Urso
Fuck it. I called her.
I've never been one to do this kind of thing, never invited any woman out, never needed to use sweet words, flowers, or that nonsense. Whoever wanted to, came. Whoever didn't, missed out. But with Nicole, it's different.
She's not a woman you call for a quick hit, to put on the back of the bike, take to the shack, and f**k on impulse. She's a woman of respect. And worse: she's a woman who destabilizes me.
That's why I didn't ask. I gave an order.
Eight o'clock. Be ready.
I rode off with the motorcycle roaring, left her standing in the garage, full of doubt, and rode away smiling inside. Because I saw it. I saw the reaction in her eyes. I saw the confusion in her mind. I saw her whole body trying to decide whether to follow logic or desire.
I like this.
I
