Page 47 of Misadventures of a Biker

My face flushed. Teaching me a lesson with anal sex as the punishment sounded like a good idea. “Umm. Yeah. You might still need to do that sometime. You’ll have to be gentle, though.”

He looked me up and down. “Say the word.”

“I think I just did.”

He glanced around, admiring the work and then met my amorous gaze. “I’ve got another surprise for you.”

I giggled. “You’re going to teach me a lesson?”

He laughed. “Not right now, no. I’ve got a guy who wants to see it.”

“See this?” I asked excitedly. “The house?”

“He does. As soon as it’s done. I’m not sure of his qualifications, but he knows what the asking price is, and he wants to see it. I told him we were making updates. He knows today’s the day it’ll be done.”

“Who is he?”

“Vinnie the gangster,” he said with a laugh. “He’s a Jersey Italian.”

“Oh, he’d be perfect,” I said. “And you never know with those guys. I had one try to pay me five million for a home in Bonita with a few shoeboxes filled with various denominations of cash.”

“Did you do it?” he asked. “Take the cash?”

“Between you and me?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“Of course,” I replied. “We had to get pretty inventive, but we made it work.”

“Just be prepared for a foul-mouthed, over-the-top, in-your-face showing,” he said. “This guy’s a real piece of work.”

“Will you be here?” I asked.

“Actually, I prefer to spearhead the meeting if it’s all the same.”

It sounded silly to admit, but I was extremely proud of Devin. He’d shown initiative, talent, excellent taste, and considerable knowledge throughout the changes to the listing. I gazed at him admiringly for a moment as he surveyed the home.

“What’s the happiest you’ve ever been?” I asked.

I wanted him to feel the same way I did but felt childish for asking the question. I waited nervously for him to respond.

“Happiest or most satisfied?” he asked, still focused on the home.

“Aren’t they the same?”

“I don’t think so,” he replied, facing me. “Being happy is a joyous state. Being satisfied is more a feeling of contentment. Happy is a stage above satisfied, I guess.”

“Okay. Satisfied. When were you the most satisfied?”

His gaze dropped to the floor. After a long period of thought, he lifted his eyes to meet mine. “When I got out of prison.”

I wasn’t shocked. Not really. I was more surprised that he admitted it to me. “I imagine it was pretty satisfying. It would have to be.”

His brow furrowed. “You’re not going to ask what I was in for?”

“If you want to tell me, you can.”

“I was scared to tell you,” he said. “I want this relationship to be transparent, though. I don’t want to keep anything from you.”