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I shake my head.
“Nobody drives Suga but me.”
He scowls.
“I let you drive the Challenger.”
“So?”
“So, it’s only fair that you let me drive your baby,” he states.
I cross my arms over my chest and smirk.
“I never said I play fair.”
“You’re a mean woman.”
I laugh.
“Can you even drive a motorcycle?” I ask.
“Of course, I can. I used to have one myself. Graham and I would ride all the time.”
“Used to? What happened to it?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer just looks down at Suga’s controls.
“Corbin?”
“I totaled it. We were out riding a steep dirt road after a monsoon and the gravel was loose.”
“Uh huh, get off my girl,” I demand.
“It was an accident,” he insists.
I walk over to the hooks by the door and grab the two helmets that are hanging there. I turn and toss the spare one to him.
“You want to ride? We can do that, but you’re riding bitch, buddy. Scoot back.”
He catches the helmet and places it on his head and fastens the chin strap, then he slides back. After my helmet is secured, I straddle the seat in front of him and he wraps his arms around my waist.
I look over my shoulder and grin.
“Don’t worry. I’ll try not to scare you too badly, but you already know I like to drive fast so you better hold on tight.”
He pulls me back into his chest and brings his mouth to my ear.
“Show me what you’ve got,” he whispers against my skin.
Oh, I will.
I crank the machine to a rumbling start, pull it carefully out into the night and then I open her wide and give him the ride of his life.
Corbin
Last night, I cooked my mother’s famous spaghetti alla carbonara for Maxi. It was a hit. And to show her appreciation, she modeled every single sexy piece of lingerie she owned, and we went through four more condoms.
I was drained this morning. I needed fluids and food. Luckily, I had been proactive and picked up a dozen eggs and a slab of bacon at the market as well.
