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“That’s not making me feel better about going on a ride with you.”
He huffs. “Put the helmet on. You’re safe with me.”
For some reason, I believe him. There’s no reason to, as he’s done nothing to instill any sort of confidence. But still, this yearning need to be close to him persists, and I can’t ignore it.
After placing the helmet on my head, I stand awkwardly, waiting for further instructions. He swings a leg over the bike, his thick thighs bracing it as he puts up the kickstand. Motioning for me to climb on, I try to look as smooth as he did but fail, nearly taking us both down.
“Keep your feet on those pegs and hang on tight,” he says before bringing the engine to life.
Tentatively, I wrap my arms around his waist and am met with hard muscle. My cock stirs back to life until he takes off, and I nearly fly off the back. I hold on tighter, more concerned with dying than his rippled abs. Though having my life end on the back of a motorcycle sounds better than dying from a broken mind, the way Dad will.
Once we’re on the highway, I relax and take in the scenery. Some people don’t find the desert an attractive landscape but not me. Despite the warm temperatures today, there’s still snow on the mountains surrounding us and a cloudless sky above us. It’s perfect.
And I’m sharing it all with the least likely of partners.
Guilt hits me that I was so cruel to him for so many years. Immaturity, paired with knowing that I could never be with someone I found myself drawn to, made for an ugly storm. Dad would’ve lost his mind if I brought Mike home in his second or third-hand ill-fitting clothes and long hair. He didn’t care about me being gay but dating beneath my class? That was not allowed.
I deserve all of Mike’s anger and more. I hope he can see past it someday because I can’t imagine feeling this same lustful passion for anyone else.
He turns off the highway and slows as he drives through a neighborhood I’ve never been in. The road opens to a park, where he pulls into a spot and stops the bike. Guessing this is our destination, I climb off and remove the helmet.
Mike grins as he gets off the bike. “Come here.”
“What?”
“Your hair.” His fingers comb through my normally neatly styled locks.
“The helmet,” I say dumbly.
“Yeah, that’s why I don’t even bother with a style. I let the helmet decide how it wants me to look.”
Once he’s done his grooming, I look around. “What are we doing here?”
“Thought it would be a more private place to talk.”
We walk side by side on a path that surrounds the park. Since it’s the middle of a workday, the place is all but abandoned except for a toddler on the jungle gym and their mom.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I got to thinking while we were riding.” He scratches his scruff, an apprehensive look on his face.
“What?”
“Need you to promise me you’ll stay calm.”
My stomach sinks. I overheard the entire conversation with his mom, and though I didn’t enjoy hearing it, nothing about it would cause me to freak out.
“What?”
“Promise?”
“Yeah. I promise. Spit it out.”
“If my mom got pregnant with me by a revenge fuck around the same time she was sleeping with your dad, how does she know who my biological father is?”
I chuckle at the absurdity. Until I realize the implication. My face falls, and for the second time today, the air leaves my lungs.
Did I just let my half-brother suck my dick?
