Page 31 of Their Tracked Obsession

I groaned as I lifted the visor up, and Saint took a seat on his motorbike. Sin released the kickstand on his motorcycle and took a seat. He put on a helmet, visor up, and revved the engine.

“Get on.” Sin patted the leather pad in front of him.

“There?” I pointed at the seat. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Sin nodded and put his visor down.

“Okay…” I gripped the handlebars, but Sin tapped me on the shoulder.

Sin shook his head, waved an index finger at me and gestured with it to spin around. The crazy bastard wanted me to face him. He still wanted to steer.

Sin revved the engine again while I hesitated. I stood there, contemplating my life decisions. Unsure if I should put myself in such a dangerous position.

Sin patted the seat a second time and tapped his imaginary wristwatch. I was wasting precious time. I could call a cab, but I’d risk being late.

I heaved a heavy sigh, lifted a leg, and closed my eyes as I got onto the bike.

In one swift motion, Sin pulled me closer to him, and my eyes shot open. He straddled the seat and ran his hands up my legs. He caught a good view of my panty lining as he wrapped my legs around his upper body.

Sin slapped down my visor. I gasped. My backside laid down against the motorcycle and Sin took off, but I had no time to be pissed at them.

As mortified as I was, I saw nothing but Sin and the bright blue sky above me. The perfect depiction of an ideal day out of the ordinary while my heart beat wildly against my ribcage. I was alive. Free. Time slipped by, and I suddenly wanted to let go.

My hands traveled up to Sin’s helmet, the vibrations of the bike hummed up my back, and I couldn’t help smiling. I laughed, running my fingers down his chest as the fabric of his shirt waved in ripples with the forceful wind. I let go of him and carelessly released my arms above me as if I were one with the air. A sacred dance with Mother Nature without a goddamn care.

Sin steered with one hand while the other caressed my thigh, and he hoisted himself up. His hips thrusted. The presentation of the thruster was laughable. He was much better in bed.

I giggled at Sin and slapped my hand against his chest. He continued to thrust closer to me, and his groin pressed into my pussy. The temperature heated. My clit pulsated, the area became sensitive, and waves of pleasure blasted through me.

Sin ran a finger down my helmet, the sweet caress I wished was against my skin, and he grabbed my helmet. He made me look to the left. My heart stopped dead.

Saint did daring push-ups on top of his motorcycle. His hands were on the handlebars, and he maintained complete control with the tips of his shoes on the leather seat, almost touching the taillight. Vehicles honked, but I was far too turned on by him. These men of mine definitely knew how to ride.

Sin continued his thrusting motion against me, and my hands went to his hips. Strong, powerful, and talented bones of steel. Christ. He felt amazing.

Our helmets touched, as intimate as a caress. I wanted to kiss Sin badly, but this damn headgear was in the way. Instead, I opened my visor and blew him a kiss. I heard him groan with the purr of the engine as he revved the handlebars, and we drove faster.

We whizzed past cars, trucks, and streetlights. Saint was hot on our tail, back on his seat and eyes on us. My heart pounded in my chest, afraid of the speed, the risk, but living in the thrilling moment. I felt incredibly aroused, and I knew the seat below me would be wet.

I didn’t care. I almost didn’t want to make the cake tasting appointment and travel elsewhere. Somewhere for the three of us.

Alone. Deserted. Discreet.

I opened my mouth, ready to protest, but Sin quit his hip thrusting. The braking of the motorcycle stopped the idea, and the risqué threesome halted altogether. I clamped my trap shut, blushed, and sat up.

I scurried off the motorcycle as soon as the machine came to a complete stop. Saint pulled up beside his best friend. He took off his helmet, and his eyes met mine. Those steely baby blues penetrated me right there on the damn pavement in front of the bakery.

Sin put down the kickstand and touched the spot where I sat. He opened his visor, locked eyes with me, and sniffed his hand.

“Someone is randy.” Sin took off his headgear, placed it on the leather pad, and licked his fingertips. “Did you enjoy my hog, sweetheart?”

I walked backward and lost my balance for a second, far too caught up in his trance. I should be embarrassed, like a fucking klutz, but I couldn’t with them. My future husbands didn’t want me to be ashamed in front of them.

My backside bumped into a metal post on the curb. I yelped. The street sign barely missed my damn head. Thank God I had cat-like reflexes.

Sort of.

Sin chuckled.