Page 87 of Irresistibly Wicked

“That must have cost a fortune. Why would you do that, when we can just go for a ride when we get back home?” She sounded seriously annoyed.

“Angel, you’re married to a biker. I get that you don’t really know what that means yet, but it’s more than riding motorcycles. It’s a state of mind. It’s as much a part of me as the blood in my veins, and it comes before everything else except you and the rest of my family. I see stretches of highway and winding mountain roads, and I see freedom waiting to be chased. We’re surrounded by gorgeous countryside, and I want to share that with you. I want to show you how it feels to leave your worries and everything else behind, and give yourself over to the wind and the open road.”

Her brow furrowed, but her eyes took on that dreamy look she got when she first saw Kitty, and her tone softened. “Couldn’t you have just rented a bike? I don’t like you spending so much money because of me.”

She said it so sweetly, the urge to gather her in his arms was overwhelming, but he was skating a dangerous line, having already revealed too much of the truth. He needed to put a little space between what he felt and their reality. “Well, then, darlin’, you’ve got the wrong impression. Bringing my bike here is a purely selfish act. In my world, a man’s bike is like his wife. There’s no substitute, and no self-respecting biker puts his wife on the back of another man’s bike for her first ride. If anyone’s going to believe we’re madly in love, you’ve got to get to the point where you’d be shocked if I didn’t have my bike shipped here.”

“I guess I didn’t realize it was that important to you.”

“Now you know. Are you cool with going for a ride?” He’d researched the area, and with the help of his cousins in Upstate New York, he’d figured out the best places to ride.

“Yes, but I’ve got to be honest. I’m nervous about it. I’ve seen some pretty gruesome motorcycle accidents.”

Fuck. He’d been so excited to share this part of himself with her, he hadn’t thought about that. He gave himself hell for acting like the old Zander, putting himself first and not slowing down enough to realize how scary this might be for her. “I’m sorry, Angel. I didn’t think this through. We don’t have to go.”

“I want to,” she said quickly. “I’m just nervous, but I know you’ll drive safely, and you’re right. If we’re going to sell this relationship, I need to be your badass biker babe.”

He grinned, relieved. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured into it.”

“I’m no wallflower, remember? I speak my mind.”

“You sure do. Thank you for trusting me. I got you something.” He climbed into the back of his truck and opened the crossover tool box.

“Do I get my own power tools?” she asked as he snagged a bag from inside the box.

“Maybe someday if you play your cards right.” He jumped out of the truck and closed the tailgate. “I wanted to surprise you with the ride, so I hid these back there in case you wanted to lie down in the backseat on the trip up.” He pulled the black helmet he’d bought her out of the bag and handed it to her.

“It’s so shiny and pretty.” She turned it around, a flicker of surprise rising in her eyes as she brushed her fingers over Angel written in pink script on the back of her helmet. When she lifted her eyes to his, they were soft and alluring. “I love it. Thank you.”

“Good. Hopefully you’ll like this, too.” He took the helmet from her and handed her the black leather jacket.

“Zan, this is too much,” she said as she admired it.

“You need it for protection.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to think about that, but I’m glad you did.”

He watched as she turned the jacket around and saw Zan’s Angel embroidered in the same pink script as her helmet, with four white-and-pink flowers beneath it. It wasn’t just practical or thoughtful like the helmet. It was possessive. He was telling the world she was his. Her eyes brightened, beautifully unguarded for only a second or two before caution moved in.

“I figured you’ll always be my Angel, even when we’re no longer married, so…”

She smiled and thanked him, but the way she clutched the jacket against her chest, like it mattered, spoke the loudest.

“Let’s go, biker babe.” He slung an arm over her shoulder, and they went to get his bike.

After a quick but thorough lesson in passenger safety, they were on the road.

The engine roared, the wind whipped, but all Zander felt was Shauna, warm and solid against his back, her arms wrapped securely around him. She held him tighter around the turns, and before long, he noticed the slight shift in her weight as she allowed herself to trust him even more, leaning with him, following his lead.

He’d never driven slower, never leaned into curves more carefully, never before felt like everything in his life was this fucking perfect.

Chapter Thirty

SHAUNA KNEW THE damage motorcycles could do, the way twisted metal and broken bodies shattered lives. She should be tensing at every bump, bracing for every turn, but she wasn’t. Zander had gone over what to expect, and he’d told her to tap his stomach if she wanted to stop. He’d said that tap was like her safe word, which had made her laugh, but it had also made her feel like she had a modicum of control. She hadn’t realized she’d needed that control, but she was glad he had. She was still reeling from the gifts he’d given her. She probably should have given him a hard time for giving her a jacket that basically announced she was his property. But the part of her that she hadn’t realized existed until he came into her life and treated her like she was special and worth protecting melted every time he called her Angel and liked being his Angel.

The soft leather jacket and the shiny helmet fit perfectly, and when she’d wrapped her arms around Zander, feeling his strength and confidence, that had felt perfect, too, and her fears had fallen away with the wind.

It didn’t make sense. Nothing about them did, but when they were together, whether they were hanging out at home or knocking around town—or apparently, if she was in his arms or on the back of his bike—she felt safer than she ever had. Zander was giving her a lot of never have I ever moments. Like this glorious ride. As the world sped by, more vibrant and beautiful than ever, she’d never felt more at peace, or more invincible. That, she knew, wouldn’t be possible without that feeling of safety.