Something about motorcycles turned me on. I wasn’t sure why but they were just so sexy. And when there was a hot driver I couldn’t stop myself from staring. I had no idea who this guy was but he was one of the men that had saved us from Woodbury and brought us to the prison.
He caught my staring and glanced at me while fumbling with his cigarette. He patted his pockets for a lighter so I walked up to him and offered mine.
"Thanks," he said and looked me up and down, dragging off the cigarette.
"You smoke?" he asked.
"Not cigarettes," I grinned and he chuckled and looked me up and down once again.
"What’s your name girl?"
"It’s rude to ask a lady for her name before introducing yourself."
"Ah, my bad," he grunted, but blushing slightly trying to be polite.
"My name is Daryl Dixon," he said sticking out his hand. I took it, shook and gave him my name, glancing at the gate and licking my lips. I was sick of sitting around doing nothing.
"Can I help you with anything?" I asked and he smirked while a thought crossed his mind but he remained polite.
"No, I’m alright. The things I need I can’t ask from you," he said and I grinned slightly.
"Is that so?"
"I’m pretty sure, It would be rude to ask for something like that," he said trying to wave it off. But hell, we were all human…
"Well…" I started, giving him a deep stare. "I did ask you if you needed help with anything…" He understood what I was implying and grinned, throwing the cigarette away and scooting forward on the bike.
"Maybe I can help you in exchange," he said and I winked at him, climbing on the back of his bike, knowing fully well a man like him could satify my needs just like I would his.
"I think you can Mr. Dixon," I smiled as we drove off.
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