Rating/Warnings: R for language & innuendo, otherwise pretty PG
Genre: Romance
Status & Word Count: Complete at 4,743 words
Summary: Evan's the bad boy biker, and Jen's the cute, innocent bank teller. But Jen's ready to show Evan that there's more to her than that.
Author's Note: Figured I'd finish this before I got in too deep with "freaks"
Good Girls and Bad Bikers
"Hey, Teach!"
Jennifer Hollis was crossing the street from the bank where she worked over to the café when she heard the familiar deep voice. The nickname was one she hated, but she knew who was calling and she knew it was directed at her. When she looked up ahead to where the voice had come from, she saw Evan Jones sitting on his motorcycle on the other end of the crosswalk. The bike was parked facing the street, idling as Evan leaned on the handlebars.
She loved the line of his body and the way he stretched out on the bike as though he were posing for a magazine spread. He was a bear of a man, six foot two inches tall and sturdily built with tattoos covering both arms. Today he wore blue jeans tucked into his biker boots and a black t-shirt that fit snug over his chest – a casual outfit that made him look much better than any man in a suit Jen had ever seen.
"You know, Evan," Jen said upon approaching him, "I've told you a hundred times that I'm not a teacher. I don't know why you still insist on calling me by that nickname." She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, feeling self-conscious about the way she was dressed. Because it was warm today, she'd opted for a skirt instead of her usual khakis, and she felt a bit exposed.
Evan appeared to notice how exposed she was as well, his eyes traveling the length of her body. He seemed to like what he saw, judging by the grin on his face when his blue eyes finally met hers. He ran a hand over his close-shaved brown hair as he eyed her. "So what's my Goody Two-Shoes up to today?" he asked her, tilting his head questioningly.
She didn't like particularly that nickname, either, but she knew that it was his way of teasing her. He was a tattooed, bad-boy biker, and she was a sweet and innocent good girl – at least that was how he saw them. Jen wasn't entirely sure what had led Evan to believe that she was so innocent and well-behaved, but she knew that she presented a fairly clean image to those who didn't know her as well as her family and her few friends did.
But if Evan knew what was going on inside her head every time she saw him on that bike, he might realize that she wasn't the good girl he thought her to be.
"I'm just going to grab lunch at the café," she told him. She wanted to invite him to join her, but she was too nervous to do that. What if he said no? The thought of being rejected by him was too much for her to handle; she'd rather they kept up this mild flirtation and never go further than to risk finding out that he was not serious with his intentions toward her.
With the bike still parked, Evan revved the engine a couple times, watching her. "What's the matter, sweetie? Don't you want me to take you for a ride?" The grin he flashed at her suggested that there might have been an alternate interpretation he was going for.
Flustered, she found that she couldn't speak. Did he know how badly she wanted to say yes and climb on the back of the motorcycle, wrapping her arms around him before they drove off into the sunset? She wanted to say yes to the implied part, too, and find out just how good he was with those hands, with his mouth... with everything. But she could not form the words.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," he said in that gravelly voice. He kicked the bike into gear and, winking at her, said, "Well, I bet a good little girl like you couldn't handle it anyway." Then he pulled out into traffic and roared off down the street.
Jen watched him go, feeling a sense of regret at the missed opportunity. Why couldn't she just have said something and gone with him? She wanted to show him that she was more than just a good little girl. She wanted Evan to see who she really was, and she knew she'd need more courage next time.
*
These days, being nice to people and refusing to use the f-word every couple sentences apparently meant you were a "good" person. Sometimes Jen felt as though she was being patronized for the way she acted – for blushing when somebody paid her a compliment, for saying "oh dear" instead of "dammit," for preferring to read a book instead of going to a bar.
On the other hand, she knew that there were parts of her inner life that weren't so innocent. She was lazy with chores, only doing them when she absolutely had to. There were times when her temper would get the best of her – especially dealing with rude customers at the bank. Her brothers knew what she could get like when she was in a bad mood, and it had been a joke around their house growing up that Jen turned into "Mrs. Hyde" when she was angry.
Now, though, when it came to Evan, Jen found that her mind frequently went into the gutter, as she could barely control the lust she felt for the man. She wanted him to see that there was another part of her that was on the same page he was. She wanted him to know that she got his dirty jokes and double entendres and that she liked them. She wanted to tell him about the dirty thoughts she had about what they could do together. Most of all, she wanted to show him with body language how she truly felt.
All she had to do was talk her good girl side into believing this was a good idea.
*
The next few passed uneventfully and with no sighting of Evan, much to her disappointment. She'd had to spend her weekend at home doing laundry even though what she really wanted to was drive into town and walk around in hopes of spotting Evan. The only reason she managed to keep herself at home was the fact that she'd run out of clean clothes for work.
When she went back to work on Monday, her entire morning consisted of her trying to concentrate on work and customers when all she wanted to do was stand out front and wait for Evan to drive by. She managed to hold herself together until lunch time, though.
Rather than eating at the café for lunch, Jen had planned to sit out front of the bank on the bench and enjoy the sun with the lunch she'd packed for herself.
