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His lips graze across my mouth, sensually and with a slow burn. My eyes close on cue, allowing myself to feel this sensation of lust.
“I want to take you somewhere.”
I react timidly. “I’m scared.”
His forehead presses against mine, his words are strained. “I won’t hurt you.”
I pull my body away from his, distancing this closeness and placing my helmet on. He can hurt me. Yet, I get on his bike, wrapping my arms around his body which comforts me instantly. He jumps on the gas, rubbing his hand on my thigh, warning me to hold on.
I do exactly that, awaiting this adventure with Wesley Rich.
Chapter Ten
The tires brake hard against the gravel, causing a whirl of dust to float in the air around us. My hands are shaking uncontrollably, making it difficult to peel them off his chest and the leather jacket he wears.
My foot touches the ground giving me the confidence I need to get off the bike, take this stupid helmet off, and shove it i
nto his body.
“Hey,” he yells, off guard. “What the hell was that for?”
“You’re a jerk!” I huff, angered by his reckless driving and not paying attention to the way I dug my hands into his chest in fear.
“Milana, calm down.” He rolls his eyes with annoyance. “You’re alive. See, you just need to live a little.”
“Living a little is eating a whole cake by yourself or jumping in the ocean naked,” I respond hastily, still shaking, “Not driving like a maniac almost killing me.”
He grabs the helmet from me, hooking it on the handlebar. “You want to jump in the ocean naked? I’m all for doing that next. Malibu is only a few miles from here.”
“What?” I shake my head, confused by his suggestion. “No, it’s just rambling. I don’t want to actually do that…” I trail off, distracted by my surroundings. It’s incredibly dark, the moon hiding behind a scattered cloud. I scan the area in front of me that appears to be a large park of some sort. It’s only when I focus on the lawn that I notice the tombstones. We’re at a cemetery.
“What are we doing here?” My hand latches to his arm, my body closing in on his to shield myself from the terrifying thought of where we are standing.
“Do you trust me?”
“Are you going to kill me and bury my body in the middle of the night?”
Even in the dark, I see a smile grace his handsome face. He drops his hand, intertwining his fingers in mine. He pulls me along the pebbled path, confident and familiar with where he’s leading us.
“Watch your step.”
The cool night air and fear of dead people surrounding me cause my skin to break out in goosebumps with my hairs standing on end. I don’t want to let on I’m shitting my pants, keeping my thoughts to myself, though my eyes tell a different story.
“See this grave here? It belongs to an actor, Jesse Lane. He was a rising star back in the sixties.”
The poor lighting makes it hard to read the tombstone’s inscription. Gone too soon. Those words stand out.
“That’s sad. I wonder how he passed?”
“He threw himself off a cliff.”
I stop breathing, resuming seconds later. “How do you know this?”
“I come here often, just to think.”
“How very Gomez Addams of you.” I attempt to lighten the moment, terrified that I have accidentally stepped on someone’s grave.
“Come.” He leads me through a pathway, down a small hill until we reach a large tombstone. It’s very run-down—almost neglected—with dead flowers wilted against the old stone.
