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“I warned you not to do that!” But she was grinning, pink in the face as she swiped his arm. And suddenly the energy was light and playful, like they’d finally negotiated a space that was okay to enjoy each other in.
“So where are we going?” she asked.
“I’ve been looking at maps and I reckon we should go north.”
“Good idea. The beaches up there are beautiful.”
“Crowded?”
“No way.” She laughed. “Most people still call Perth a big country town, sandwiched between the desert and the ocean. I reckon it won’t be too crowded.”
“Granted,” he said. “Sometimes it’s hard to get my head around how isolated it is here.”
“I love it. So much space,” Polly said. “Shall we go? I don’t think I can cope inside here much longer without the wind on my face, I’m getting claustrophobic already.”
She grabbed her denim jacket, a little backpack, and they exited the house. When they reached his bike he said, “I have snacks, and water.”
She nodded, eyes big in her face. Solo climbed on the bike and then instructed her how to get on behind him. “You can either hold the panniers or hold on to me. I’ll go slow, but the rule is to move with my body. If I sway to the left, so do you.”
“Okay, Capitan,” came her muffled voice in his ear. A pair of arms snuck around his waist and he tried to ignore the corresponding thrill that snaked its way down his spine.
“Hold on tight.” He started the engine, took it slowly, moving off with the easy grace of someone used to living in the saddle, and soon he felt her relaxing into him. Her thighs braced his hips as they made their way through the city streets and along West Coast Highway.
The heaviness of her body, the feel of her arms around him, the sway of her thighs, was a lovely backdrop to the great swathe of turquoise sea and low bush as the city fell away. After half an hour he stopped, they took off their helmets and he broke a muesli bar in half and handed a piece to her. “How are you feeling?”
“I love it.” Her eyes sparkled; big bright emeralds in her flushed face. “I could keep going forever.”
It suddenly struck him that riding off into the sunset with Polly pillion was an idea he could get used to.
“I’m going to show you to a special, secluded beach,” she said to him, dusting crumbs of muesli bar off her chest in a way that had him telling himself to keep his eyes firmly on her face.
“Yeah. How far away?”
“Another twenty minutes ride, I guess.” They got out their phones and she showed him on Google maps. “It’s not that hard; take the turning to Yanchep, and then follow your nose. You can’t miss it, there’s really only one road.”
“Okay.”
He tried not to let excitement take hold at the thought of pristine secluded white beaches, but his body pulsed out an unmistakable beat. And then, with a shared smile, they were slamming down their visors, and Polly climbed on behind him like she’d been doing this her whole life, and they were off, with the wind in their faces, until they reached the sign for Yanchep.
When he caught sight of the ocean, Solo’s breath hitched. Sure, the beaches over east were beautiful, some of the best in the world, in fact, but it was the absolute wildness, the white sand and turquoise sea and dune grasses sweeping off as far as the eye could see, that made his soul sing.
And now, with the most beautiful woman riding behind him, Jesus, what more could a guy want?
His heart felt like it might just explode right through his leather jacket as he got off the bike and unzipped it.
“Okay,” said Polly, ripping off her helmet and jacket. “It’s swim time.”
He looked at her, aghast. “Hell, I didn’t even think about bringing bathers.”
She grinned, and the dimples danced in her cheeks. “Ah, Dr J, looks like you just might have to skinny dip then.”
* * *
Polly hadn’t exactly staredbut she hadn’t averted her eyes either as Solo stripped. She rifled through her backpack and brought out her teeny-weeny red bikini and a towel. She knew she was one of those women whose curves always looked better the less she wore, and as she tugged off her jeans and T-shirt and shimmied into them, Solo, in full sunshine, looked pretty damn good too as he got naked.
He’d turned slightly away from her and his lean, tight butt and long muscled thighs dusted with dark hair made her mouth water. His back was beautiful, all the muscles perfectly defined like some classical Greek statue, and she remembered how he’d felt under her fingers, strong and hard, his skin velvet-smooth.
Firecrackers of longing crackled between her thighs. Maybe they could forget the swim?