The main road in front of the bank was usually fairly slow this time of day, and with the nice weather, there were more people walking around – joggers, people walking their dogs, pushing strollers and just enjoying what the day had to offer. She was surprised at how many people weren't at work.
Jen had finished her sandwich and was eating one of her chocolate chip cookies when she heard the familiar sound of a motorcycle engine coming up the street. Her heart stopped when she recognized Evan, even with his helmet covering up his head; she would know that body and that bike anywhere. For a moment, she thought he was going to drive right on by, but then he pulled his bike into the little path to the left of the benches and parked it.
Evan climbed off the bike, removing his helmet and hanging it over the handlebars. For a moment, she was struck by the way he looked, tall and strong and powerful, even dressed as casually as he was today – black jeans this time, and a gray t-shirt. He was almost like a model or an actor in a motorcycle advertisement, every beautiful inch of him too perfect to be real.
Jen's heartbeat sped up as she realized that Evan was walking toward her. She did a quick check of her clothes, trying to act casual as she made sure she looked all right. She wondered if maybe it would have been better if she'd been wearing the skirt again; she remembered the way he'd looked at her legs and wished she could make him look at her that way again. She liked him admiring her that way; it made her feel a little bit naughty.
"Hey, it's Little Miss Librarian!" he called out as he approached. "What's going on with my fair lady today?" Rather than sit down on the bench, he stood in front of it, putting one leg up and leaning on his leg to look down at her. "Ooh, cookies!" He was smiling again, and she wondered if he ever got upset about anything; he seemed to wear the cheeky grin like it was an accessory. On him, maybe it was.
"Would you like one?" she asked, holding out the little plastic baggie for him. She decided not to correct him on the 'librarian' remark, since she knew that he was aware she didn't work in a library, either. The nickname was just yet another way of him commenting on her squeaky-clean image.
"Did you bake these yourself?" he asked, helping himself to one. He winked. "I bet you look so cute in your kitchen with your cute little apron, baking cookies." The look on his face suggested that he was thinking something dirty, but Jen could not imagine what could be sexy about baking cookies.
She rolled her eyes. "I can't bake to save my life," she told him. "My brother made these for me." Her younger brother, Hank, was quite talented in the kitchen – a skill he'd picked up from their mother. The only skill Jen had gotten from her mother was her talent with numbers, something that made her an expert at her job but was otherwise fairly useless.
The look that Evan gave her was hard to interpret, and she wondered if perhaps he would liked her better if she did know how to bake. Maybe those were the kinds of girls that Evan liked – women that baked and wore aprons and liked cleaning.
"You know, contrary to what you might think," she began, feeling her pulse quicken, "I'm not this Stepford housewife. I hate cleaning, I can't cook anything more complicated than pasta, and I am not a sweet innocent motherly type," she pointed out. "You should hear the names I call my dog when he wakes me up in the middle of the night."
Evan raised his eyebrows. "You have a dog? Funny, I would've seen you as a cat lady."
"That's exactly what I'm saying, though!" she said, feeling her heart beat faster again, though this was less out of attraction and more with the slight thrill that she got from speaking her mind. "You already have this preconceived notion of who I am based on what you know about me, but the truth is that you really don't know me that much at all." But I want you to know me, she thought. She couldn't bring herself to say that out loud, already feeling like she'd said too much.
He took his foot off the bench and stood up straight, for a minute acting as though he didn't know what to do. He hooked his fingers into the belt loop of his pants as he looked at her. "I was just teasing," he said. "But you know, you haven't given me a chance to get to know you yet."
She took a breath, trying to gather her thoughts. She didn't want to get angry with him because she wasn't angry. "I just wish you would call me my name and stop acting like I'm as pure as the driven snow just because I'm not –" and here she didn't know what to say. "I have to get back to work now."
Confrontation was not her strong suit, and she hadn't wanted to turn this into some kind of angry argument. She stood up from the bench and brushed off her pants before she picked up the remains of her lunch, prepared to head back inside and calm down.
"Hey," he said in a low voice, "Jen."
And it was the first time she'd heard him say her name – her actual name and not just a stupid nickname that he'd thought up – so Jen found herself turning around to face him.
She was surprised to see that the grin had left his face; he was serious about this. Maybe she'd been wrong about him. Maybe they had both been wrong about each other.
"Jen," he said again. "I know there's more to you than just what you show me," he told her. His voice was quiet, his eyes fixed on hers. "And I want nothing more to know every part of you." He stepped forward – not close enough to touch, but close enough that Jen could see in his eyes the sincerity.
Her chest ached. "I have to go back to work," she said again, voice strained. There was a part of her that wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon in his company, getting to know him inside and out, showing him the parts of her he'd never seen.
But she couldn't bring herself to do that, and instead just walked back inside the building, holding her crumpled lunch bag in her hand. She tried to ignore the heaviness in her chest as she left him standing there. As she got back to work, she knew she'd made the wrong choice but didn't know how to fix it.
*
Jen spent the rest of her day at work mulling over the conversation with Evan and wondering what she could do to make things right between them. It had been stupid of her to walk away just when they had seemed to be getting somewhere. She wanted to apologize for that and let him know that she wanted nothing more than to get to know him – intimately.
