I rolled Merci onto her back and pinned her arms beside her. “Stop resisting. We’re leaving. Now.”
She struggled against my hold and then paused, her eyes widening. She bit her lip and rolled her hips under me, letting out a low moan.
“Fuck,” I growled low in my chest as my body reacted to her movement.
Her breath quickened, and she bucked her hips against my hard cock again, the friction damn near shattering nearly every thought in my mind. Before the last thread of my self-control frayed, I stood and yanked her up. I tossed her over my shoulder and carried her to my bike, the small crowd of drunken college students staring.
Holding onto one wrist so she couldn’t flee again, I slipped my helmet onto her head and snapped the clasp.
“Get on the bike.”
“You get on the bike,” she countered, tilting her head to look at me in defiance.
I flexed my jaw. “I will. After you. You can’t run if you have my bike between your legs.”
Merci smirked. “I wouldn’t be able to run if I had you between my legs either.”
I closed my eyes, sucking in a long, ragged breath to steady myself. “I swear to God if you don’t get on this bike right fucking now?—”
“Fine, fine,” she interrupted.
I stifled a groan as she swung her leg over, flashing her lace panty-clad ass when her leather skirt rode up. I shifted my body to block the view from the gaping college crowd before swinging my leg over the bike in front of her.
“But what about you?”
I gripped the handlebars and twisted halfway to look at her. “What about me?”
“You aren’t wearing a helmet.”
I snorted and revved the engine. “I didn’t bring a spare. I’ll be OK. You’re the one with the brains, sweetheart.”
Merci wrapped her arms tight around me, and I sped away into the night. I tried to distract myself from the feel of her body curled against mine, her soft tits pressing into my back. She moved a hand down and began to massage my thigh. An involuntary groan escaped me, and I quickly grabbed her hand and placed it back around my waist.
“Behave,” I ordered, the words getting lost in the wind.
“Hatchet?” she asked.
“What?” I barked.
“Can we stop at McDonald’s?”
I shook my head, a rough laugh releasing from my chest. “Sure, doll. We can stop at McDonald’s—but only if you stop touching me. You pull any more shit that will have your brother cutting my dick off, and we go straight home.”
I felt her huff against my back dramatically.
“Deal,” she agreed as she tightened her arms and leaned into a turn with me.
Sitting across from me in a twenty-four-hour McDonald’s, Merci mauled two cheeseburgers and a shake.
“What?” she asked, her voice muffled by a mouthful of fries.
I crossed my arms and shook my head. “Just hoping you don’t remember any of this in the morning.”
“Why?” she asked, all innocence. Like she hadn’t just ground against me in a miniskirt or felt me up on the back of my bike.
I reached for her shake, hoping the cool liquid would anchor me.
A grin crossed her face. “You know I’ve had a crush on you since I was fifteen?”
