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Chapter Seven
“Safety first,” Dalton announced. He reached to the back of his bike and grabbed his helmet. Dalton didn’t know what had come over him, asking Anya to go ride with him while her mother stood there. Subconsciously, he had a small sense of doubt in the back of his head.
What if she would have said no?
Now, with her standing in front of him, he knew it had been a sound decision. Her wide eyes were staring up at him, and his heart did a little dance.
“The helmet may mess up my hair,” she muttered, smoothing her dark tresses down with her hands.
“Messed up hair or brain damage? Take your pick.” He chuckled.
“Well, since you put it that way.” She rolled her eyes, and a smile graced her beautiful lips.
Lips he’d tasted.
Needed to again.
He drew in a ragged breath, trying to regain control of himself.
Dalton closed the gap between them to allow him to carefully put the helmet on her head, securing the strap underneath her chin. He breathed in her scent, and his cock hardened. Her soft, flowery perfume awoke something in him. He wanted to nuzzle his face in the crook of her neck and bask in her smell.
Her soft, brown, flawless skin made his fingers ache. He wanted to strip all the clothing from her body and go on an exploration. He wanted to see all of her, the color of her areolae, discover if she had any tattoos or piercings, and see what her —
He paused that train of thought. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable ride with a hard dick.
“There,” he murmured, stepping back from her.
“Thanks. How do I look?” She moved away from him and playfully struck a pose, modeling her new accessory. She’d gone and changed her clothes, putting on a pair of jeans that looked as if she had to be poured into them. Her dark shirt hung off one shoulder, and she’d put on light makeup. Her feet were encased in a pair of casual shoes.
“Beautiful.”
There was no denying that. Anya was a knockout, thick in all the right places. He was a large man and needed a woman whose curves would fill his hands.
Her gaze narrowed, and she stepped toward him. She tilted her head back and stared up at him. “Is this our official first date or something?”
“Whatever you want it to be.” He reached out and ran a finger along her plump bottom lip.
Before the night was over, he’d be getting another taste of her.
Her lips spread into a killer smile.
Unable to resist, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
“Date it is,” she breathed, her eyes opening.
“Your chariot awaits.” He took her hand and guided her toward the bike. He threw a leg over and motioned for her to get seated behind him. She slid on, and he bit back a groan. “Wrap your arms around me.”
She leaned forward and did as he’d suggested. Her breasts were crushed against his back, and her thighs pressed alongside him. He swore a slight moan escaped from her.
“Like this?” she asked breathlessly.
“Yeah.” His voice came out strangled. He turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life. He guided the bike down the driveway and onto the street. He gave it some gas, and they were off.
Anya squealed and tightened her grip on him. Dalton’s laugh was cut short when her legs squeezed him.
Images of her legs wrapped around him while he thrust deep inside her came to mind.
Cool it, man, before you crash this damn bike.