Having made her decision, Jen knew that she couldn't wait much longer to talk to Evan or she'd lose her fortitude. The only problem was that she didn't know where to find him. She could wait outside the bank when her shift was over in hopes that he would drive by on his bike, but the chances of that were slim, especially since he'd already been in town today.
Instead, she sat in her car in the parking lot of the bank, watching the rest of her coworkers drive away. She waited until most of the cars had left before she took out her phone and called her brother.
"No, I am not lending you any money, Jen, so don't even ask," said Vinny when he answered the phone. At thirty-two, Vinny was the oldest of the four Hollis siblings; he was also the richest and used to his younger siblings asking him for loans. Jen, however, had only borrowed money from him once.
"You're hilarious," Jen replied, rolling her eyes even though he couldn't see her. "Maybe I actually called because I wanted to talk to my favorite brother. Did you ever think of that?"
Vinny chuckled. "Right, of course. What did you want?"
"Do you still have Evan Jones's number lying around?" she asked, doing her best to sound casual.
It was Vinny's fault she'd met Evan in the first place; Evan and his crew had been building a deck for Vinny one summer a couple years ago. Jen had come over to use the backyard pool while they were working. So the very first time Evan had seen her, she'd been sticky and sweaty and wearing a stupid one-piece bathing suit that looked like it was designed for someone her mother's age. That had been embarrassing, now that she remembered it.
"Yeah, I think so. Why?" her brother answered, drawing Jen's attention back to the task at hand.
"I just – have something I need to talk to him about," she said, deliberately remaining vague. She really didn't want to discuss this with her brother, no matter how close she might have been to him.
Vinny chuckled. "Oh Jen, I hope you know what you're getting into. Evan's a bit – intense, don't you think?" There was that protective big brother voice, making Jen roll her eyes.
"I know what I'm getting into," she said. "Can we do this without the judging, please?" she asked him. "All I want is his phone number."
There was a sigh from the other end of the line. "Okay," he said calmly. "I'll keep my mouth shut. You got a piece of paper handy?"
After she'd gotten the number from Vinny, they hung up and she took a deep breath in preparation for calling Evan. She tried not to think too much about it, knowing it would just make her nervous if she did.
Finally, she dialed his number, holding the phone up to her ear as it rang.
Evan answered the phone with a polite, "Hello?" and for a moment Jen wondered if she had called the wrong number, until he said, "Evan Jones, Jericho Contracting and Construction. How can I help you today?" He sounded so professional, so different than she was used to from him.
Cautiously, and perhaps a bit nervously, she said, "Evan? Hi, it's Jen." Then she added, "Jen Hollis," just in case maybe he knew a lot of Jens and didn't recognize her voice. She held her breath as she waited for his reply, her heart beating quickly.
"Jen, hi!" he said pleasantly. "Did you want to hire me for something? Did you need a new roof, maybe? I could build you a nice back deck if you wanted."
She wasn't sure if he was serious or not, so she just answered with, "No thank you, but I'll be sure to keep you in mind if I need those things," she said. "I was calling to apologize about earlier," she began, trying to find the right words.
"Oh, no, look, the fault is mine. I shouldn't have been so pushy with you," Evan said, before Jen could get a chance to speak up. "And I didn't mean to hurt your feelings with that comment about the cookies." He exhaled. "I do want to get to know more of you, but only when you're ready for that."
She swallowed nervously. "I do – I want to spend more time together," she said. "I like you and I'm sorry that I left like that." She couldn't think of an excuse to give him because she really didn't have a good reason for walking away, except to say that she had been scared.
For a moment, there was silence from both ends, and then, "does it bother you when I call you those nicknames or when I tease you about being a good girl?" he asked. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I'll stop if you want me to."
"No!" Jen said, almost too quickly. "You don't have to stop. I like the nicknames, and I'm proud that you think I'm a good person," she added, feeling herself blush as she said so. "I just want you to know that's not all that I am. I'm not perfect, and I'm not always night. And I'm terrible at chores," she added, embarrassed to admit it.
Evan laughed. "Oh, don't worry, Jen. Nobody's perfect, and I wouldn't expect you to be," he said. "I like seeing the nice part of you. I'm not trying to make fun of you or anything. But I do want to give you a ride on my motorcycle. It will be a lot of fun," he added. She couldn't tell if his tone was serious or not, but she ached to say yes. "Of course, I understand if it's not your thing. Not everyone can handle something that powerful between their legs," he said breezily. "It can be a real handful sometimes."
This time Jen was really blushing at such a blatant innuendo. Was he flirting with her? Her entire body went hot at the thought, and for a moment, she could not bring herself to say anything. Then, by some push, she found her voice. "You might be surprised at what I can handle," she said boldly. She was a bit shocked at what had come out of her mouth, but she was also pleased with herself for being able to come up with such a witty response, especially when she heard Evan laugh again.
"Oh, really?" he said, sounding amused. "Well, Miss Hollis, I will consider that challenge accepted. I will have to take you up on that soon."
*
On Friday, Jen was the last one to leave work, so she walked out back to the parking lot alone.
