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“No.” He rested his forearms on the tops of his knees, “He’s on a job, he won’t be back until morning.”
“Okay.” I swiped at my tears and looked out the windshield at the bikes in my way. “I’ll walk home, and he can bring my car home whenever. I don’t even care anymore.”
I grabbed my backpack off the front seat of my car and went to stand but he was still knelt in my way. “You’re not walking home.” He said firmly before rising and holding his hand out to help me out. “Come on.”
I looked at his hand, and then at him in question and decided to just let the fuck go for once and let him pull me up. His hand was so warm on mine, just like that night when he’d held onto my arm when I tried to wake Blaine up for him.
My skin pebbled from the contact, and I shivered. “Have you ridden before?” He asked and pulled me around the numerous bikes to where he was parked by the retaining wall at the edge of the lot.
“Motorcycle?” I asked in disbelief, and he nodded, “No.”
He smiled and I was mesmerized by the sight of it on his dark face. “Well, there’s only two rules to it really.” He said as he grabbed his jacket out of the pack on the side of it. He took my backpack from my arm and set it on the ground before wrapping his large leather jacket around my shoulders and then zipped it up. “Rule number one, lean with my body, not the bike.”
“Huh?” I asked in total confusion. The scent of him was surrounding me from the worn leather of his jacket.
“And two,” He continued, “Hold on to me. Tight.” He accentuated the last word as he grabbed onto the front of the jacket I was wearing and pulled my body tight to the front of his. “Got it?” He asked, looking down at me sternly.
“No. I don’t got it.” My eyebrows crinkled together over my eyes, and I shook my head, “I just screamed at you for five minutes straight. Like, I’m pretty sure I just had a psychotic break in the middle of the parking lot.” I shook my head again, “And now you’re offering to give me a ride home?”
“I’m not offering. I’m taking you home, no question about it.” He said, releasing his hold on the jacket and I stumbled backwards a step. He picked my backpack up and slid my arms into it before buckling the front clip over my chest and I sucked in a quick breath as the back of his hands brushed over my breasts. Even over the thick fabric of his jacket it felt powerful. “Now,” he said, reaching up and tying his long hair into a bun on the back of his head. “What was rule number one?”
“Huh?” I asked stupidly, I wasn’t confused anymore; I still was in shock. The temper tantrum I’d thrown had really frazzled my usually calm and levelheaded brain.
“Rule one, D, tell me what it was.”
“Lean with you.”
“Good girl.” He smirked at me, and I bit my lip to hide the smile I wanted to give back. “And rule two?”
“Uh, hold on to you.”
“How tight?” He raised a dark eyebrow at me.
“Tight.”
“Like I’m a bull at a rodeo and you’re trying to stay on for your full eight seconds. Got it?”
I swallowed audibly, “Yep.”
He smirked again “Tie your hair up, or it’ll be a nest of tangles by time I get you home.” He said and I instantly did as he said, tossing it into a bun on the top of my head. He threw his leg over his bike and folded down the pegs behind his legs and started the bike up. “Get on toots.” He yelled over the roar of his pipes and held his hand out, but I froze. He smiled and shook his head, grabbing my hand and pulling me forward. “Right foot on the peg and throw your leg over.” And then he hauled me forward so hard I had no choice but to throw my leg over his bike or I would have fallen on my face.
I clutched at his leather vest as he reached down and lifted both of my feet onto the pegs and then put his leather gloves on.
Why was that sexy?
I took a couple of calming deep breaths as he adjusted himself to ride and then he looked over his shoulder at me, “Tight, D.” He grabbed my hands and wrapped them both around his waist. I clutched at the soft fabric of his tee as my chest plastered against the warm leather on his back. “Here too,” He grabbed my knees and pressed them tight to his thighs, “I’m a bull remember. Squeeze me tight with your thighs.”
I nodded my head again and then he flicked his kick stand up and gave it throttle, pulling us out of the parking lot and onto the street. “Shit.” I gasped, tightening my arms and legs around him as he weaved in and out of traffic at breakneck speeds.
Okay, not breakneck exactly. But sitting on the back of a Harley, clinging to this man, it felt like lightyears passed us with the blur of headlights from oncoming traffic. I dared to peek over his tall shoulder and watch where we were going and quickly got even more nervous as I saw the objects in front of us before he swerved around them.
So I tucked my head back down behind his back and burrowed in against his warmth. He took a deep breath and then rested his elbow on my knee and ran his hand up and down my calf. “You doing alright back there?” He asked over his shoulder as he slowed down for a red light. I wanted to roll my thighs and rub my clit against the vibrating leather underneath of me. His touch was sending shivers of pleasure up my spine and he was only touching my calf, through my jeans and his glove. Yet it burned like a brand.
“Yeah.” I squeaked and nodded my head in case he didn’t hear me over the pipes. His touch was intoxicating.
“You cold?” He asked and I shook my head no. I was on fire. Electricity burned through my body like I was living for the first time in my entire life thanks to the high. He took his hand off my calf and ran the inside of his bare arm over my fingers where I fisted his shirt. “You’re freezing.”
Sure my fingers were cold from the breeze, but I didn’t feel it. I was too exhilarated.
