AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The bike roars to life beneath me and despite the ferocity of the engine starting, we glide into the traffic as serenely as a ballet dancer. The helmet is open-faced and the wind makes my eyes water. I close my eyes and tighten my grip around his waist, my body pushing firm against his. The bike throbs underneath me. It is both exciting and unnerving, and I can’t hear anything except the ricocheting of my heart and the thundering engine.
This is surreal. I must have hit my head harder than I thought. How did I end up on the back of this motorbike with this guy, heading towards my aunt and uncle’s house?
Oh fuck, Aunt Trudy will be home.
She’ll insist on an exorcism when she sees me ride up on the back of a motorcycle with a wet t-shirt and the devil himself, according to the back of the leather vest I’m wearing. And she’s not even Catholic. It will become one more reason to withhold my money.
I squeeze my eyes shut and tighten my arms around him. We come to a stop at a set of traffic lights and he runs his hand along my arm until his fingers meet mine. He laces our hands together, his thumb gently rubbing the top of my thumb.
The sudden throbbing need between my legs matches the idling engine and leaves me breathless. I imagine what it would be like to ride off into the sunset with this guy, let him ravish me on some distant beach, or in a cabin in the woods, or anywhere that isn’t here.
Leave Aunt Trudy and Uncle Bob and their cult-like religious beliefs behind.
Except they would still have my money. Damn it.
The bike rides over a speed hump and I open my eyes. Who was I kidding? I don’t even have the guts to take this crucifix off, let alone openly rebel against my family and ride off with some guy on a motorbike. I don’t even know his name, but for some unknown reason, I am on the back of his motorbike - trying hard not to grind against him. You’d think I was sixteen years old, not two months from turning twenty-one. My life is such a mess.
The bike slows and he turns his head and yells, “Number forty-three?”
We’re already home?
“Yeah,” I shout back.
The bike shudders to a stop right in front of the house. I unlatch my arms from his waist and ease my way over the side of the bike until my foot touches the ground. With the grace of a new-born giraffe, I swing my other leg off and totter about, trying to find my balance.
“Whoa there.” Strong hands grip my forearms. Our eyes lock as I clutch at his arms. His hair is windblown from riding without a helmet, his fringe falling forward instead of swept back. His nose is a little too big and his lips a little too thin. But his jawline is strong and those eyes… When he smiles, as he is now, his whole face transforms, lit up by those chocolate eyes.
What am I thinking? My imagination has gotten the better of me and I need to get inside the house before Aunt Trudy discovers me with this guy and reigns hell down on earth. I reach for the helmet buckle but somehow manage to pull it tighter.
“Here, let me.” His tongue touches his top lip as his fingers brush against my neck and he focuses on undoing the latch. Electricity ripples across my skin sending a lightning strike to my groin.
“Rebecca, what is the meaning of this?” A voice shrills from above. Aunt Trudy stands on the front balcony, glaring down at us.
“Rebecca,” he repeats softly, as if tasting my name.
“I prefer Becca,” I mutter, turning to face my aunt. “Hi, Aunt Trudy.”
“What are you wearing?”
I glance down at the leather vest. “Oh, I spilled a milkshake all over me and my t-shirt was a bit too see-through so…” I turn back to the man standing beside me. I guess I hope his name might appear or something.
“Zep,” he says.
“What?” Is he actually reading my mind?
“My name is Zep.”
“That’s not a name,” says Trudy, leaning over the railing and clutching her own crucifix around her neck.
Zep shrugs. “It’s what I answer to.”
Trudy rolls her eyes. “Take that ridiculous vest off and get inside this house immediately, Rebecca.”
Indignant heat spreads up my neck and over my cheeks. I’m not a child, and I’m certainly not her child. I hate how she has this power over me.
“Don’t just stand there.” Her voice is like a drill boring into my brain. Hot tears prick the back of my eyes.
“Becca?Nowplease.”