What she saw parked next to her car almost made her drop her keys. There was Evan, leaning with one hand on the back of his motorcycle, holding a helmet in his other hand. There was a second helmet hanging off the handles of the idling bike.
Evan smiled at her. "Well, pretty lady, what do you say? You want to go for a ride?"
Her heart was racing and thoughts were swirling in her head, but her mouth was way ahead of her brain. "Oh I would love to!" she said, and then clasped her hand over her mouth. She didn't want to sound overeager about it but she was just too excited to contain herself.
Evan just laughed. "God, you are too cute sometimes, you know that?"
She didn't know what to say to that. "Let me just, um, put my stuff in my car," she said.
Jen felt a little awkward as Evan watched her, but she unlocked her car and put her purse underneath the front seat, hidden from view. After she made sure that everything was in her car, she shut and locked the door, stuffing her car keys and cell phone into her pocket. Then she turned back to Evan, chest heavy with anticipation of what was to come.
He smiled at her. "All set to go?" he asked. When she nodded, he handed her the helmet he'd be holding. "We have to protect that pretty head of yours," he said with a grin. "Don't want such a good citizen to break any laws, either." He watched her fit it over her head, stepping closer to help her with the strap when she struggled with it.
When she was all set, he took a step back to look at her. "All you need is a leather jacket and a couple tattoos and you'd look like a genuine biker," he said. "You ready?" he asked again, as though he thought she would change her mind.
"I'm ready," she told him, nodding. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but she was too excited to let it bother her too much.
"Now you're going to have to squeeze in close to me because my bike doesn't have a full-sized second seat," he told her. "I usually just ride by myself." He climbed into the bike and scooted forward, then put on his helmet.
For a moment, Jen just took in the sight of him there on the bike, the angle of his body as he leaned forward, the way his jeans fit tight on his legs - even his black motorcycle boots were a part of the look. She looked down at her white sneakers and khakis. He must have been joking when he said she could be a biker.
Evan tilted his head at her. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you coming?" he asked teasingly. She couldn't really see his expression through the helmet but she could just imagine him smirking at her in his usual way.
If she was going to change her mind, she'd have to do it now. Instead, she swung her leg over the bike and got on, scooting in close behind Evan so she could make herself comfortable on the leather seat. Then she tucked her arms around him. It felt strange for a moment, but then he kicked the bike into gear and she didn't have time to worry about the awkwardness of touching him, because they were off.
It was strange at first, being on the bike. It felt nothing like a car, with the rumble of the engine, the wind whipping around them, the feel of Evan's broad, muscular back against her front. She wanted to look at everything at once, but couldn't. Jen felt the thrill of adventure fill her up and she knew she would not be satisfied with this one motorcycle ride. No, she'd want this again and again.
They rode down busy main roads and then winding back roads. Jen held tight to Evan and allowed herself to enjoy the rush that came with it.
But it was over too soon, and they returned back to the parking lot of the bank as the sun was setting. Evan parked the bike next to her car and turned it off.
Reluctantly, Jen climbed off, removing the helmet to hand it back to Evan. "Thanks for the ride," she told him. "That was really nice." We'll have to do it again sometime. But she didn't want to be greedy, so she didn't say it out loud. Instead, she watched as Evan took off his own helmet and got off the bike to stand up next to her.
He was close enough to touch, but Jen kept her hands by her side, nervous.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, and then he reached for her, taking her hand in his own as he closed the distance between them. "You think you'll want to give it another go?"
She nodded, suddenly finding her eyes fixed on his mouth. She really wanted to know what it felt like to kiss him, and by the way he was looking at her, maybe he was thinking the same thing. Well, there was only one way to find out.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Jen took her free hand and put it on Evan's cheek and then pressed closer to him, tilting her face up toward his.
And Evan responded quickly, placing his hand on her waist as he closed the distance between them, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips – soft and sweet and romantic. When he tried to pull back, Jen just pulled him closer, coaxing his mouth open and deepening the kiss between them.
She could feel his heart beat in time with hers; she felt his fingers digging into her sides, his leg nudging between hers and his other hand still clutching hers tightly.
This was what it all had been leading up to – every word he'd said to her, every interaction they'd had, every teasing comment, every glance – it was all for this moment, for the two of them here in the parking lot as the sun went down.
When the kiss ended, Evan still didn't release her hand. He watched her for a moment before speaking. "That was worth the wait," he told her with a small smile. "Jen Hollis, do you even realize how fucking perfect you are?"
She blushed and licked her lips nervously. "I should probably go home," she said.
Evan nodded and released her hand. "That's cool. But, ah, you won't mind if I come by to see you this weekend, will you?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched her.
"I'd like that," she replied, feeling a silly grin on her face. "Thank you, Evan."
She dug her cars keys out of her pocket.
"Have a good night, beautiful," Evan said. "Can't wait to see you again."
She was still grinning as she got in her car and drove away. She couldn't wait to see him again, either, and perhaps get to work on her other fantasies that she had in mind for the two of them.
The End
Author's Note: I'm terrible at endings, and I feel bad for all that innuendo but then skimping on the porn, but I suck at straight porn. Maybe when I get better, I'll write a sidebar of them gettin' it on, lol.
