Filed to story: Cora and Gunner MC Story Book PDF Free
The helmet was difficult and frustrating. My hands were shaking, my fingers couldn’t get a hold of the strap, and in the end, I had to ask for help.
I hated asking anyone for help.
Learned to be independent many years ago, but since meeting Gunner, I have had to humble myself several times and ask for help more times than I had in years. I was glad to be wearing my sunglasses so he couldn’t see my eyes; they would have revealed how much I was scared to climb on that bike. I had seen enough accident results to know they have little protection from harm.
I climbed onto the back with his help, and my legs spread wider than I expected, like my groin was almost on his back.
Gunner pulled me closer to him, my groin now on his bottom, the sudden rub on that area, had my lady parts remind me it wants attention, he pulled my hands gently again, causing me to wrap my arms around him, and I didn’t mind holding him this close; his scent, I had missed these last few days, more than I wanted to admit, and I doubt this feeling of closeness was meant to be making me wet and randy.
The bike started up, and the vibration hit my core, giving me instant pleasure, causing my panties to moisten again. This vibration was better than sitting on the washing machine on full spin. Yum. Oh my, that was unexpected. I thought as the bike started to move
At first, I held on so tight that my fingers hurt, and I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch my impending doom.
After a while, the smooth movement of the ride, and no sudden braking, I relaxed enough to open my eyes, and watched the cars as Gunner weaved us around them, his confidence and judgement showed years of experience, even at the lights, he didn’t burst forward, but cautiously took off, his head swivelling left and right, alert for danger.
These little things had me relaxing more on the back.
This wasn’t so bad. I liked being able to snuggle up behind him. I needed to find some gloves because my hands were cold, and I didn’t think to put some on, but otherwise the ride was better than I had hoped. We pulled up at the back of some shops. As I was new to town, I had no clue where we were. I got lost ages ago and was enjoying seeing the sights, sounds and smells. You get to see, hear and smell more on the bike, and this place had a delicious smell coming from through the back door.
“Where are we?” I asked, looking around the area, it was not a public car park.
“That’s the back of Michellie’s Italian Restaurant, hope you like Italian.” Gunner nodded at a door, which was a screen door, and the aroma had my mouth watering already.
“Yes, I do,” I replied, remembering af elderly lady l used to visit before she passed away, who taught me to Book Italian food. They had a lot of dishes that were good for large gatherings, when you had to take a plate.
Gunner offered me his arm, which I took hold of as I clumsily got off the bike; my legs still felt like they were vibrating, and my feet felt unstable when I first got off. It surprised me, considering we hadn’t been riding that long. I waited as Gunner did his thing, and then he put his arm around my waist, walked beside me, but at the same time, guiding me to where he wanted to go.
The tinkle of a bell sounded as Gunner pushed open the door to a warm, cosy Restaurant. The smell of garlic-filled food hit me first, then the sounds of knives and forks clinking against plates. Laughter came from somewhere to the left; the place looked full, and I got the feeling that you would need to book weeks in advance, unless Gunner booked this a while ago, I doubt we would get a table.
A few people were in front of us, waiting for the hostess to tick them off her book and flag a waiter or waitress to escort them to their table. When our turn came, the hostess lifted her eyes to see who was next, and a genuine smile crossed her face for the first time, not the plastered one she was using for the other customers.
“Gunner.” Her eyes flicked to me and back to him, her face never changing, but I felt I was assessed in that brief look. What her assessment was, her face didn’t give it away.
“Mace.” He smiled at her fondly. Should I be jealous? No, she’s too old for him, isn’t she? Like she had to be in her late thirties, early forties whereas I think Gunner is still in his twenties. Guess I don’t know a lot about Gunner. Dating him might be a good idea; he could be much older than he looks. Would he be only twenty-three. The thought of age difference didn’t worry me as much as I cradle-snatching then?,” thought it might.
“Marco, will be happy to see you. Let me guide you to your table.” Mace walked with us, leaving waiting customers at the door. This was special treatment, I thought, as we moved through a door and entered a private room section, away from the public eye.
“Can you tell him I want the chef combo?” Gunner requested, as he pulled out a chair for me to sit in. Her eyes flicked to me again, more curious this time, before turning back to Gunner.
“Sure, don’t be surprised if he comes out to see you; it’s been a while.” With that, she left, closing the door behind her.
Gunner walked over to the window and opened the blinds, letting in the light. At the same time, it revealed the beautiful view. The restaurant faced a small river; boats and skiers were on the water; a ferry took passengers to the other side and back. I want to get on the ferry one day and see where it takes me. Gunner sat opposite me, taking my hand in his, looking me in the eye, as if checking I was okay.
“The club owns this place, hence this room is always available, unless someone from the club is using it, but then there’s room to share.” That answered one question.
“I love the view.” He looked to his left, looking at the view and back at me.
“That’s why I opened the blinds, no one can see in, the window has tinting, even at night, you can’t see in.” I nodded, unsure what he was trying to convey. Did he want to hide me?
The door burst open, hitting the wall with a loud bang as a man in a white shirt, an apron around his waist, a cloth over his left shoulder, covered in flour, stormed into the room.
“About fuking time, you came, been too long, I was beginning to think you forgot us.” The man, obviously a chef and possibly Marco, came rushing over and pulled Gunter from his seat with a strength a man his size shouldn’t have. Gunner towered over this man; even I, at five feet eight, was taller than this man, just.
“Marco,” Gunner replied with genuine affection and lifted him off the floor. Marco’s feet dangled in the air as they held each other, Marco speaking to Gunner in Italian. What they didn’t know was that I spoke a few languages, some I learned from growing up in a multicultural school, others from taking lessons, as l wanted to be able to speak to the patients in their language, so there was no confusion when being treated.
“Marco, this is Cora.” Gunner was introduced once he put the man down. Marco rushed over to me, grabbed my face, and kissed either cheek.
“Mamma Mia, what a Bella woman, you have found Gunner, too good for the likes of you. Cora, bambina, I have some strong sons, just your age. How about I introduce you to them, so you can compare what real men are like?” He looked serious, which made me feel good inside.
“Thank you, Marco, but Gunner is more than I can handle at the moment. No need for more. Yet.” I giggled at Gunner’s expression, at first puffing up, and then deflating as I added ‘yet.
“You know where to find me when you ditch this guy, and a table will always be open for you.”
“Thank you.” I smiled back as he let me go at last.
“Scusie, got to get back to my kitchen, food will be out shortly, I will make something special for you, Cora.” Then he was gone as fast as he came in, closing the door behind him, gently this time.
“Wow, that was…” I didn’t have words for it.
