AN: A thank you for those who took the time to read the first chapter, special thanks for the reviews and the messages I received. I decided to turn this thing into a story. I have it mapped out in about 7 chapters and it is starting to form in my head. I find it hard to write, but I am trying to learn as I go and by renewing my contract with the free online dictionary. Got to start somewhere. Originally this was supposed to be a Happy story, but it was Tig who was standing in that bar called Crossroads. Dominant fucker, glad he did though ;-)

Anyways, hope you enjoy the read!

The night is still relatively young but my feet are old and tired. What was I thinking walking out of that bloody club house? There are a zillion of things I could have done instead; ask Tig for a ride back, call a cab, hitchhike, hotwire a car, have hot steamy sex, but noooo I had to decide to play it cool and walk out. Cool my ass, I huff to myself, I am as cool as the fucking flipside of a pillow.
I sit in the driver's seat of my car and rub my feet.
No pain, no gain and today was a great day. One day in Charming and I made enough money to get me through the next couple of weeks. I never worry about money, but it sure feels good when it is already sitting in my pocket instead of waiting for me in someone else's.
Still I am sitting here in my truck with nowhere to go. That will be the first next thing on my list after food, figuring out where to go from here.
With the seat laid back and my feet up on the dash I am listening to the music coming through the car speakers. A moment of peace and quiet to rethinking today's events. A wide smile comes over my face … fuck it, I got nothing better to do and I have to know.
I quickly grab a dark pair of jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt out of my duffle bag and change my clothes, sighing with upmost content when I put on my sneakers. Nothing beats comfort.
I start the engine of my car and set course to the 'Tipperary Inn'. I am curious to see if dipshit will actually show up to meet with the cute thing that he met this afternoon. I can't help but giggle at the thought.
Not willing to take the risk of dipshit recognizing my truck I decide to park it a couple of streets away from the motel. I convince myself, and my feet, that it will be worth the walk.
The 'Tipperary Inn' is your typical old school motel. A single building with connecting rooms whose doors are facing the parking lot. Room number 124 is nearly on the outside corner.
The parking holds the impressive amount of give or take six cars and I seriously hope they have a side job or a very booming holiday season, because this isn't going to keep the kids fed. The lot is not very well lit and seems to be deserted apart from the two employees near the entrance who are probably on their smoke break and the man standing to my right. If he wasn't smoking I would never have noticed him. The tip of his cigarette glows up in the dark every time he takes a drag.
I find myself a nice spot in the shadows close enough to have a 'front row seat' view of the room but still far enough not to be noticed.
I sit down on the ground, legs stretched out in front of me and I lean back supporting my body by resting on my elbows. I love nights like these and I take a deep breath letting the cool, refreshing evening air fill my lungs. I listen to the sounds of the night and the rustling of the little creatures in the bushes around me coming out of their hiding spots and doing their thing.
I light a cigarette and try to keep it out of sight of my company to the right, I don't really want to give away my presence. Fucks knows, maybe it's one of those sociopaths with a sexual disorder and a lively imagination who is staring at the motel rooms, imagining what goes on behind the walls while he is jerking off. Nah, that's unreal. A sociopath wouldn't be standing out here on the lot, he would be right up there looking through the window. It's probably some sad fuck who is checking on his missus, now finding out why she always has a headache when he gets home from work.
I close my eyes and for a moment my mind shuts down. A rarity for me but so appreciated. Not for long however, because my impulses are stimulated by the thick, heavy, smell that drives up my nostrils. Weed.
'Sad fuck' is smoking a joint and all of a sudden he is worth investigating and about to be upgraded to my potential new 'friend'. I make my way through the bushes into his direction staying in the safety of the shadows. Looking at his silhouette I don't see any repetitive movement of one of his arms. Not jerking off or … just finished. The heavy smoke circles in the air and urges me on to introduce myself. A car passes on the road behind me, giving me that little bit of extra light to get a better glimpse of 'sad fuck'.

"Heya Tigger."

