Gendry was surprised by how awful a pillion passenger Arya was. What had happened to her? The old Arya would have had no difficulty leaping on the back of a bike and had always been game for anything. He vividly remembered his old dirt bike and the fun they had without even so much as a helmet between them. Is this happens when you go off to London and became a Lady? Sure, he liked the physical changes that had taken place in the last three years, but at what expense? He was sure the old Arya would have been mortified he had to pull over and ask her to hold onto him, for fear she was going to make him crash with all her wriggling and bumping. Honestly, it had been like having a bag of angry ferrets behind him.
She had looked miserable in that lay-by, but things had definitely improved after he'd told her to just hang on to him. She was now stuck to him like a limpet. He didn't mind. It might hamper his riding and make it harder to breathe when she really squeezed him on the bends, but it was fucking amazing to feel her against him.
Soon they were at his flat. A local builder had bought some disused land and named the small development after the original use of the site – 'The Forge'. He had to move out of his home after his Mum died as the cottage was for the use of the manageress of the local pub. As her employer, Lord Stark had tried to help Gendry as much as he could. He had come to see Gendry in the cottage as soon as he heard the news, paid for the funeral and offered him another six months lease on the cottage.
At the funeral he had taken Gendry aside and given him a cheque for £30,000. Gendry had been dumfounded and protested that he didn't want to accept charity. Eddie Stark had gently explained to him that, had his mother reached retirement age, she would have been entitled to the money and Gendry was only getting what his mother should have. So Gendry had taken the cheque and would never forget how Lord Stark had helped him at the worst time in his life. Gendry knew his mother had never paid into a pension plan and he had never heard of any of the other Winterfell employees getting a pension, but he wasn't in a position to argue. His mother hadn't left any money and without that gift, he would have been in dire straights. If Robb and Jon knew about the cheque they never mentioned it, but Gendry would never forget that kindness. His mother never had any money and that gift was the only reason he'd been able to afford the deposit on the flat. The week after her funeral Gendry had gone to the bank with Eddie Stark's cheque, applied for a mortgage and moved into the new flat six weeks later. He just couldn't stand the cottage without his mother there and had to move on and out as quickly as possible.
His mother had never owned a house, although she'd often talked about maybe being able to buy her own place someday. Gendry knew his mother would have been so proud to have seen him in his own flat. For months after he moved in, still even now if he was being honest, he would find himself wanting to tell her what he'd done to it, or about the latest thing he'd bought for it. He often thought of her when he vacuumed or did his chores. All those years he'd lived with her he had hardly lifted a finger to help her around the house while she was always tidying and cooking and running around after him. Now he didn't have her, he felt keeping his flat clean and tidy was his way of saying, "Sorry Mum. I wish I'd helped you more and now I'll show you I can do it." So, a two bed flat might not be what Lady Arya was used to, but it was his and he was keen to show it to her.
He held the communal entry door open for Arya as they walked in. He always held a door open for a lady and Arya was certainly that. There was also another motive for his chivalry - he wanted to make sure he was behind her again as she walked up the stairs. Yep, that swaying arse had the same effect on his cock as it had on the Winterfell stairs an hour before.
When he opened the door to his own flat he watched her face carefully, waiting for her reaction. He desperately wanted her to like it and to feel at home. Robb and Jon certainly liked coming here as that his spare room of his had seen more action than Jason Statham. He was relieved to see her smile and hear her compliment him on the pictures all over the walls. They were mostly bike related or photos he had taken, but they were all professionally framed. Through a mate, he had been asked to do some fabrication and welding work for the local gallery's display stands and, rather than paying him, they had come to an agreement to mount and frame his pictures in exchange.
"Phew". He thought as her beautiful face lit up in a smile and he let himself relax a bit. Another hurdle crossed.
"Right, come on and lets see what I've got that'll fit you".
She followed him into the spare room. He kept his bike stuff in there and he had a pair of leather salopettes he was sure would do. He had bought them by mail order a few years ago and, even with the braces fully extended, they had always been a bit too tight and short for him. For the first time he didn't curse himself for not sending them back. He held them up in front of her.
"If I shorten the braces as much as possible I reckon these will fit ok. At least you'll be warm and it's a lot more protection if you fall off." From the look on her face, she didn't want to hear anymore about falling off. He also pulled out an old leather jacket.
"I think this might be too big, but try it anyway and see if it's better than your own, ermm, jacket".
She was standing with her hand on one hip pouting at him. God, what a sexy mouth she had. Did she know he just wanted to peel her out of those jeans here and now, throw her on that bed and fuck until she came screaming? Better get out of there Gendry and adjust your crotch before you embarrass yourself with a trouser tent.
"Right, I'll just leave you to get on with it shall I?" and he tried to get out the bedroom, which meant he had to squeeze past her, round the edge of the bed. As there wasn't much space, their bodies touched as he manoeuvred past her. The briefest touch was enough to give him an instant hard-on. God, what was she doing to him? She didn't move away, in fact perhaps she might even have arched her back a bit, sticking her hips out further, just to make it harder for him to get past her. "Harder" was the right word. Trouser tent erect, he cursed himself for being so easily aroused as he escaped out the door.
