4
Judge
I ride north out of the Cove. Emma’s arms are wrapped around me and her head is on my back, hugging into me. I was right, back in the car park. She wants this. Maybe she doesn’t know why, but she does. I’ve seen that look in a woman’s eye before. The look that screams out for a man. The look that screams out for a strong man to take control. And I’ve never had problem being that man.
But as she hugs into me, I wonder if there’s more. She didn’t submit instantly, as so many women have before her. She didn’t gush or smile like a minx or dance over to me and throw herself onto the back of my bike. There was resistance, sarcasm. She spoke in a biting tone. No, Emma has brains, and I’m not a toy to her. Do you know that, or just hope it?
I ignore the thought and speed us through the