I stop dead in my tracks when the tingling feeling in my lips and my rapidly increasing heart rate take me off guard. There is something irresistibly sexy about an attractive man smoking and Tig is one sexy smoker. I take a moment to imprint this visual into my head for later reference. He is standing there looking at me with that cocky expression on his face, spliff hanging loosely from his lips. His head tilted to the side as he stares back at me with one eye squinted to avoid getting smoke in his eye. His hand moves up and takes hold of the joint between his thumb and middle finger as he takes a long hit. I see his chest come out when he inhales the smoke deep into his lungs. His hand comes down from his mouth now casually hanging next to his body. A cloud of smoke lingers around him when he exhales and again when he lets out the residue for the second time. A sigh escapes me. Something is seriously is wrong with me or I need to get laid, probably both. Smoking is bad for you and should be illegal, especially when it is done so goddamn sexy. Remind me to sign the petition tomorrow.

What brings you here Tig?" I try hard to keep my breath even and regain my self-control, but I can tell he picked up on my embarrassing moment of arousal.

"I had to get out. Koz is still pissed off for losing his money and I …" He closes the distance between us in one swift move. So close that his lips are nearly touching my cheek and I can feel his warm breath brushing my skin in contrast with the cool of the night's air. "I am pissed off because I never got to fuck you." I gasp for air and I can hear myself whimper.

I shake it off and move away from him. "Ok."

"Just ok?" I see him thinking 'that shit again?' He lets the smoke escape through his nostrils and for a moment I see the resemblance with a smoke blowing dragon. "You should stop that you know." His words drenched with built up frustration.

"What?"

He points his finger at me warningly. "That 'ok' thing that you keep doing. It pisses me off."

"Ok." My eyes open wide giving my face that innocent 'oops' expression. "So, you gonna share that spliff with me or not?" I sit down on the ground again and settle back into my position. Legs stretched out, elbows supporting my body. Tig drops down on the ground next to me, leaning on his side so he can look at me. He offers me the joint and watches me inhale the smoke with an absurd intensity. His eyes follow his finger that is tracing the shape of my face, starting at my temple and following his way down my jawline, the nail of his finger scrapes over my skin and I can feel the slight burning sensation of the scratch. He roughly lifts my chin up by applying pressure on the weak spot just behind the bone my lower jaw. He has this examining look in his eyes, like he is studying and awaiting my response, still with this same absurd intensity in his eyes. He seems completely caught up in his own world.

"Tig. You scare me." The words come out unfazed, free from any form of emotion.

"Ok." And just like that he releases the pressure and looks back at the motel. "Think fuckhead is gonna show up?" He asks as he takes up the same position as I am in.

I laugh "He better, that's what I am here for. Aren't you?"

About ten minutes later a car pulls up, I clasp onto Tigs arm. "It's him." I can't deny the excitement rushing though my body. Seeing dipshit get out of his car I can tell that he clearly made an effort to clean himself up, blue jeans, white sneakers and a white slim fitting shirt to emphasize his muscled arms and tanned skin.

"I bet fuckhead even changed his underwear." Tig says in a lowered voice.

I look at Tig and shake my head. I can't hold back the smile on my face. Weirdo.
Dipshit also referred to as fuckhead walks down the gallery to what is supposed to be my room and I watch him hesitate, unsure if he should knock on the door or hightail it out of here.

"Come on dipshit, grow a pair." I say under my breath. "Come on."

Tig and I exchange looks, both grinning, both feeling the childish excitement of having done something naughty and now watching it play out.
We watch how dipshit takes a deep breath, pushes out his chest and knocks on the door. I see a light come on in the room and the silhouette behind the curtain tells me someone is making his or her way towards the door. The door opens half way and an eighty-something year old man stands in the opening. White sport socks, hairy legs, lose boxers, a wife beater that shows off his white chest hair. His top jaw stands out significantly causing an overbite and he has a huge pointy nose. He has what I call 'flowerpot-hair'. A big bold spot on the top of his head the size of … a flowerpot and a wide band of hair on the back and the sides.

"Oh my God he is well sexy." I giggle and fake a longing, sensual moan earning a concerned look from Tig. I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing to loud.

Dipshit is well shocked and I suppose he has a right to. The door slams in his face and he shakes his head in confusion as he walks back to his car. I am trying my hardest to contain my laughter but I can feel the tears already forming in my eyes. The muffled laughs and noises that are coming from Tig are making it nearly impossible for me to keep quiet.
Dipshit looks into our direction and Tig puts his hand over my mouth. "Ssssh." I blink both my eyes at him in acknowledgement. It amazes me how fast Tig regained control and forced us both to be totally silent. When we hear the car door slam shut Tig releases his hand from my mouth and we explode into a full on laugh.

