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We’d been riding in silence for almost an hour, taking in the sights of the city. The partygoers, the tourists, the sex workers, and street performers, the lights and the fountains, and even the mountains. With every mile that passed, my shoulders loosened and relaxation wove its way through my body until I was practically melted against Jameson’s back.
Eventually, we needed a break, and we found a parking lot close to home filled with bikes. “This cool with you?”
I put my hands on his shoulders and jumped off the bike. “Fine by me. My legs were getting a little wobbly anyway.” I shook out one leg and then the other, before stretching my arms and back.
“Stretch away. I’m gonna go mingle, wanna join me?”
“Nope, I’m good here. You go have fun.” I shooed him away with a smile so he wouldn’t worry. “I’ll be around.” I watched Jameson walk off, his gait long and relaxed, his shoulders broad and strong. The man drew stares everywhere he went, and for the most part, he seemed oblivious.
He accepted a beer with a smile and a handshake and took a long swig that had me feeling jealous of that bottle of beer. Those lips had been on me like that, just a week ago, and still, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Hell, some nights I could still feel his lips on mine, his cock, long and hard, between my thighs.
A hot biker chick with long blonde hair sauntered over to Jameson, her pink painted lips curled into a smile as she held out her hand in introduction. Her riding leathers clung to her body, and Jameson took a long, appreciative look while the woman flirted.
I looked away quickly, ignoring the jealousy that fired up my blood. She was a walking, talking wet dream. Of course, Jameson was interested. Every biker in this parking lot was interested. He’s my friend. Nothing more. I told myself that as many times as I needed to hear it, which was plenty since the woman was shooting her shot in a big way.
Her tits pressed up against his chest as she asked a question. Jamie pointed to her bike, and they fell deeper into conversation about a common interest they shared.
I turned away again, accepting a can of beer from a passing biker. Drowning my sorrows in alcohol was definitely not my jam, not after being raised by an alcoholic, and her revolving door of alcoholic boyfriends. I finished the beer in three gulps to enjoy a nice buzz that would be short-lived, and I turned down the next offer that came my way.
He’s not mine. I did a fairly good job of not looking back at Jameson and biker Barbie, mostly because I didn’t want to see them having such a good time, and I didn’t want to imagine myself their third wheel.
“No thanks,” I mumbled under my breath.
Why stay and torture myself when I could leave and torture myself in private? I turned on my heels and ran right into a very wide, awfully familiar chest. “Jamie? What are you doing?”
His gray eyes stared down at me, sparkling with mischief. “Going somewhere?”
“Yeah, I think I’m gonna head out.” I tried to step around him, but he stepped left when I stepped right, right when I stepped left, damn him. I growled my frustration and fisted my hands on my hips. “Where’s your friend?”
Jamie’s lips twitched in amusement. “My friend is right here. And she’s jealous.”
“No, she’s not.”
“What? Not my friend or not jealous?”
I gave his massive chest a huge shove that did fuck all to move him, which produced another grown.
“Take your pick!” I stepped around him and started toward the parking lot exit with Jameson’s laughter at my back.
I made it about a half a block before Jamie caught up with me on his Harley. “Where are you going, Madds?”
“To Ashby Manor. Duh.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” He stopped at the curb and held out a helmet for me. “Put it on and hop on.”
I snatched the helmet and growled as I jumped on back. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
He laughed and revved the engine, taking off quickly so I had no choice but to hang on tight. Not that I minded, but that wasn’t the point. Jamie drove until he spotted a gourmet ice cream stand and turned off the engine. “Chocolate and vanilla good with you?”
“I can buy my own ice cream,” I insisted.
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Just answer the damn question.”
“Fine, yeah that’s good with me. Mr. Bossy.”
“That’s Officer Bossy to you, missy.”
I rolled my eyes and gave my body a pep talk as Jamie made his way slowly to the front of the long line. What part of friends don’t you understand? Just because he smelled good and felt big and hard up against me, didn’t change who we were.
