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At this point, I should probably look for a towel to wipe my chin.
“You getting on?” he asks.
“Uh, yeah.”How do I mount this thing again?It seems so much bigger than anything I’ve been on before.
“Put your hand on my shoulder,” Dex instructs.
As if I’m moving too slowly for him, he reaches for my hand, guiding it to his shoulder.
I lightly rest my palm against the leather of his vest.
“Harder than that, little firecracker. I won’t break,” he encourages.
“That’s for sure. You’re sturdy. Like a tree.”Come on. You can do this.I grip him tighter and toss my leg over.
“Watch the pipes,” Dex warns.
“Okay.”
He reaches back, grabbing my calf. I dig my fingers into his shoulders.
“Relax. I’ve got you.” He runs his hand over my sneakers. “Wish these had a heel or something. They might slip off the pegs, so hold tight.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“Hold tight,” he repeats. “Lean when I lean. Okay?”
“Got it.” I give him directions to where I work. He nods as if he knows the place.
The engine roars to life. A deep, throaty rumble. So much louder than I’d expected. I cling harder to Dex’s shoulders.
He reaches for one of my hands, sliding it down to his waist. “Ready?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He opens the throttle and we take off, bumping over the gravel at a slow speed that must make it difficult for Dex to control the bike, but he makes it seem effortless.
When we reach the highway, we shoot forward. I shriek and wrap my arms tighter, cinching his waist like a human belt.
“Is this okay?” I shout. What if I’m squeezing so hard he can’t breathe?
“You feel good,” he says, a shade louder than the engine. At least that’s what it sounds like.
My heart races as he increases the speed. The cool morning air whips against my hands, and I tuck them under Dex’s shirt.
Mistake.
He’s hard everywhere. Not just his strong shoulders.
Do not molest the operator of the vehicle moving at sixty-five miles an hour.
After a while of steady riding, the tension running through my body uncoils. I loosen my death grip on Dex and carefully shift my body back. A rush of euphoria races over me. Freedom and an odd sense ofpeace. Everything seems so alive and close—like I could reach out and grab a handful of wildflowers on the side of the road if I wasn’t afraid I’d plummet to my death.
The vibrating beast between my thighs intensifies the swoony sensation I’ve been dealing with from being around Dex. Except it’s stronger than a swoon and heading south fast.
Oh, no. Now isn’t the time.
Work. Focus on work.Reports are due at the end of the month. I’ll be slammed with testing and sending results. Chemicals. I need to call and order chemicals today.