Genre: Romance
Status & Word Count: Complete at 4,743 words
Summary: Evan's the bad boy biker, and Jen's the cute, innocent bank teller. But Jen's ready to show Evan that there's more to her than that.
Author's Note: Figured I'd finish this before I got in too deep with "freaks"
"Hey, Teach!"
Jennifer Hollis was crossing the street from the bank where she worked over to the café when she heard the familiar deep voice. The nickname was one she hated, but she knew who was calling and she knew it was directed at her. When she looked up ahead to where the voice had come from, she saw Evan Jones sitting on his motorcycle on the other end of the crosswalk. The bike was parked facing the street, idling as Evan leaned on the handlebars.
She loved the line of his body and the way he stretched out on the bike as though he were posing for a magazine spread. He was a bear of a man, six foot two inches tall and sturdily built with tattoos covering both arms. Today he wore blue jeans tucked into his biker boots and a black t-shirt that fit snug over his chest – a casual outfit that made him look much better than any man in a suit Jen had ever seen.
"You know, Evan," Jen said upon approaching him, "I've told you a hundred times that I'm not a teacher. I don't know why you still insist on calling me by that nickname." She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, feeling self-conscious about the way she was dressed. Because it was warm today, she'd opted for a skirt instead of her usual khakis, and she felt a bit exposed.
Evan appeared to notice how exposed she was as well, his eyes traveling the length of her body. He seemed to like what he saw, judging by the grin on his face when his blue eyes finally met hers. He ran a hand over his close-shaved brown hair as he eyed her. "So what's my Goody Two-Shoes up to today?" he asked her, tilting his head questioningly.
She didn't like particularly that nickname, either, but she knew that it was his way of teasing her. He was a tattooed, bad-boy biker, and she was a sweet and innocent good girl – at least that was how he saw them. Jen wasn't entirely sure what had led Evan to believe that she was so innocent and well-behaved, but she knew that she presented a fairly clean image to those who didn't know her as well as her family and her few friends did.
But if Evan knew what was going on inside her head every time she saw him on that bike, he might realize that she wasn't the good girl he thought her to be.
"I'm just going to grab lunch at the café," she told him. She wanted to invite him to join her, but she was too nervous to do that. What if he said no? The thought of being rejected by him was too much for her to handle; she'd rather they kept up this mild flirtation and never go further than to risk finding out that he was not serious with his intentions toward her.
With the bike still parked, Evan revved the engine a couple times, watching her. "What's the matter, sweetie? Don't you want me to take you for a ride?" The grin he flashed at her suggested that there might have been an alternate interpretation he was going for.
Flustered, she found that she couldn't speak. Did he know how badly she wanted to say yes and climb on the back of the motorcycle, wrapping her arms around him before they drove off into the sunset? She wanted to say yes to the implied part, too, and find out just how good he was with those hands, with his mouth... with everything. But she could not form the words.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," he said in that gravelly voice. He kicked the bike into gear and, winking at her, said, "Well, I bet a good little girl like you couldn't handle it anyway." Then he pulled out into traffic and roared off down the street.
Jen watched him go, feeling a sense of regret at the missed opportunity. Why couldn't she just have said something and gone with him? She wanted to show him that she was more than just a good little girl. She wanted Evan to see who she really was, and she knew she'd need more courage next time.
These days, being nice to people and refusing to use the f-word every couple sentences apparently meant you were a "good" person. Sometimes Jen felt as though she was being patronized for the way she acted – for blushing when somebody paid her a compliment, for saying "oh dear" instead of "dammit," for preferring to read a book instead of going to a bar.
On the other hand, she knew that there were parts of her inner life that weren't so innocent. She was lazy with chores, only doing them when she absolutely had to. There were times when her temper would get the best of her – especially dealing with rude customers at the bank. Her brothers knew what she could get like when she was in a bad mood, and it had been a joke around their house growing up that Jen turned into "Mrs. Hyde" when she was angry.
Now, though, when it came to Evan, Jen found that her mind frequently went into the gutter, as she could barely control the lust she felt for the man. She wanted him to see that there was another part of her that was on the same page he was. She wanted him to know that she got his dirty jokes and double entendres and that she liked them. She wanted to tell him about the dirty thoughts she had about what they could do together. Most of all, she wanted to show him with body language how she truly felt.
All she had to do was talk her good girl side into believing this was a good idea.
The next few passed uneventfully and with no sighting of Evan, much to her disappointment. She'd had to spend her weekend at home doing laundry even though what she really wanted to was drive into town and walk around in hopes of spotting Evan. The only reason she managed to keep herself at home was the fact that she'd run out of clean clothes for work.
When she went back to work on Monday, her entire morning consisted of her trying to concentrate on work and customers when all she wanted to do was stand out front and wait for Evan to drive by. She managed to hold herself together until lunch time, though.
Rather than eating at the café for lunch, Jen had planned to sit out front of the bank on the bench and enjoy the sun with the lunch she'd packed for herself.
