I don’t know why I agreed. I was so close to escaping, but deep down, I knew this was coming. He said something that made me realize he was right. I feel the same pull he feels too. I know it with every touch, every look. He’s right. I’ve never responded this way to anyone before, and giving in to that pull is something my body has been craving so much. The decision was made, and for once, I’m going to give in to temptation. I didn’t know tonight would be the night, but following the saying of just let go, I did just that. I let go.

So now I’m sitting on the back of his bike, his broad chest feeling amazing under my hands. I copped a little feel earlier when we went sharp around a corner, but after five minutes, I relaxed into him, my body automatically holding on to his ripped front, memorizing it before I see what is under his leather cut.

One date. I’ll give myself one date. One night of letting go and then tomorrow, I can analyze everything I’ve done. I’m delusional to think he will want anything more. Men like him live the hard lifestyle. Women come and go; they get their fill and move on to the next one. He even said himself one date, so whatever happens, I’m going to put it down to the undeniable tension that’s between us, and for once, act on it.

Nix slows his bike, turning the corner of a suburban street, easing into the drive of a modest two-story house. He pulls up alongside a black jacked-up Chevy. The porch light has been left on giving off a soft glow against the darkened night, making it feel warm and inviting. Shutting his bike down, Nix climbs off and leaves me sitting here wondering how the hell I’m going to get off.

“How was your first time on a bike?” He smirks, knowing I enjoyed it more than a lot.

“About as enjoyable as anyone feels being placed on the back of a bike for the first time, asshole.” He shakes his head laughing, and then reaches out to help me off.

“I like that I’m your first.” He pulls me to him. I ignore his comment, and the reaction I get from it, and step back, needing space.

“Where are we?” I look up at the house, unbuckling the chinstrap to remove the heavy black helmet. My hair gets caught as I lift it up. Nix comes forward, helping me untangle the mess.

“My place,” he explains, taking the helmet and placing it in the side bag of the bike.

“I thought we were going out for a date?” I correct him, cocking my eyebrow at his forwardness. I shouldn’t be surprised; the man has been nothing but forward.

“I didn’t say where we were goin’. I’m gonna feed you, seein’ that your date left before you ate, get to know you a little better, and then I’ll take you home whenever you want,” he informs me as we walk along the front path to his front porch.

He unlocks and opens the door and gestures me to walk through. I should say no, shouldn’t even walk through his door, but my vagina is making all the decisions.

Making my way through the front entry, I’m silently amazed at the tidiness of his home. The large open-plan living area greets us as we make our way into the room. A large kitchen to the left, opens up to the dining area, and then extends further out into the living area. Two long black leather couches look inviting, sitting in front of a huge flat screen hanging on the wall. Looking around the room, I eye all the fine details to get a glimpse of him in his element. Nix opens up a large, paneled glass door out to the backyard. Flicking the light to give me more of a view, I walk forward and look out to the decking, blown away by the size of it.

“Wow,” I breathe out, walking up to the doors. Nix walks out onto the decking and starts up the built in grill. I follow, heading to the railing that looks out to his large backyard. The in-ground pool sits to the left and a large expansive grassed area is to the right. The yard is lit up as the spotlights from the house shine over the pool area. It’s huge and amazing. I feel a slight pang of jealousy at his home, a real family home.

Turning back around, I follow his movements. Closing the outside fridge, two beers in his hand, he passes me one after popping the top.

“Thanks.” Taking a sip, I look around one more time. “Nice house.” I motion around me.

“Thanks,” he says, turning back to the grill. I take a seat, feeling a little out of my element in his house.

“So,” I begin, trying to fill the silence between us. If we aren’t fighting or being smartasses to each other, it seems we don’t have much to say.

“Just relax, Kadence. I’m not gonna rip your clothes off just yet.” And we’re back.

“Yeah, yeah, Casanova, keep it in your pants. You aren’t getting into mine.” I watch as he looks at me, before walking forward like a predator stalking his prey. He stops short of getting in my space, but his tall frame standing over me communicates his formidable power.

“Kadence, don’t lie. You and I both know that what’s in those pants is aching for my cock.” The ache was gone, but with one sentence, his deep gravelly voice has me building an itch I know he could scratch.

“You’re good, you know that?”

“Kadence, I’m more than good.” I roll my eyes at him. Seriously, the man has it bad for himself.

“Tell me honestly, does it work?” I ask, genuinely concerned. I'm hoping I’m not the only fool falling for his dirty words. ‘Cause then I really would need to talk to my vagina.

“I don’t know, Kadence. Are your panties wet?” he responds, and this time I laugh out loud. He seriously must have taken classes or something.

“Geez, Phoenix, cut the bullshit, would you? Your dirty mouth might make some girls wet between the legs, but it’s not the key to getting between mine. You need to work harder than that,” I lie, standing from my chair and taking one step into his space. The truth is his dirty words are wearing me down, and if he keeps talking about wet pussies, I’m going to pull my pants down and demand he show mine some attention.

What am I saying? Am I really considering having sex with this man? This crass, dirty, sexy man who pushes my buttons, who irritates me while at the same time manages to turn me on? Of course I am. Why else would I get on his bike? I’ve had one-night stands before, before my accident that is. Could I let him in, possibly exposing that side of me without explaining? A part of me knows if he sees it, sees the ugliness, he will be disgusted by it or at least want an explanation.

I don’t like to allow my past to define me, or let me shy away from people, but when ten percent of your body holds second-degree burns, it’s hard to let someone see it. Granting permission for anyone to see the ugliness underneath can also be deeply empowering. I have the ability to control a part of it, so it doesn’t restrict me. I’ve worked so hard to move past my insecurities of it all.

I made the decision a long time ago to own it and embrace the marks of my past, yet Nix’s presence has me faltering, second-guessing that I’m strong enough to move past it. If I’m being honest, my insecurities are coming from the strange and intense connection I have with this demanding pig-headed man. It’s like no other. His presence alone makes me feel less worthy, but at the same time, my strength keeps me holding on. I know I can’t walk away from it even if I tried. The truth in that statement is that I sit here about to have dinner with him, knowing we will only end up naked. I’ve come this far; I want this just as much as he does.

Gathering more courage, I continue to tease him, “How about if you can last all through dinner, without your filthy mouth talking about my pussy, I might give you a taste of it.” I wink and walk past him, hoping he doesn’t see through the fake bravado I’m feeling right now.

He follows me, coming up behind me, his heat at my back. “Game on, Kadence,” he breathes into my ear. His hot breath prickles my skin. I'm not sure if betting against the man is wise; I wouldn’t put it past him to play dirty.