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“Tighten the strap,” I answer, twisting around to make sure the damned thing is secure. “When I move, you move. We lean into the corners together and your hands don’t leave me. Understood?”
She blinks back at me.
“Like, you want me to touch you?”
Unfortunately, in more ways than this.
“Yes.”
I reach down, taking each of her knees and fastening them securely around my hips.
Fuck me.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
Hannah clears her throat heavily from behind me. “Now what?”
“Wrap your arms around me.” I’m pissed off at the huskiness in my own voice.
“Like . . .”
“Around my stomach, Hannah.”
Carefully, she wraps her arms around me, doing this uncomfortable dance behind me to not get too close, but still follow directions.
“All the way, Hannah.”
“I think you’re just doing this because you’re yearning for a hug, but you’re too afraid to ask,” she murmurs under her breath, finally pressing against me.
My cock presses painfully against the zipper of my jeans. This shit’s working out to be foreplay.
I grip her wrists, making sure they’re wrapped tightly around me before I put the bike in gear.
“Remember what I said. Lean with me. On the bike, we’re one. You go where I go.”
“Sounds a little like a Hallmark movie,” she breathes in my ear.
“Little doe, nothing about what I’m going to do to you would be in a Hallmark movie. Now, hold on.”
We take off and the second the bike moves, Hannah’s arms are tightening around me. I chuckle under my breath. We’re not going that fast, but to Hannah, we’re flying.
I remember my first time on a bike. I was eight on a dirt bike Dad used to own. There was no one with me, just Dad from the sidewalk, urging me to try again when I dumped the fucking thing over.
So, I got back up and rode for the rest of the day until I figured it out.
Now, taking Hannah out feels like Dad’s still here, urging me to keep trying.
We pull to a stop at a red light and I reach down, running my fingers over Hannah’s thigh and smirking under my helmet when she stiffens.
Her hand tightens on my stomach, just as a car pulls up beside us.
A couple girls sit in the front seat, giggling and waving at me. I don’t pay any attention to them, but I can feel Hannah stiffen under my fingers.
So . . . I reach up, take her hand on my stomach and slide it down to my cock. Hannah doesn’t move, save for a tremor that slips through her. I, on the other hand, chuckle behind the tinted shield of my helmet and take off as soon as the light hits green.
By the time we reach the gun range, Hannah’s a fucking natural on the back of the bike. Not that I thought she wouldn’t be. She picks shit up quicker than most, but by the time we pull to a stop, her body’s molding with mine like it was fucking made to.
Perfection.
