Page 22 of Triplets for the Rival MC

Tori

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Hunter says, nuzzling my neck and pulling me into his embrace.

Since our talk, things have been going great with the guys. Hunter and I are still sleeping together while I take things slow with Flint and Cyrus. We’ve been hanging out all together and alone. Today, the guys have a full day of activities planned, a little date with each of them. Starting with an early morning bike ride with Hunter. I can tell he’s excited as he resists my sleepy seductions as I wiggle my butt against his morning wood.

“And you say I’m the insatiable one,” he chuckles playfully, nipping my ear. As much as I’d love to stay in bed all day with you, if we don’t get going soon, you’ll be late for your date with Flint, and I, for one, don’t wanna be in his bad books again any time soon.”

He’s got a point. I don’t want to be late for my other dates. I know the guys have all worked hard on their surprises for me. I only know what Hunter and I are doing because we had to buy a helmet and leathers for me, something he couldn’t do without me being there to make sure they fit.

“Alright, fine, but I get first shower.” I get up out of bed, no longer feeling insecure as he watches me.

He smiles wickedly at me. “I figured we should shower together, just to save time, of course.”

I roll my eyes but grin back at him. “As tempting as that is, you know we’ll never make it out of the house if we do.”

“True, I’m just too irresistible, it’s a curse,” he says, dramatically falling back on the bed.

I throw a pillow at him. “Cocky asshole.”.

The sound of his laughter follows me into the bathroom.

After a quick shower, I throw on my leathers and tie my hair back. Hunter emerges from the shower as I’m finishing, a towel wrapped around his waist. He lets out a low, appreciative whistle.

“Damn, you look good in leather.”

I bloom under his gaze. The more he tells me how attractive he finds me, the more I’m slowly learning to love my curves, too. My leather pants and jacket get-up is not the sort of outfit I’d have been caught dead in before, but I have to admit, I do feel kinda sexy. Bad ass and tough, the kind of ‘don’t mess with me’ woman I’ve always admired.

“Right back atcha, handsome,” I say with a wink. It’s true, Hunter looks even sexier in his riding gear.

His leather vest has the Ghost Riders patch on the back, it hugs his broad shoulders, and paired with leather pants that showcase his fine ass, he’s a sight to behold. He catches me watching him and pretends to clutch his pearls, scandalized. “I’m not a piece of meat, Miss Tori.”

I roll my eyes, but I hide my smile. I love it when Hunter is in a playful mood. “Come on, before I chicken out and change my mind.”

I’m only half joking. Today is the first time I’ve ever properly been on the back of a bike. I don’t count the night they took me from home since I was so terrified that I barely took anything in. As Hunter is keen to point out, today we’re riding for the fun of it, for the joy of the open road, rather than with a destination in mind.

Hunter squeezes my hand. “You’ll be fine. I think you’re gonna love it. But, if not, just say the word, and we’ll turn around and come right back home, okay?”

I nod, steeling my courage. “Okay.”

I trust him completely, but a small part of me worries I won’t enjoy it, that I’ll be too scared, and I know he will be disappointed. All of the guys will be. It’s such a big part of their lives, and I know we don’t need mutual hobbies, but I still want to be able to share this passion with them. If I hate it, I’ll feel like I’ve failed. It’ll confirm what I’ve always feared, that I don’t belong in their world.

Hunter’s bike awaits us in the garage, over 500 pounds of aluminum, steel, and chrome. It gleams, polished to a shine, a thing of beauty and power. The smell of motor oil and wax hangs in the air. He rides a Harley-Davidson, the classic kind you see in movies. Hunter told me the make, but I’ve forgotten it, and I don’t want to ask again for fear of offending him. It’s his prized possession, his baby. I’m pretty fond of it too, but for different reasons, I think, remembering our passionate sex on it.

He climbs on with practiced ease, tossing me my helmet as he puts his on. “Ready?”

I bite my lip, wondering how to climb on gracefully without making myself look a fool or inadvertently scratching it somehow. Hunter doesn’t say anything, he just patiently waits for me to build up my courage. I’m grateful for it. If he tried to convince me everything is fine or told me that I don’t have to do it, I’d feel like even more of a wuss. If I can live with my father and survive, I can handle a little bike ride.

I climb on the back, wrap my arms around his waist, and take a deep breath as the engine rumbles to life, vibrating pleasantly between my thighs. “Let’s go.”

***

When we return home a few hours later, saddle sore and beaming from ear to ear, I’m officially in love with motorcycles. The exhilaration, the feeling of freedom, the pure joy of riding fast, it feels like flying.

Flint is waiting outside the house as we pull up, leaning casually against his bike. He smiles, a slow, sexy grin that makes my heart flutter. “Well, you look like you had fun.”

“I did, it was incredible!” I say breathlessly as Hunter helps me off the bike. I turn to Hunter and fling my arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for encouraging me to be brave and try it.”

“You’re welcome, it was my pleasure. Have fun, you two,” Hunter says, clapping Flint on the shoulder before tactfully heading inside.