The Biker's Fate Chapter 691

Waverly

SATURDAY AFTERNOON, I was aflutter with both excitement and nerves as I got ready for Gio to arrive. I had offered to pick him up, but he'd said he had a meeting at the club, so someone would drop him by after. The plan would be for me to take him home on Sunday.

This gave me hours to prep for dinner, shave every part of my body, and think.

And a thinking Waverly was a melting down Waverly.

By the time my doorbell rang, I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. I pulled open the door and Gio frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lied. "Come in."

"Cash brought me. You okay with him coming in with a few things?" he asked. "He took off his cut."

"Oh, sure." I stepped aside, and Gio walked in (having now graduated to crutches) followed by a man a little taller and lankier than him carrying a duffle and a couple of grocery bags.

"Hey, I'm Cash," he said, smiling as he set the duffle on the floor.

"Nice to meet you," I said. "I'm Waverly."

"Where can I set these?" He held up the grocery bags.

"Kitchen," I said, pointing toward the island. "Thanks."

"I'll get out of your hair," Cash said. "Nice to meet you, Waverly."

"You too," I said, and Cash left us.

I locked up behind him and Gio held out his hand. "What's goin' on, Fizzy?"

I sighed. "I'm fine."

"Not what I asked."

I bit my lip. "I've just been a little bit… um… frazzled."

"Why?"

"Because I want tonight to be perfect."

"Baby, come here," he pressed. I went there, and he wrapped an arm around me, setting one of his crutches against the wall. "Why do you want tonight to be perfect?"

"Why wouldn't I want tonight to be perfect?" I challenged.

"Sweetness, you're puttin' too much pressure on yourself."

"I am?"

"Yeah. Let's just cook and then see where the night leads. If it just ends with us makin' out, then that's good, right?"

"But I shaved… um… things."

"Things?"

"Everything," I rasped.

He raised an eyebrow. "Shit, everything?"

"Everything."

"Okay, we'll put a pin in that," he said. "But you need to take the pressure off. We've got time. If it's not tonight, we'll find another night."

"How are you so Zen about this?"

He leaned down and kissed me gently. "You're worth the wait."

"Okay, if I didn't love you before, I definitely love you now."

Gio chuckled. "You're easy."

I slid my hand around his waist. "Easy's my middle name."

He smirked, kissing me again. "What are we makin'?"

"Well, I figured we'd have a do over of the fried chicken. And I've already made that apple pie again. Sound good?"

"Yeah, baby, that sounds great."

"Are you going to be okay standing on your leg? I can set you up with a step stool. It'll give you a little more height than a regular chair."

"That'd probably be helpful."

I grinned, grabbing the step stool from the closet, and after he washed his hands, he parked himself in front of the kitchen island so he could help make the biscuit dough.

"How's that shoulder?" I asked after he'd been kneading for a few minutes.

"It's good."

I finished peeling the potatoes, then stepped over to him and cupped his chin. "You tell me if that changes, okay?"

He chuckled. "I will."

I leaned down and kissed him gently. "You better."

"If I didn't have dough all over my hands, I'd show you just how good my shoulder actually is."

I grinned and went back to the chicken.

Once everything was ready, I carried plates to the table, while Gio did his best to help.

"Not gonna lie, I don't typically eat down-home cookin'," Gio said after he'd obliterated his sixth piece of chicken. "But this was the best fried chicken I've ever had."

I smiled. "Down-home cooking?"

"Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, that sort of thing."

"What do you eat?"

He polished off the rest of his potatoes and shrugged. "Italian, or fast food."

"Wait, I need more information. You look like that and you eat Italian and fast food?"

"No, not typically. I eat a lot of veggies and chicken breast, unless my mom decides I'm 'too skinny,' then it's Italian. If I'm with my brothers and I don't have time or a place to cook, it's fast food. If I'm cooking for someone else, I'll experiment. But usually, I fall back to what I know."

"Okay, so do you not like down-home cooking or has there been no one around to cook it for you?" I pressed.

"I guess it's a little of both. I tried to make biscuits once, they ended up rock-hard. And I usually don't eat fried chicken unless the Colonel makes it. But, honestly, I'm mostly there for the slaw."

I sighed. "Yeah, that coleslaw is the best."

"Seriously." He licked his fingers. "But their chicken doesn't hold a candle to yours."

I grinned, taking our plates to the sink. "I'm glad I can expand your horizons."

He followed and once the dishes were in the dishwasher, I noticed him rolling his shoulder. I frowned. "Bothering you?"

"Little bit. But it's good."

"Take off your shirt and go sit on the sofa."

"I am not that kind of guy, madam."

I laughed. "Oh, believe me, you will be when I'm done with you."

He did as I ordered, and I heated up some massage oil before joining him. Good lord, he was beautiful.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Uh. Yes." I smiled. "I'm just trying to figure out the best way to get at you."

He chuckled, patting his thighs. "Climb on, beautiful."

I straddled his thighs, poured oil into my palm, and set the bottle on the side table next to the sofa before rubbing it into my palms. I then began to massage his shoulder and that's when things went south.

Fast.

"Jesus," he breathed out.

"Am I hurting you?"

He grimaced. "No, you're givin' me a raging hard-on."

"Can you think about baseball stats or something while I work this out?" I asked, digging my fingers into his shoulder.

Dropping his head back, he let out a groan that sounded rather X-rated.

"Gio," I warned.

"Just appreciating your work, baby."

"Hmm-mm," I mused, continuing to massage him.

I ran my hands down his arm, tracing his tattoos. Not only did he have the Dogs of Fire logo on his chest, but he was also fully sleeved on both his arms.

"Do all of these tattoos have special meaning, or did you just like them?"

He let out a quiet hiss. "They all have meaning."

He slid his good arm around my waist and buried his face in my neck.

I chuckled. "Honey, I have oil all over my hands."

He met my eyes. "Will it wash out?"

"Yes."

"Then put your hands wherever the fuck you wanna put 'em."

I slid them over his chest, leaning down to kiss him and that kiss turned heated.

Quickly.

"Baby," he panted out. "If you don't want me to fuck you, you need to climb off."

I licked the corner of his mouth. "I want you to fuck me."

"Grab me a condom." He nodded to his bag. "Side pocket."

After snagging a condom from his bag, I undressed, surprised by how comfortable I felt. I wasn't embarrassed or shy, I felt like I was with my best friend, and trusted him one hundred percent.

"Jesus, you're beautiful." Gio let out a growl. "Come here, baby."

I went there immediately, straddling him again and his hand slid between my legs.