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I wait for him to start the engine, the light reilluminating the space we’re in, and once he has the bike off the stand and he nods to me, I climb on as instructed, with my bag slung awkwardly over my shoulder.
I don’t know where to put my hands. He said to hold on…but where?
“Shoulders, waist, or grab rail. It’s your choice,” he says gruffly, obviously sensing my indecision.
I slide my hands over his porn-worthy shoulders but it won’t work; he’s too tall. I continue my descent, down to his waist but I have to shuffle forward to actually be able to get my arms around him.
His heavy hands land on my thighs, making me jump, and he pulls me closer so that my legs are practically straddling him rather than the bike, and my core is throbbing against his ass.
Fuck.
“Hold tight, Candy,” he says, before gunning the engine and taking off. I scream, and even through the helmet he hears me because his chuckle vibrates through my body, even over the purr of the engine. I quickly pull my bag into my lap, trapping it between our bodies, before returning to clinging on to him for dear life.
He reaches back and pats my thigh, almost in question? Like he’s checking if I’m okay. How do I tell him I am?
I clench my thighs together in response and it seems to be the right thing to do because he speeds up.
I don’t have to give him directions; he seems to know exactly where he’s going, and he gets me home a hell of a lot quicker than I could have on my own.
When we pull up, he squeezes my thigh again – maybe this time saying it’s safe to climb off – and my body reacts violently to his touch. I jerk away with a gasp and my skin zings like I just got shocked, even through my clothes.
Fumbling with the helmet in a desperate attempt to get free and run from him, I drop my bag.
“Shit.”
“Here, let me.” Don unclips the helmet with practised one handed ease, and then while I’m pulling it off, retrieves my bag.
“Thanks,” I say, exchanging items with him. I unzip the jacket but he stops me from shrugging it off.
“Keep it. Until you get a coat sorted.”
“Thank you.”
“This is a pretty nice place for a girl who doesn’t have a coat.”
“It’s not mine. I’m between flats and crashing with a friend for a while.”
“I see. Look, the boss said I have to see you in safely, so why don’t you lead the way?”
“That’s really not necessary, you’ve done enough.”
“I insist.”
Biting my lip, I nod and fish the keys from my bag. Don follows close behind me every step of the way.
When I open the door, the apartment is in darkness. Elle must be staying at her boyfriend’s tonight. I flick on the lights and turn to Don.
He looks frozen.
“You really should take the jacket. It’s cold out, and I’m sure it’s already started to snow.”
“I’m fine.”
“Can I get you a coffee at least? To warm you up?”
“Sure.”
We step inside and he closes the door. I remove the jacket and hang it up along with my bag, and then toe off my boots.
