For what I wasn’t sure but something told me to wait. In my lifetime, I’ve learned to listen to such things. I pulled a crumpled up pack of cigare...tes out of my vest pocket and lit one. I’d been riding for an hour or so and the first cigarette is always the best. It gives you that lightheaded buzz. I’ve done all kinds of shit in my life but had left most of them behind. Cigarettes and beer were about my only vices of that nature left. Finishing my smoke, I stood up to grind the butt out on the. I felt his hand slide under mine palm up. He gripped his fingers around the base of my wrist. We were so close; I wondered why he wouldn’t just kiss me already. Was he waiting for me? Our foreheads connected, I pushed towards him. He exhaled, our faces still touching, our lips barely. His breath smelled like cinnamon and coffee. I took it in and just as I was savoring how close we were, I felt a shock run through me, all the way from my toes through my lips. He had finally obliterated the. ’ The guard seemed about to argue but thought better of it. ‘My apologies, ma’am. He seemed suspicious and wasn’t dressed like your other guests.’ Her eyes snapped to Michael, still angry as she dropped his arm. ‘He has a point. You look like a fucking noir detective dressed like that.’ Then she turned back to her table without saying another word. Fickle as a fae. Michael just shrugged as the guard looked at him. ‘Dames.’ The guard managed to tighten his face enough to not smile and motioned. ‘Rock me like a hurricane!’ *************************************************** (Time now for something different, This story is the first of a new series that has has nothing to do with Trangender, bisexual,chubby chasing, Larry/Lori, Ready Jane at Wild Crescent) He was a man of few words. Most of the time his bass guitar and body language did all his talking for him. Right now his chosen instrument was still sitting on it’s stand but the glazed over deer in the headlights look in his eyes.
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