Nothing. I just don't like you." I hope he can't hear the quiver in my voice.
"I don't recall you complaining just a second ago." I watch his hand leave mine on the knob and glide up my arm. His fingers are trailing the vines of my tattoos, getting higher and reaching my shoulder. His other hand comes up to my neck and moves my hair away, exposing the skin for his greedy mouth, where he sucks the flesh near my collarbone. "I have a question, Professor. Have you ever been fucked outside?"
My breath leaves me in a whoosh, betraying me. I feel my stomach muscles clench at the mention of a long-standing fantasy.
"No." My chest is heaving, my heart beating rapidly at the fact I'm exposing myself to this man.
"Pity. Do you want to be?"
I am unable to lie, so I go for half-truths. "I don't know."
"I think you do know." The growl in his voice is my undoing, his want for me evident, which makes me lose my mind.
"Yes, I want that."
His mouth is moving over my heated skin, barely kissing, heading towards the back of my neck. "Have you ever fucked in a car?"
I whisper my answer, almost ashamed to have to admit I missed out on something most people have done at least once in their teenage lives. "No."
"How about inside your establishment?" He pauses, waiting for me to answer. When I don't, he continues. "The bathroom of a seedy club?"
I just shake my head, no.
I feel him inhale against me before he speaks. "Half Pint," he hesitates, the movement of his mouth pausing. "Have you ever had sex anywhere other than a bed? Anywhere considered…deviant?"
I consider lying, I also consider kicking him and going back into the bar, but I know if I don't answer this truthfully, I may never experience those things. And in this moment, I want to admit it. He might just be the one to give it to me.
"No." I shake again and close my eyes.
"Oh, Izzy, who's been neglecting you? Who hasn't taken advantage of the depraved woman I know lives inside of you?" His hot tongue licks my neck in one large sweeping motion, making me tremble. "I'd fuck you on my motorcycle right now if you'd let me." He pulls his mouth from my body and I turn my head to look at him.
His eyes bore into me, full of lust, and I've never felt so wanted in my life.
"What do you say, hmmm? Want to go for a ride?"
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From the planetblue Archive of Awesome Fic List:
The Real Life of E A Masen by Vancouver-Canuck-Girl
Edward Cullen - to most, he's a boring book editor but he's really an elusive romance novelist with an erotic flair. When he's not writing porn, I mean romance, he's just a guy who's married to his high school sweetheart and father of three teens. Rated: M
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