"Did you see dipshit when Mr. Burns opened the door?" I squeal.

Tig looks at me with frowned eyebrows as if I lost the plot.

"Mr. Burns …. The Simpsons? Bloke looked just like him. Just not as yellow."

Tig laughs at my description but the look on his face tells me that I just gave him conformation that I am seriously out of my mind. We both lie down coming down from our rush and talk and laugh about dipshit showing up tonight and how I worked my ass in the crossroads this afternoon.

"This is the best time I had in a long time." I let out, happily swaying from left to right by shifting my weight between my elbows.

"Stop that."

"What?"

"That rocking that you do, it makes me feel seasick just by looking at ya. It pisses me off."

"Fucking hell Tig, there are a lot of things that piss you off tonight aren't there?" I say with mock annoyance. "Why don't we play a game, make a list of all things that piss us of? I start, it pisses me off when I can't find the keys to my car when I am already late leaving. Your turn."

I can tell Tig is thinking and I wonder what his mind will come up with. He is shit in playing this game, it is supposed to go fast and be fun, how hard can it be? It's not a life or death situation. Two times I think he is going to say something but then he stops and rethinks again. "Boybands." He says eventually.

"Boybands?" I repeat, not believing that after all that thinking this is what he comes up with.

"Yeah, they piss me off."

I look at him and wrinkle my eyebrows at him. "ooooooo ….nevermind."

And there he is again, right in my face. Sociopath. Total disregard for my personal space or boundaries, doesn't give a shit about my emotional, physical or sexual wellbeing. "You were gonna say it again weren't you?" he growls.

"Yep." I sigh popping the 'p'. I can't win with him.

"Ok." There is that boyish twinkle again lighting up his eyes.

I roll my eyes at him. Fucking hard work he is. You know those people who go from one extreme to the other? People who are anxious and agitated the one minute and laid back and relaxed the next? Tig has mastered that trait and flips the switch like it is a piece of cake. Cake? Mmmm. My stomach lets out a loud groan.

"You hungry?" he asks.

No shit Sherlock. "Yeah, I never got round to eat something earlier."

I follow his eyes as he looks at me up and down but I gave up on wondering what he is thinking and decide to just wait it out and take it from there. Life is hard enough as it is, so I am trying to make it as simple as possible.

"You gonna wait till someone comes and serve you dinner or are you gonna get off that ass and come for a bite to eat."

I imaginary shake my head processing his words. "You buying?" Giving him my signature adorable cheeky grin.

"Fuck that, I spend enough money on you as it is and so far I haven't seen my money's worth." He seems agitated with me again and to be honest it is starting to piss me off. Now there's one for the list … 'It pisses me off that you chance your moods faster than a greyhound chases the hare'.
There are a lot of things I could say at this moment but I opt to keep my mouth shut and get up. I wipe the sand of my jeans and see him waiting for me on his bike.
I climb behind him and wrap my arms around his waist locking my fingers in a tight hold. His hand comes down quickly to do his safety check on mine and he speeds of the lot. He rides more aggressive than he did earlier when he picked me up in front of the barbershop. It feels like he is caught in his own little world again. That or he is out of his comfort zone.

We ride for a good ten minutes before we stop at a diner, it looks like they are about to close for the night however the neon sign in the window still says 'open'.
I follow Tig as we walk inside, the tell bell announces our arrival, Tig drops in one of the corner booths and I slide in across from him. I take the menu of the table to have a quick look. Not long after we placed our orders, the food is on the table and I am wolfing it down. The smell of the food made me realize I was starving.
Being finished with my plate I push it away from me and I sit back against the backrest letting my stomach digest the intake.

"That was good." I look at the clock in the diner. 01.30. "This will do me for a few hours." I say with a wink.

Tig grins but ever since we walked into the diner he barely spoke a word. It doesn't bother me, I am feeling my after dinner dip kicking in and a big yawn escapes me. Just when I am about to relax, Tig chooses to start speaking. I seriously suspect that he has been waiting for the perfect moment to start bugging me.

