Page 151 of Tease Me


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Bou asked, “Did I do her justice?”

Awed by her talent and the work she’d done in the restoration job, I answered, “Like she’s never been down.”

Bou grinned and pulled a cover off another bike. My brows shot up, and my fingers twitched, wanting to touch the beauty revealed. A fucking Indian Chieftan with a custom two-toned matte that faded from orange at the top to a red so deep it almost turned black. It looked like the fucking sunrise over the Arizona desert I’d been watching from her window twenty minutes before.

Bou stood with her hands crossed over her chest, smugly watching me as my eyes roamed over that amazing machine. With her wrap-around sunglasses in place, she straddled the seat and pushed the ride backward out of the shed. The engine fired up, a powerful roar fading into a seductive purr. Bou looked at me, her brows arching over the rims of the glasses.

“The fuck? No. I’m not riding bitch.”

She dropped the sunglasses so that her eyes dared me over the tops of the frames. Slowly, those eyes lowered from my face, down my torso, and paused before they continued down my leg to the cast. Then, they retraced their path in reverse until she was looking me square in the eye.

“Did you just un-fucking-dress me?”

“I did,” she said, flashing the devil’s smile. “The way I see it, you don’t have a choice if you wanna come.”

“Ho-ly shit.” My cock twitched behind my button-fly. Did she really say that? I squinted at her, turning my head slightly so I looked at her sideways. Better yet, did she realize what she said?

The tip of Bou’s pink little tongue darted out over her lips, and she arched a dark brow in question. “Is that a yes?”

I guessed it fucking was, since I closed the door to Betty and popped on my own glasses before straddling the seat behind her with my casted foot on the bitch-peg. My good foot, I stretched forward so that it cradled her leg and my boot rested beside hers on the running board.

“Are you sure you can ride with the extra weight?” I slid my arms around her and pressed my body against hers. Maybe riding bitch had its uses after all. My cock responded with another happy dance.

She revved the engine and called loudly over it. “I learned to ride a motorcycle before I learned to drive a car. I fucking got this.”

She rolled the throttle.

Dust kicked up behind us, and I leaned with her as we turned onto the highway. This was a second to working my own ride, but it was far better because I had Bou sitting between my legs, and she was a fucking goddess on the machine. The wind in my face was an old and welcome friend as we sped north then turned west on a small road heading into the mountains. Dipping into the curves gave me the sense of freedom I’d missed; That I was doing it with Bou made it all the goddamn better.

23

Bou

A little more than a week past being raped, I should have been leery of men—Wilde included. But I wasn’t. I craved him near me. As I leaned into another turn and his strong arms tightened around me, I experienced the best fucking high possible.

Wilde had been around, so close yet so far away, for a couple of weeks. I couldn’t deny how I kept reimagining his searing kiss. The temptation of his rippling muscles and those strong lips kept growing, despite having been used and split open like I was. I wanted to focus on him rather than Luke. I needed something to balance out the bad. I couldn’t say Wilde balanced it with good. He squeezed tighter around my waist. Oh, definitely not. He was like balancing bad with more bad, because the man riding behind me was nothing but pure, unadulterated sin.

The fact that I’d woken with his arms like a vice grip around me, as if he could contain the horror, that he’d just held me while I worked out the remaining terror, well . . . hell, that alone put me almost over the edge. Then when he’d let go, I wanted to ask him to hold me longer. My fingers had twitched with an urge to grab him right there and pull him down on top of me. I hadn’t, but maybe I should have. The idea for this bike ride popped into my head as he was about to leave my room. I wanted him to hold me, to touch me, but I didn’t know how to ask him. He’d been so tender with me, tiptoeing around me for a week and it was driving me insane. Something had to give, so in a fit of panic, watching him stride out of my room, I’d come up with this bike ride idea. And what a fucking brilliant idea. Here, he had no choice but to cling onto me the way I wanted to cling to him. There was no tiptoeing around with over thirteen hundred pounds of pure fucking metal singing between your legs.

The trees thickened as we leaned into curve after curve on the windy road up to the lookout. Needing to clear my mind, I had been planning to ride up anyway. Having Wilde join me, well, I’d asked on impulse. But holy-fucking-hell, we rode well together. The thoughts I’d been thinking as I teased him into getting on the back of my bike had been crazy, but I was so damp from our little exchange.

I inhaled the cool, crisp mountain air and made the final turn to the lookout. When we arrived, I cut the engine and kicked down the stand. I couldn’t reconcile bringing a man I barely knew to my favorite place in the world, here, but it felt right. He felt right. We felt right.

“Up there.” I tilted my head toward the boulder up a small hill where I normally sat to watch the sun crest the horizon. “We’re a little late. I normally ride up before dawn.”

Wilde put his good leg down and swung the cast over the back side of my bike. He limped up the slope between a couple of trees and stood beside the landmark looking over the edge. I watched him, imagining how amazing he’d look walking away without that cast. His legs were slightly bowed, and holy fuck, I loved the way that made a man’s ass look in boots and denim.

I reached into the saddle bag, palmed a blanket, and followed him. I dropped the blanket beside a tree and licked my lips. He stood looking over the desert with his hands in his pockets. I moved close to him, just behind and to his side. Our bodies were so close my chin almost touched his shoulder.

I waited.

He turned to face me, trying to back away, but I’d put myself in a position where he couldn’t get away without pushing past me. His bright eyes shone in contrast with his beard and his furrowed dark brows.

He let out a low breath when he said, “What are you doing, Bou?”

“Showing you the best goddamn view in Arizona.” Yeah, I was being coy, and I hoped to hell that it worked out in my favor.

Wilde looked down my body, his voice a little hoarse when he said, “It’s pretty fucking great.” With those heated eyes, he certainly didn’t mean the desert.

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