"Oh, lover." He lets himself be guided, out the door, and to the bike, opening the saddlebags and pulling out a decent sized canvas wrapped parcel, that really shouldn't have fit in there, but actually seemed to. Hmmm.
"Eat out here? Or we could ride out to somewhere? Or in your dining room, kitchen... you tell me. It's your holiday."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2005-12-11 11:46 pm (UTC)"Eat out here? Or we could ride out to somewhere? Or in your dining room, kitchen... you tell me. It's your holiday."