The main road in front of the bank was usually fairly slow this time of day, and with the nice weather, there were more people walking around – joggers, people walking their dogs, pushing strollers and just enjoying what the day had to offer. She was surprised at how many people weren't at work.
Jen had finished her sandwich and was eating one of her chocolate chip cookies when she heard the familiar sound of a motorcycle engine coming up the street. Her heart stopped when she recognized Evan, even with his helmet covering up his head; she would know that body and that bike anywhere. For a moment, she thought he was going to drive right on by, but then he pulled his bike into the little path to the left of the benches and parked it.
Evan climbed off the bike, removing his helmet and hanging it over the handlebars. For a moment, she was struck by the way he looked, tall and strong and powerful, even dressed as casually as he was today – black jeans this time, and a gray t-shirt. He was almost like a model or an actor in a motorcycle advertisement, every beautiful inch of him too perfect to be real.
Jen's heartbeat sped up as she realized that Evan was walking toward her. She did a quick check of her clothes, trying to act casual as she made sure she looked all right. She wondered if maybe it would have been better if she'd been wearing the skirt again; she remembered the way he'd looked at her legs and wished she could make him look at her that way again. She liked him admiring her that way; it made her feel a little bit naughty.
"Hey, it's Little Miss Librarian!" he called out as he approached. "What's going on with my fair lady today?" Rather than sit down on the bench, he stood in front of it, putting one leg up and leaning on his leg to look down at her. "Ooh, cookies!" He was smiling again, and she wondered if he ever got upset about anything; he seemed to wear the cheeky grin like it was an accessory. On him, maybe it was.
"Would you like one?" she asked, holding out the little plastic baggie for him. She decided not to correct him on the 'librarian' remark, since she knew that he was aware she didn't work in a library, either. The nickname was just yet another way of him commenting on her squeaky-clean image.
"Did you bake these yourself?" he asked, helping himself to one. He winked. "I bet you look so cute in your kitchen with your cute little apron, baking cookies." The look on his face suggested that he was thinking something dirty, but Jen could not imagine what could be sexy about baking cookies.
She rolled her eyes. "I can't bake to save my life," she told him. "My brother made these for me." Her younger brother, Hank, was quite talented in the kitchen – a skill he'd picked up from their mother. The only skill Jen had gotten from her mother was her talent with numbers, something that made her an expert at her job but was otherwise fairly useless.
The look that Evan gave her was hard to interpret, and she wondered if perhaps he would liked her better if she did know how to bake. Maybe those were the kinds of girls that Evan liked – women that baked and wore aprons and liked cleaning.
"You know, contrary to what you might think," she began, feeling her pulse quicken, "I'm not this Stepford housewife. I hate cleaning, I can't cook anything more complicated than pasta, and I am not a sweet innocent motherly type," she pointed out. "You should hear the names I call my dog when he wakes me up in the middle of the night."
Evan raised his eyebrows. "You have a dog? Funny, I would've seen you as a cat lady."
"That's exactly what I'm saying, though!" she said, feeling her heart beat faster again, though this was less out of attraction and more with the slight thrill that she got from speaking her mind. "You already have this preconceived notion of who I am based on what you know about me, but the truth is that you really don't know me that much at all." But I want you to know me, she thought. She couldn't bring herself to say that out loud, already feeling like she'd said too much.
He took his foot off the bench and stood up straight, for a minute acting as though he didn't know what to do. He hooked his fingers into the belt loop of his pants as he looked at her. "I was just teasing," he said. "But you know, you haven't given me a chance to get to know you yet."
She took a breath, trying to gather her thoughts. She didn't want to get angry with him because she wasn't angry. "I just wish you would call me my name and stop acting like I'm as pure as the driven snow just because I'm not –" and here she didn't know what to say. "I have to get back to work now."
Confrontation was not her strong suit, and she hadn't wanted to turn this into some kind of angry argument. She stood up from the bench and brushed off her pants before she picked up the remains of her lunch, prepared to head back inside and calm down.
"Hey," he said in a low voice, "Jen."
And it was the first time she'd heard him say her name – her actual name and not just a stupid nickname that he'd thought up – so Jen found herself turning around to face him.
She was surprised to see that the grin had left his face; he was serious about this. Maybe she'd been wrong about him. Maybe they had both been wrong about each other.
"Jen," he said again. "I know there's more to you than just what you show me," he told her. His voice was quiet, his eyes fixed on hers. "And I want nothing more to know every part of you." He stepped forward – not close enough to touch, but close enough that Jen could see in his eyes the sincerity.
Her chest ached. "I have to go back to work," she said again, voice strained. There was a part of her that wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon in his company, getting to know him inside and out, showing him the parts of her he'd never seen.
But she couldn't bring herself to do that, and instead just walked back inside the building, holding her crumpled lunch bag in her hand. She tried to ignore the heaviness in her chest as she left him standing there. As she got back to work, she knew she'd made the wrong choice but didn't know how to fix it.
Jen spent the rest of her day at work mulling over the conversation with Evan and wondering what she could do to make things right between them. It had been stupid of her to walk away just when they had seemed to be getting somewhere. She wanted to apologize for that and let him know that she wanted nothing more than to get to know him – intimately.