"What brings you here?" Tigs eyes narrow on me and I can sense that the question is more loaded now, then when dipshit asked me the same kinda thing this afternoon. Tig doesn't want to know what brought me here, he wants to know what I am doing here.

"Passing by and wasting time really." I answer honestly. "There is a pool tournament in Oakland in about 3 weeks and if I qualify I can go to San Francisco. I'm slowly making my way up there."

He's face didn't relax but I guess my answer was sufficient enough. "Are you staying in town till then?" he asks casually.

"I never overstay my welcome. Even though I love small towns like this, they aren't really my territory. I can't keep going to the same bars, doing what I do and expect to walk away from it." I shrug my shoulders. "With today's innings however I am in not much of hurry no more."

"I am going … " He hesitates as if he is searching for the right words "away for a few days, should be back Saturday."

"Oooo….lright." Nice rescue Sue. The two letter word nearly escaped me. "And you are telling me this why?"

His face lights up and he looks at me as if I asked something really stupid. " 'cause I haven't fucked you yet."

Persistent fucker. He really has his dick set to it. "It's more about the principle of it then about the fuck itself isn't it?"

He nods. "Plenty of other pussy around."
Thank you Tig, that's just what a girl wants to hear. The fact that I asked didn't mean I wanted to hear the honest answer. Fucker.

"Thought you were more into blondes." I snap back at him unable to keep my feelings at bay.

He sports an evil grin, looking pleased with my building anger. "Means you just have to work a little harder." I see that naughty twinkle shine again in his blue eyes when he throws me that snidey comment.

"You are such a dick." I spit out. Funny, interesting, incredibly attractive, but such a dick and I bet he is proud of it.

He tilts his head in a cocky way and leans over the table. "And your problem is?"

"Get me out of here Tig."

I put some money on the table and he looks back over his shoulder making a huge display of checking out the blond waitress. He is pushing my buttons and he fucking knows it. He follows me outside to his bike. Now that's a first. Not counting my blessings yet, still testing the waters. His manual, if he comes with one, is about as thick as the prison rule book that you receive on your first day of arrival and by the time you ploughed through it, you come to the conclusion that everyone else in there is going by a totally different book that you need to write yourself as you go.

"Where to?" he asks.

"My truck."

I love riding on a bike, the wind clears your mind, like you are riding away from all the things that are weighing on your mind, leaving them all behind you on the road. I feel myself relax and ask Tig to go faster and I hear the Dyna's loud purr in response. The feeling in your stomach when the throttle opens, the bike responds and you feel the forces pulling on your body. I compare it with a rollercoaster ride. The built up of the excitement inside your body when you are climbing the height. For a split second you think about backing out and then comes the drop. Gravity starts pulling on you and for a moment you feel weightless … free.
He slows down and I give Tig directions to my truck and he parks up next to it. I get off the back and can't control the silent tears that roll over my cheek. Tig notices but doesn't say anything.

"Don't ask." It is strange but that short ride gave me a release I needed for so long. "I only just realized how much I needed that." I point to his bike.

Tig doesn't respond in any way, shape or form. No offence but I didn't expect him to suddenly connect to his feminine side or to understand why females get emotional over the strangest things at the strangest times for no apparent reason. I did however see him storing information in his head. I am not too sure if I want to go there. Hopefully we never have too. Once he had his fuck, because I am not going to deny myself that, I'll be gone. Spread my legs and fly, so to say.

"Where are you staying?" His question pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Here." I answer as and wave at my truck. "I never planned on staying in town, so I never sorted myself out with a place to stay. I guess my plans changed tonight so I will find somewhere tomorrow. It's alright I lock the doors."

Tig doesn't look impressed with my answer. "You're coming with me." It's not a pick up line or one of his attempts to get me in the sack. He is seriously against the idea of me staying in my truck overnight.

I shake my head. "I live on the road, I can take care of myself." The words come out calm and collected. I am so not going to have this argument.

