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“You’re the first chick,” I say.
She gives me a look.
“The first woman I’ve met who can throw a punch, and take it as well,” I state, staring at the waves crashing on the beach. Licking my bottom lip I turn my attention back to her. Sky’s eyes go big, and I burst out laughing. “Fuck, I didn’t mean it literally, babe.”
She hesitates a moment, “I get what you mean, but I’m not as strong as you think I am,” she says, her voice cracking. Her eyes roam across my body. “Under all your ink, you really have a big heart, don’t you?”
Growling, I run my tongue over my teeth. “Depends on who you’re talking to.”
She holds my stare, but is the first one to turn away.
I glance around the beach. We are all alone. The sun is finally setting. With shaking hands, she pulls her black sweater over her head. I can’t help but stare at her breasts while she does it. They’re fucking perfect, damn what I would give to feel them pressing against the palm of my hand. Her hard nipple teasing my rough skin. My dick twitches and I have to adjust myself. I’m such a pervert, stealing glances at her body. The girl is breathtaking and she doesn’t even know it.
“Are you cold?” I ask, draping my leather jacket over her shoulders.
“A little,” she says putting it on. A piece of paper falls between us in the sand, I pick it up and read it. It’s a prescription for legal marijuana. Why the fuck is she smoking?
“Long day?” I ask, nodding to her shaking hands.
I hand it back to her and she folds it, pushing the paper into the pocket of her dress. “Something like that.”
“What is going on?”
“Nothing concerning you,” she says averting my gaze.
“I get it’s none of my business, but…”
“No, it isn’t. Can we talk about something else, have you been riding today?” she asks, changing the subject, guilt sliding across her face.
“Yeah, working on the bikes and driving around.” Our eyes meet and I can’t help but smile. “I thought you didn’t care what the fuck I did all day. Most girls don’t anyway.”
“I’m not most girls, and you forget I grew up around this life.” Her eyes roam to my mouth then up to my cheekbone and the cut there. “What happened to your face?” She reaches out but quickly pulls her hand back.
I crack my neck. “I’m not made of sugar, I can take a beating. Been doing this all my life.”
From the corner of her eye, she watches me, like she doesn’t believe what I’m telling her. “What happened?”
“I was doing this thing where you angle the bike so you get more grip when you’re going around the bend,” I say, explaining it to her by using my hands.
She turns to me, a big question mark reflected on her face.
“You don’t want to hear about this,” I say, looking away.
She lays a hand on my arm, and the warmth of her touch goes right through my shirt. We stare at each other. “Tell me,” she says, her voice soft.
“I fucked up and I crashed. Happy now?” I grunt. She laughs.
“Shut up,” I say, the corners of my lips hiking up.
“When is your next race?” Her eyes are tender like her voice.
“In a couple weeks.”
The wind picks up, and I close my eyes for a second. “I need to be at my best. It’s the last race of this season before we have eight weeks off, and it really starts to count.”
“Jay must be pushing you hard?”
“Yeah. If I want to keep being number one, he needs to.” I flick open my lighter and grab a cigarette and talk around it, before I inhale deep. She eyes it.