Having made her decision, Jen knew that she couldn't wait much longer to talk to Evan or she'd lose her fortitude. The only problem was that she didn't know where to find him. She could wait outside the bank when her shift was over in hopes that he would drive by on his bike, but the chances of that were slim, especially since he'd already been in town today.
Instead, she sat in her car in the parking lot of the bank, watching the rest of her coworkers drive away. She waited until most of the cars had left before she took out her phone and called her brother.
"No, I am not lending you any money, Jen, so don't even ask," said Vinny when he answered the phone. At thirty-two, Vinny was the oldest of the four Hollis siblings; he was also the richest and used to his younger siblings asking him for loans. Jen, however, had only borrowed money from him once.
"You're hilarious," Jen replied, rolling her eyes even though he couldn't see her. "Maybe I actually called because I wanted to talk to my favorite brother. Did you ever think of that?"
Vinny chuckled. "Right, of course. What did you want?"
"Do you still have Evan Jones's number lying around?" she asked, doing her best to sound casual.
It was Vinny's fault she'd met Evan in the first place; Evan and his crew had been building a deck for Vinny one summer a couple years ago. Jen had come over to use the backyard pool while they were working. So the very first time Evan had seen her, she'd been sticky and sweaty and wearing a stupid one-piece bathing suit that looked like it was designed for someone her mother's age. That had been embarrassing, now that she remembered it.
"Yeah, I think so. Why?" her brother answered, drawing Jen's attention back to the task at hand.
"I just – have something I need to talk to him about," she said, deliberately remaining vague. She really didn't want to discuss this with her brother, no matter how close she might have been to him.
Vinny chuckled. "Oh Jen, I hope you know what you're getting into. Evan's a bit – intense, don't you think?" There was that protective big brother voice, making Jen roll her eyes.
"I know what I'm getting into," she said. "Can we do this without the judging, please?" she asked him. "All I want is his phone number."
There was a sigh from the other end of the line. "Okay," he said calmly. "I'll keep my mouth shut. You got a piece of paper handy?"
After she'd gotten the number from Vinny, they hung up and she took a deep breath in preparation for calling Evan. She tried not to think too much about it, knowing it would just make her nervous if she did.
Finally, she dialed his number, holding the phone up to her ear as it rang.
Evan answered the phone with a polite, "Hello?" and for a moment Jen wondered if she had called the wrong number, until he said, "Evan Jones, Jericho Contracting and Construction. How can I help you today?" He sounded so professional, so different than she was used to from him.
Cautiously, and perhaps a bit nervously, she said, "Evan? Hi, it's Jen." Then she added, "Jen Hollis," just in case maybe he knew a lot of Jens and didn't recognize her voice. She held her breath as she waited for his reply, her heart beating quickly.
"Jen, hi!" he said pleasantly. "Did you want to hire me for something? Did you need a new roof, maybe? I could build you a nice back deck if you wanted."
She wasn't sure if he was serious or not, so she just answered with, "No thank you, but I'll be sure to keep you in mind if I need those things," she said. "I was calling to apologize about earlier," she began, trying to find the right words.
"Oh, no, look, the fault is mine. I shouldn't have been so pushy with you," Evan said, before Jen could get a chance to speak up. "And I didn't mean to hurt your feelings with that comment about the cookies." He exhaled. "I do want to get to know more of you, but only when you're ready for that."
She swallowed nervously. "I do – I want to spend more time together," she said. "I like you and I'm sorry that I left like that." She couldn't think of an excuse to give him because she really didn't have a good reason for walking away, except to say that she had been scared.
For a moment, there was silence from both ends, and then, "does it bother you when I call you those nicknames or when I tease you about being a good girl?" he asked. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I'll stop if you want me to."
"No!" Jen said, almost too quickly. "You don't have to stop. I like the nicknames, and I'm proud that you think I'm a good person," she added, feeling herself blush as she said so. "I just want you to know that's not all that I am. I'm not perfect, and I'm not always night. And I'm terrible at chores," she added, embarrassed to admit it.
Evan laughed. "Oh, don't worry, Jen. Nobody's perfect, and I wouldn't expect you to be," he said. "I like seeing the nice part of you. I'm not trying to make fun of you or anything. But I do want to give you a ride on my motorcycle. It will be a lot of fun," he added. She couldn't tell if his tone was serious or not, but she ached to say yes. "Of course, I understand if it's not your thing. Not everyone can handle something that powerful between their legs," he said breezily. "It can be a real handful sometimes."
This time Jen was really blushing at such a blatant innuendo. Was he flirting with her? Her entire body went hot at the thought, and for a moment, she could not bring herself to say anything. Then, by some push, she found her voice. "You might be surprised at what I can handle," she said boldly. She was a bit shocked at what had come out of her mouth, but she was also pleased with herself for being able to come up with such a witty response, especially when she heard Evan laugh again.
"Oh, really?" he said, sounding amused. "Well, Miss Hollis, I will consider that challenge accepted. I will have to take you up on that soon."
On Friday, Jen was the last one to leave work, so she walked out back to the parking lot alone.