When he pushes me into the side of my truck I can feel that he hasn't agreed with me, the battle is still ongoing, he only moved it to another battlefield. Actions instead of words, doing what he does best; reacting on impulse. He closes in on my body his hands on either side of me, pinning me in. He presses his chest into mine, nearly knocking the wind out of me, his lips silencing mine. He's telling me to give up and give in. The weird, fun, obnoxious side that I got to know today is tucked away in the depths of his being. He comes on to me full force. Overpowering me in a hard, demanding and intimidating manner. Regardless the physical attraction and building frustration between us, this has nothing to do with affection and I doubt it has anything to do with lust either. This is about showing me who the stronger one is. He is telling me, ordering me not to talk back to him. I fight it, resist it, ignore it, but I am loving it all together. The strength that is vibrating from him is transferring onto me and it is making me tremble inside. Instead of forcing me into submission it is empowering and fuelling me. It makes me feel stronger. His hands on my hips, pulling me close to him. I feel his hard erection push against me and I feel the warm, wet patch between my legs in response. I wrap my legs around his waist. I hear myself panting and moan in his neck. He forcefully bucks his hips into me, my back hits the side of the truck, my nails digging into the leather of his cut. I feel his tongue in my neck and I close my eyes. It's been too long and I feel the fire burning in my body, hot and cold shivers are rolling down my spine. His hands move from my hips to the small of my back. His movement slows down, he is thinking, processing again. 'No please don't stop! Don't you fucking stop.' I beg and scream inside my head. His mouth covers mine and my tongue tries desperately to relight the fire again.

"That's not going to stop anyone." He groans in my mouth. I break free from his tongue and put my head in his neck, licking and suckling his skin.

"I shoot pool Tig not people." My words come out ragged. The heat of the moment is fading but my breathing is still heavy and my body burns for him. I let my legs slide down his so I am standing on my own two feet again. He cups my face with his hands and the roughness of his skin is teasing my senses. He hasn't controlled his breathing yet either and it is still irregular and deep. He looks in my eyes and I have trouble focusing on his.
His eyes are serious and have a dark glow in them that I haven't seen before. I guess he flipped the switch on me again.

"You weren't carrying in the clubhouse." He says in the reprimanding tone that I recognize from earlier today.

I have nothing to say to that. He is right, I wasn't. "I didn't think that of all places, I would get shot or need to fire a gun in your clubhouse." Call me stupid but me waving my gun around in the clubhouse would more likely get me killed then protect me.

"You walked back to your truck with nearly a grant on you … alone." He is pissed off, another one to add to the list.

He is right though. I hate it when he is right. I admit, it might not have been my most clever move as of lately, but still he has no say in it. I can hold my own and I have been doing just that for years and last time I checked I was still breathing. Who does he think he is telling me what to do or not to do?
"You let me walk out." Huh? Where did that come from? Fucking nice comeback! If he wasn't so pissed off I would even consider doing my little victory dance.

"You are such a bitch." He is right but he doesn't need to be such a dick about it, because I am right too and he knows it. He did let me walk out of the clubhouse, knowing I wasn't carrying and he just let me. He wasn't bothered by it then, so he shouldn't be bothered by it now.

"You any good with it?" He asks without letting go of my face.

"When I aim I fire it, not once, but till I run out of rounds. I don't wait and I don't hesitate. I don't warn and I don't do threats. If I don't kill you, I sure as hell will slow you down."

He stares at me in an odd crazy way. "Good girl." I guess that was the right thing to say. He pulls me closer and gives me a mind dazzling kiss that makes my knees buckle.

"You look after yourself Sue." He says it like he means it even though his words leave no room for talking back to him. I know he is leaving now. I can't win with him. I might have won the argument of staying in my truck but I am left the feeling that I had rather gone with him instead. He lets go of me and steps away.

"See ya when I see ya Tig." I say softly.

"See ya Saturday Sue." He lets go of me and straddles his bike giving me another one of those head to toe glances. For a moment I think he is coming back to me to fuck me senseless against the side of the truck. "Wear something else." He says and without looking back he starts the engine and rides off. Dickhead.

I get in my car, lock the doors and recline the seat. Saturday, where, when, how…. I guess I am sticking around for a while then.

AN: I have written roughly 4000 words of the 3rd chapter, but need to rewrite about 4000 of them. I hope to update in about a week. I hope Sue and Tig will jump each other's bones by then. Guess we will have to wait and see.