Filed to story: Cora and Gunner MC Story Book PDF Free
“Yes, Marco is a firecracker, full of energy, and loves everyone,” Gunner replied, amused, as he leaned forward and brushed my cheek.
“He left his mark on your face.”
“Huh?”
“Flour.” I touched my face where Gunner had just brushed and could still feel where he had touched.
Gunner POV
Cora was cute, and watching her see this place for the first time, it told me it was a good start to our date; her face didn’t hide anything of her awe, surprise, and tenderness. The view helped too; it’s a very romantic place, if you want it to be, and many come here to propose..
Marco didn’t disappoint when he burst into our room with his Italian energy, which makes this place alive. He can sing too, more than once; he has serenaded a couple when he knows a proposal or a wedding anniversary is happening.
The food was exceptional, his added touches to the combo were obviously because of Cora, and his way of telling me he approved, not that I needed his approval. Marco was like a second father to me through my younger years. I would come here, in this room, and do my homework, because you could never find a quiet moment at home; someone always wanted me to do something, and my homework ended up being done at midnight, when everyone was asleep. I had to find a solution, and Marco gave me one. His sons were like brothers to me, all of us in this room doing homework, and being fed; his wife loved to fill our stomachs before going home.
“Would you like dessert?” I asked softly, my thumb running over the back of her hand.
“God no, I am stuffed, fuller than a Christmas turkey.” I laughed, a full belly laugh.
“Want to go for a walk along the river?”
I walked the cycle track. I think it’s a bad name for this path because cyclists think they have the right of way and can make it dangerous for walkers. I had once suggested making two tracks. That suggestion got shot down, so I suggested a wider path, which also got shot down. Maybe when someone gets hurt, they will listen, because we walkers, joggers, and children have nowhere safe to walk unless we walk on the grass. Typical bureaucratic mess, the club even offered to pay the cost, but the organisers said it would not be aesthetically pleasing. Like the park had to look perfect, and the user’s safety didn’t count. The night was perfect, no cold wind blowing, like the weather decided to put on a good show just for us. The young adults were out swimming in the river, only the moon and the foreshore lights illuminating them, and their laughter floated in the air. Fishermen out on small boats, their rods in the water, trying to catch a meal or two, a few were sitting at the end of the jetty. rods in hand, bucket beside them for their catch, and a fishing tackle box they were sitting on, a thermos of something hot to drink.
“They look like they’re having fun.” Cora pointed to some guys jumping off a buoy not too far away. I was looking out at whom Cora was talking about, when Cora moved away from me, heading to the river edge. and squatted down, touching the water with her fingers. I felt the cold when her warm body left me, and I wanted to pull her back. I hadn’t noticed the night was getting colder.
“How can they do that? The water is freezing. Colder than a cold shower in the middle of winter, when the hot water runs out.” She shivered as she imagined it, making me laugh out loud, and when she stood up and turned back to me, drying her fingers on her jeans, I pulled her back to my side, where she belonged, when she was close enough, and shared my warmth.
That was our night, Cora saying little things, in her way, and me laughing more than I had in, I can’t remember how long. I don’t think she even realises how much that affected me, her little things, and her giggle, which filled her whole face with joy. Never before had a woman captivated me, nor had I noticed nuances like I am seeing with Cora. They were a means to an end, with Cora as both the end and the beginning.
The lads back at the club would call me p***y whipped, and they would be right. I would give my left testicle to keep Cora as mine; she’s like the air that I breathe, and I can’t get enough of it. I don’t sound like the big bad biker, my reputation has me pegged as, and it’s not because she saved my life, it might have been at the start. However, my shaft said otherwise, but not now, now, I need to get her back home, in my life, and so does the club; all of the guys had come to care for her. Some women, well, the women that count, the patched ones, whores don’t count, and those girls don’t want her back, hoping I would soften to them, now that I have been seen as active again.
