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“Let’s take the Harley. I know a beautiful spot not far from here.” As he gives me a once-over, his grin is infectious. He turns his head away, awkwardly running his hand though his hair, like he’s trying to hide his face from me.
“Why do you do that?”
“What?” he asks, his expression uncomfortable as he grabs a black helmet and shrugs on his own leather jacket.
“I like your smile,” I tell him.
Our eyes meet, his dark gaze searching for something until he seems to find it. The corner of his mouth twitches. This time, he doesn’t look away; that brilliant grin steals my breath. It seems like I’ve passed some kind of test, like he isn’t afraid to show me who he is.
“I was born with dead nerves in my left bottom lip,” he says, involuntarily rubbing the dark stubble on his jaw. “Dad says it’s why I sound like I do.” He shrugs. “I used to hate my smile and the way I sang.” He puts on his helmet before pushing the kickstand up and walking the bike out of the garage.
“Don’t. I love you,” I blurt out, putting on the helmet. My stomach drops. “I mean, I love it. I love it.” My voice is trembling.
Without saying anything, he reaches out and adjusts the straps under my chin, making sure the helmet is secured. He beams at me. “Thanks.” He swings his leg over the seat, and turns the monster on. The sound of the engine rumbles through my body.
“What are you waiting for?” he yells over the sound, motioning to the space on the bike behind him.
Raising one eyebrow, I grab his shoulder and he tenses under my touch as I swing my leg over and sit right behind him. He cracks his neck and waits. I don’t know what to do with my hands.
“Put your arms around my waist, Al,” he says over the roar. Turning around, he grabs my hands before draping them around his middle. I love that he called me Al.
Holding him tight I lock my fingers over Rone’s stomach, the ripped muscles strain against his shirt while I trail my thumb over his abs. The heat of his butt against my front has the place between my legs throbbing, and I gasp at the vibrations of the bike.
He looks back while I hold onto him. “You okay?” he yells, revving the engine.
I nod, biting on my lip, feeling myself shiver at having him this close to me. He shifts in his seat and I love the friction.
“Hold on!” he shouts, before speeding away down the driveway and making his way onto the 101.
The wind beats against my helmet. The rumble and the vibrations of the bike make me tremble. It feels like every nerve ending is ready to explode and I smile, holding him tighter as he easily maneuvers through traffic.
I breathe in deeply, loving the way he knows what to do, and the smell of leather and bike mixed with him. I let him go with one hand and allow the wind to move through my fingers. I know he is smiling by the way his body relaxes when I hug him again. He places his left hand over mine and pinches before grabbing the handlebars once more.
Something moves through me while I hold him, taking in the scenery, the ocean on my left, and all the cars we pass. He turns, and after a while we are riding alone as the sun slowly sets in the distance. The colors of red, yellow, and purple take my breath away.
He pulls onto an empty stretch of land and kills the engine, flipping the kickstand out with the heel of his boot. I’m trembling a little from all I’ve just experienced. Rone takes off his helmet, his dark hair a mess. He brushes a hand through his strands and smiles back at me. His lips twitch into that sexy, crooked smirk that I’m dying to see again.
“That was amazing.” My smile is probably a mile wide.
“Glad you liked it. Do you need help getting off?” he says, grinning.
Swallowing hard my face heats, I bite on the inside of my cheek trying to get my racing heart from bursting out of my chest. “No I’m okay,” I tell him, swinging my leg over before standing. I sway a little.
He reaches out and steadies me. “Need help with the helmet?” he asks, still straddling the bike.
Trying to open the straps around my chin, my fingers tremble. He reaches out and clicks them open, and I pull the helmet over my head. Getting off the bike, Rone laughs gazing from my eyes to my mouth with a shy look.
I wet my lips and he swallows hard.
“It’s beautiful here,” I whisper, breaking the spell. I give him my helmet and he places it with his on the handlebars.
He nods, the wind moving through his hair. “I come here a lot to watch the sunset and listen to the waves breaking on the rocks below, thinking up song lyrics.”
I take in the view, the cool breeze touches my face and I shiver. I breathe in deeply, watching him take a seat on the rocks and stretching his legs out in front of him. I sit next to him, and he says, “The bike takes some getting used to with the motions and all.”
“I felt it everywhere,” I answer, chuckling at my own joke.
He gives me a reassuring grin, and my palms start to sweat. Turning my face away, I focus on his bike, and pray he doesn’t see me blush.
