AllFreeNovel
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Tucker holds out the riding gloves he removed from one of the saddlebags for me to take, his hand grazing mine.
Zap!
“I wish you would stop doing that!” I start putting the gloves on.
“Not me, lady. It’s you. You’re a spitfire.”
“Sure. Like I am zappingyou, you are the one always touching me first.” He grins, handing me the spare helmet taken from the king tour-pak behind the pillion seat.
We both remove the Fainting Goat Ranch caps, and Tucker places them in a saddlebag.
I get busy putting the full-face helmet on while Tucker throws his leg over the bike, seating himself in the pillion seat with his helmet in his lap.
“You can wriggle that bubble butt of yours into place, and then I’ll gladly wrap my legs around you and give you the reins.” He’s the cat who thinks he got the cream.
I climb on, ignoring his comment.
Ophelia—one, Tucker—zero.
Tucker acts like he believes he got the better deal. I am the one who gets to be in control and show him that I’m a good rider.
“Looks like I am the winner again,” he murmurs against my neck, wrapping one arm around my waist to hand me the key. The touch of his beard lingers, sending all kinds of sensations through me before sitting back to put on his full-face audio helmet.
Something occurs to me; I’ve not once thought of Chance and Aubrey since we landed until now. I shoot my cousin a quick text. His response comes back immediately, as though he is waiting for me. In a nutshell, Aubrey will revoke my sisterhood license if I don’t have breakfast and lunch with Tucker. I feel guilty leaving them to all the animals, but I know I won’t hear the end of it from Aubrey if I go home before 9 a.m. without food in my belly and stories to tell of my adventures.
I undo my ponytail, making sure to shake my hair out, then I wind it around and stuff it up into the helmet.
I start the bike up, taking a moment to set up the com system and music I want to play for half of the ride. I have a Bluetooth helmet at home, so I am familiar with the setup. My playlist is on my phone, so I pair it with the Boom system. These helmets also enable us to talk to each other.
“Tucker, I hope you are ready to enjoy my playlist?”
“Hamlet, from where I’m sitting, you could play Mozart’s Don Giovanni, and I will still be the clear winner. I can already tell I am going to love riding pillion.” As though to make a point, his hands rest on my waist, his thumbs moving back and forward.
The man is insufferable.
And you keep telling yourself that.
I pull out of the field with The Doobie Brothers singing “Taking It to The Streets,” fully aware of the man spooning me with his fingers resting lightly on my waist as he drums them to the song.
We both know he doesn’t need to touch me, and I know I’m not going to tell him to stop.
With the bike’s rumble between my legs and the sexy man behind me, I fear I will be in libido trouble for the first half of the journey.
Tucker starts singing along loudly to my song choice.
And he’s good.
I wriggle in the seat.
“I might have to play some opera,” I mutter to myself, forgetting he can hear me.
“Shakespeare, are you sure you don’t want to slide in behind and spread those legs on either side of me?” Tucker chuckles.
Damn intercom.
The cocky arse knows what he is doing to me.
“Just sit back and enjoy the ride, Tucker,” I say in as dry a tone as I can muster.