A cyclist came roaring up behind us, brushing my arm as he went by, hard enough to cause him to veer off the path.
“Get off the path.” The rider yelled as he made his way back onto the path, not looking back at us or checking if he had hurt me when he brushed by. No light on his bike; the lighting on the pathway was enough. However, it was still dangerous, and he had a bell, but didn’t use it, to inform anyone that he was coming by, a simple thing that would make it less of a shock as they went speeding by.
“Are you okay?” Cora turned to me, looking at my arm and shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I rolled my shoulder, checking that it was okay.
“That’s the shoulder you dislocated, are you sure it’s not hurt?” Her face searched mine for any hint of pain
“It’s okay, really, it was just a small bump.” I defended, it didn’t even twinge, and I was more surprised when he came by so fast.
“But if that hit was on the right angle, and just enough force, that’s enough to put it back out so soon after hurting it, once dislocated, it weakens it, and can be out of place easier next time,” Cora explained, her nursing surging forward, as she took hold of my arm. I let her move it around until she was satisfied that i had not reinjured my shoulder. I knew what she was saying. The time she had put my arm back into place wasn’t my first time, and it won’t be my last. It was nice, though, that she cared; that thought did something inside, like another shard was broken away from my cold heart.
“They need to do something about those cyclists, they ride too fast, and too close to people, they could seriously hurt a child, with the speed they travel, do they ride that fast during the day too? Why do they allow it? Would it hurt to make the pathway wider so we can both be on it? What about the rollerbladers, or the skateboarders, they use this path too, but what I have seen was that they were more courteous and made their way around people with me in mind.” Cora nailed it on her first walk on this path, what the problem was, and didn’t need any coaxing from me. If a new person in town can see it, why can’t the council?
“We have tried, but until there’s someone seriously hurt, I dorit think the town planners will change it.” I sighed, having had this argument with the council many times.
“I will send in a formal complaint, don’t worry, I won’t mention you. Tomorrow I will pull up the map around this place, find the path and see what can be changed to make it better for footsioggers. There has to be a solution, and if I give suggestions along with my complaint, it might get seen, rather than put in the box with previous complaints.” Cora was so passionate about this, like her eyes lit up like they were on fire.
Wow, my shaft got hard again.
“I can give you the names and sss addresses of the councillors as well, so you can co them in with your complaint, that way they can’t say they didn’t get the complaint or suggested changes. I wouldn’t mind seeing what you come up with myself.” I was kind of excited to see what my girl was made of, and maybe, just maybe, her complaints and suggestions might be enough to sway them.
Cora POV
The meal was as good as Marco promised, and I was stuffed. I wanted to undo my jeans to make room for my bulging belly, but that might be seen as suggestive, and I am not sure Marco would appreciate us using this room for that purpose. It made me giggle at the thought of Marco growling at Gunner as he pulled up his pants, Would Gunner be embarrassed at being caught by Marco, or smug because he could tick another place off his list of places he had done it?
Best not go there, girl. Ooo la la. I am getting hot and randy thinking about it.
Marco came out to see us off, giving me cheek kisses again and reminding me that he has unmarried sons, for when I ditch Gunner. Gunner was not pleased with that suggestion and told him to go back to the kitchen, where he belonged, and to stop setting her up; she was his girlfriend, and not available to his shenanigans.
“That’s the fire a man should have, keep it up, son, and we might make a man out of you yet.” Marco chuckled all the way back to the kitchen. A plump lady was at the kitchen door, her hands on her hips, growling at Marco, in Italian, before they disappeared together into the back. Hopefully, it was his wife; she had fire in her, which I liked to see, or he let something burn, that thought had me giggling, no true chef likes to see burnt food in their kitchen.
The river walk was beautiful, it was a romantic walk, the moon high in the sky, the sound of laughter from the water, where young lads were swimming, and music coming from a boat out on the water, couples walking hand in hand.
Perfect.
