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“Fraidy cat?” I laughed. I went back in for the kill, balling his shirt in my fist when a gust of wind brought his heady scent back to me. It invaded my world, making me want to stay in this moment. Sex was safe, and what we did well. It was the rest that was dangerous.
The falling.
The joker in his voice was traded for a heat that I felt ravage me when he brushed my cheek with his fingertips. “Don’t worry, you’re in good company.”
I blinked, attempting to swallow the knot in my throat before I choked on it. He was afraid, too? But that meant...
He liked me.
My heart was ready to throw a party, complete with confetti and balloons. My head? It was still in the fraidy cat zone. And the longer we stayed like this, gazing into each other’s eyes, into each other’s souls beneath the stars, the deeper I fell into the terrifying unknown.
I snatched the helmet from him and decided that if I had to choose between the lesser of two evils, I’d go with probably death over doing something crazy like admitting I was falling for a man who ate strangers out in elevators, fucked women in bathrooms, and could make me feel like there was so much more he wanted me to see.
The side braid was perfect, because the helmet slipped right on and even though my nerves had my fingers trembling, I managed to snap the chin strap all by myself. After taking a breath and not thinking about the fact that there would be nothing between me and the asphalt if something happened, I whipped back to Jason. He cut his hand through his shaggy locks and it just wasn’t fair because this was real life and he wasn’t supposed to be so damn perfect all the damn time. His hair should have made me roll my eyes, because whether it was surfer chic or some sort of rebellious edge that was sexy as hell with him in that leather jacket, dark jeans and boots, it should have confirmed that he wasn’t my type. I generally went for clean cut, safe, with low probability for disappointment. In and out, with my lust satiated and my heart in tact.
My heart didn’t stand a chance with Jason Cox.
And even in the dark, behind that hooded gaze, I saw something other than desire and mischief in the blue. It was a guarded, cautious ripple that told me he was afraid, too.
But just like me, admitting that out loud, staying in that place and reflecting on what that meant and what we were doing, was not an option. He glided past me, pausing to give my ass a tiny squeeze before he retrieved the second helmet.
He mounted the bike and cocked his head, beckoning me to join him. “Your chariot awaits, madam.”
I climbed on before I lost my nerve, feeling as gangly and awkward as I did in PE back in high school, my only talent managing to not get hit in the face by flying volleyballs and ensuring whatever team was stuck with me was on the losing side.
I gingerly put my hands on his shoulders.
“Lower.”
It was just a single word, but it was filled with so much heat that my pussy fluttered, all in, on board, down for whatever lied at the end of this journey, as long as it included both of us naked.
I felt my body rattle, my teeth chattering behind the terse set of my jaw. Get it together because if you’re shaking, he’s feeling every tremor.
That thought made me drop my hands from his shoulders to his waist like a guillotine blade falling.
“Tighter.”
And there it was again.
Husky.
Authoritative.
I should have told him he was lucky I was on this death trap at all, but words seemed impossible when he was turning a handful of syllables into the most erotic thing I’d ever heard. I scooted closer, my chest pressed against his wall of muscle and I obeyed, wrapping my arms around his waist. Breathing in the masculine scent of leather and oak. Tempting and sensual.
Without warning, he fired it up and a humming roared between my thighs. The motorcycle was a living, breathing thing that made me wish I had my affairs in order...and that I was naked so I could get the full effect of the vibration.
I squeezed my eyes shut, all the prayers from a childhood spent sporadically in church failing me because the only thing that repeated in my head was ‘Please don’t kill us...please don’t kill us...’ and ‘Please don’t stop’.
And then I stopped praying. Stopped squeezing him. Stopped wondering how quickly death would scoop me up if we crashed. My mind, clearly out to do me in, decided to go with optimism. The way Jason glided in and out of traffic, navigating through the city, leaning into the curves gently, clearly taking his time so I didn’t freak out, made me wonder how much practice he’d had.
How many women had strapped on this helmet and roped their arms around his solid body?
Even after we pulled to the curb and I swept my eyes over the landscape, excitement rippling through me like firecrackers when I realized we were in one of my favorite spots in the city near the marina, I was still squarely stuck in my pity party. Angry about things that had nothing to do with us and where we were now.
I hopped off silently and he joined me.
“See? I got you here without injury or incident.”
