AllFreeNovel
Share Us
If this particular bronco bucks you off, you’ll be nothing but a smear on the pavement.
I saunter over to the bike, running my fingertip lightly down the frame.
Adrik watches me, hands in his pockets, chin upraised.
I throw him a flirtatious look. “You’re not worried someone’s gonna see this gorgeous, gleaming piece of machinery glowing in the moonlight, and feel an irresistible urge to swing her leg over the seat?”
I do exactly that, straddling the plush leather of the bike, skirt riding all the way up on my thighs.
Tossing my hair back over my shoulder, I settle my hips in place on the seat, leaning forward, arching my back, really letting him see how much I’m enjoying mounting this monster.
Adrik knows exactly what I’m doing. He can’t keep the grin off his face. He loves that I’m shameless.
“You like the way that feels?” he growls.
“Almost,” I say, leaning forward and twisting the keys.
The engine roars to life, instantly awake, instantly warming.
“Ahhh,” I sigh. “Much better.”
The vibration drums through my bones. I press against it until every cell in my body thrums at the same frequency. I’m perfectly in tune, a note suspended in the air.
I sit up, silhouetted against the sky. Fully aware of how stunning I look to Adrik in this moment—a prize he’ll do anything to obtain.
I twist the throttle, revving the engine. Smiling at him over my shoulder.
He starts to grin back, so happy he could die.
Until dawning horror wipes the smirk off his face.
I haven’t squeezed the clutch yet—haven’t even begun to make my move. But Adrik knows exactly what I’m about to do.
He takes a step forward, his expression dark enough to stop a coward’s heart dead in their chest.
Low and savage he whispers, “Sabrina …don’t you fucking do it.”
I don’t even hesitate.
I pull in the clutch and put the bike into gear.
Exhaust fills my mouth, coating my tongue.
I’m tasting it now.
I want it.
I fuckingneedit.
Still, I know better than to roar off like Evil Knieval. I just threw a rope around the neck of a stampeding bull—no need to apply the cattle prod.
Gently, I let out the clutch, easing down the accelerator at half the speed I would usually use.
The engine responds like I blew in a gust of pure octane. The asphalt beneath the back tire seems to melt away into black glass as the wheel fishtails, slick and frictionless. I’m not heavy enough, I’m not holding it down.
I drop my ass as low as I can to counterbalance, the bike surging forward with shocking speed, an animal released from its pen. I thought it would run—it’s already at a gallop.
Adrik is sprinting toward me, much too late. The bike tears out of the lot, almost flattening a uniformed valet who has to leap into the bushes to save his skin.