What she saw parked next to her car almost made her drop her keys. There was Evan, leaning with one hand on the back of his motorcycle, holding a helmet in his other hand. There was a second helmet hanging off the handles of the idling bike.
Evan smiled at her. "Well, pretty lady, what do you say? You want to go for a ride?"
Her heart was racing and thoughts were swirling in her head, but her mouth was way ahead of her brain. "Oh I would love to!" she said, and then clasped her hand over her mouth. She didn't want to sound overeager about it but she was just too excited to contain herself.
Evan just laughed. "God, you are too cute sometimes, you know that?"
She didn't know what to say to that. "Let me just, um, put my stuff in my car," she said.
Jen felt a little awkward as Evan watched her, but she unlocked her car and put her purse underneath the front seat, hidden from view. After she made sure that everything was in her car, she shut and locked the door, stuffing her car keys and cell phone into her pocket. Then she turned back to Evan, chest heavy with anticipation of what was to come.
He smiled at her. "All set to go?" he asked. When she nodded, he handed her the helmet he'd be holding. "We have to protect that pretty head of yours," he said with a grin. "Don't want such a good citizen to break any laws, either." He watched her fit it over her head, stepping closer to help her with the strap when she struggled with it.
When she was all set, he took a step back to look at her. "All you need is a leather jacket and a couple tattoos and you'd look like a genuine biker," he said. "You ready?" he asked again, as though he thought she would change her mind.
"I'm ready," she told him, nodding. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but she was too excited to let it bother her too much.
"Now you're going to have to squeeze in close to me because my bike doesn't have a full-sized second seat," he told her. "I usually just ride by myself." He climbed into the bike and scooted forward, then put on his helmet.
For a moment, Jen just took in the sight of him there on the bike, the angle of his body as he leaned forward, the way his jeans fit tight on his legs - even his black motorcycle boots were a part of the look. She looked down at her white sneakers and khakis. He must have been joking when he said she could be a biker.
Evan tilted his head at her. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you coming?" he asked teasingly. She couldn't really see his expression through the helmet but she could just imagine him smirking at her in his usual way.
If she was going to change her mind, she'd have to do it now. Instead, she swung her leg over the bike and got on, scooting in close behind Evan so she could make herself comfortable on the leather seat. Then she tucked her arms around him. It felt strange for a moment, but then he kicked the bike into gear and she didn't have time to worry about the awkwardness of touching him, because they were off.
It was strange at first, being on the bike. It felt nothing like a car, with the rumble of the engine, the wind whipping around them, the feel of Evan's broad, muscular back against her front. She wanted to look at everything at once, but couldn't. Jen felt the thrill of adventure fill her up and she knew she would not be satisfied with this one motorcycle ride. No, she'd want this again and again.
They rode down busy main roads and then winding back roads. Jen held tight to Evan and allowed herself to enjoy the rush that came with it.
But it was over too soon, and they returned back to the parking lot of the bank as the sun was setting. Evan parked the bike next to her car and turned it off.
Reluctantly, Jen climbed off, removing the helmet to hand it back to Evan. "Thanks for the ride," she told him. "That was really nice." We'll have to do it again sometime. But she didn't want to be greedy, so she didn't say it out loud. Instead, she watched as Evan took off his own helmet and got off the bike to stand up next to her.
He was close enough to touch, but Jen kept her hands by her side, nervous.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, and then he reached for her, taking her hand in his own as he closed the distance between them. "You think you'll want to give it another go?"
She nodded, suddenly finding her eyes fixed on his mouth. She really wanted to know what it felt like to kiss him, and by the way he was looking at her, maybe he was thinking the same thing. Well, there was only one way to find out.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Jen took her free hand and put it on Evan's cheek and then pressed closer to him, tilting her face up toward his.
And Evan responded quickly, placing his hand on her waist as he closed the distance between them, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips – soft and sweet and romantic. When he tried to pull back, Jen just pulled him closer, coaxing his mouth open and deepening the kiss between them.
She could feel his heart beat in time with hers; she felt his fingers digging into her sides, his leg nudging between hers and his other hand still clutching hers tightly.
This was what it all had been leading up to – every word he'd said to her, every interaction they'd had, every teasing comment, every glance – it was all for this moment, for the two of them here in the parking lot as the sun went down.
When the kiss ended, Evan still didn't release her hand. He watched her for a moment before speaking. "That was worth the wait," he told her with a small smile. "Jen Hollis, do you even realize how fucking perfect you are?"
She blushed and licked her lips nervously. "I should probably go home," she said.
Evan nodded and released her hand. "That's cool. But, ah, you won't mind if I come by to see you this weekend, will you?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched her.
"I'd like that," she replied, feeling a silly grin on her face. "Thank you, Evan."
She dug her cars keys out of her pocket.
"Have a good night, beautiful," Evan said. "Can't wait to see you again."
She was still grinning as she got in her car and drove away. She couldn't wait to see him again, either, and perhaps get to work on her other fantasies that she had in mind for the two of them.
Author's Note: I'm terrible at endings, and I feel bad for all that innuendo but then skimping on the porn, but I suck at straight porn. Maybe when I get better, I'll write a sidebar of them gettin' it on, lol.
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