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“Don’t worry. I’ve got you. Just remember to lean with me in the corners.”
A speed limit sign blurred passed. She could see the bike’s dashboard over his shoulder and noticed he was travelling a few kilometres slower than what was posted. She appreciated that he was doing what he could to make her feel safe but hated to dampen his own enjoyment.
“You can go faster if you want.” Her helmet bumped his as she spoke near his ear.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Penta Unleashed, remember?”
His laughter rumbled, vibrating against her chest, and he twisted the throttle.
Chapter Twelve
While they were on the main highway, Cash kept strictly to the speed limit. Once they were on a secondary road that followed the railway line heading east, he gradually increased the speed until Penta wondered if they’d take flight.
She balanced on the razorback divide between terror and elation. Adrenaline flooded her nerves and her breath panted raggedly from her lungs. A particularly sharp corner had him leaning the monster bike so far over she was sure his knee scraped the road’s rough surface. She fought the instinct to remain vertical and leaned with him, helmeted head heavy and unwieldy, eyes closed to avoid the sight of impending death.
When they came out of the corner unscathed and were once more upright, she pried open her eyelids and lifted her chin. An isolated farmhouse flashed by, followed by an undulating ribbon of sagging barbed wire held up by crooked fence posts. A long straight stretch disappeared into the distance and she braced for speed. Instead, their momentum slowed and Cash pulled off the road onto a narrow drive barricaded by a metal gate.
Balancing the bike with his feet planted on the gravel, he removed his helmet. Penta realized she was still fastened to him like duct tape and hurriedly retracted her arms and straightened her spine.
He shifted in his seat without disturbing the bike’s equilibrium, twisting to look at her. “How are you doing?” His eyes glinted, polished silver in the afternoon sun.
Her fingers trembling with exhilaration, she had only one answer. “I’m alive.”
His forehead creased. “You should have told me to slow down.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She scrambled to explain. “I feel alive. Not just existing, but alive. The world is brighter and louder and I can hear my body. My pulse, my breath, my nerve endings. It’s amazing.”
His expression lightened. “That’s how I feel too.”
Though she’d released him from her death grip, her thighs still bracketed his hips and her breasts brushed his back when she inhaled. As if realizing the same thing at the same time, Cash’s eyes darkened to pewter. She fell into his starlit stare, connected not just physically but by shared experiences, shared emotions.
Her gaze dropped to his lips, framed by his thick but neatly trimmed beard. For an infinitesimal moment, she considered leaning in for a taste. She’d avoided thinking of the brief kiss he’d given her outside the pub for days now. He hadn’t meant anything by it other than thanks, and their fake relationship didn’t extend to physical caresses.
With a tiny gasp, she tore her thoughts away from such dangerous pathways. “Is it time to go back, then?” She didn’t want their ride to be done, but she also didn’t want to wear out her welcome.
“We can if you want.” Cash stroked his beard with one gloved hand in a gesture she’d begun to suspect indicated nervousness. “But there’s something I’d like to show you. If you want.”
She scanned the area. Behind her, a huge field green with new grass stretched emptily to low, rolling foothills, mountains blue in the distance. The road was deserted—they’d only seen two other vehicles since leaving the main highway, both heading the opposite direction—and on the other side of the gate, the lane vanished into a thicket of trees. “What is it?”
He unzipped the chest pocket of his leather jacket and fished out a key ring. “It’s through there.” He pointed to the metal bars. “Do you trust me?”
CASH’S HEART THUDDED heavily, and not just from the sexual tension permeating his body. Yes, having Penta’s softness pressed against him, swaying with his, matching the movements of his bike during the ride, had ignited a core-deep glow that hadn’t faded. But more than that, he wanted to give her a gift that revealed exactly how much the words she’d written in his first ever Father’s Day card meant to him.
If she said yes, he’d be disclosing something very few people knew, sharing a part of himself that was raw and painful even after years of healing.
He very badly wanted her to say yes.
“Of course I trust you.” The corners of her eyes wrinkled in a wry expression. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Good.” He pressed a fist against his breastbone in a pathetic attempt to dislodge the sensation wedged there, then replaced his helmet, leaving it unbuckled. “Good. Let me open the gate.”
“I’ll do it.” She plucked the fob from his fingers and wriggled off the seat. He closed his eyes against the onslaught of breast and belly. “Which key is it?”
He pointed it out, breathing deeply to control his inappropriate urges. She deftly opened the padlock and dragged half the gate to the side. After he drove the bike through in first gear, she swung it closed and locked it again. Having her squirm into place behind him was another moment of sweet torture, but she felt right seated on the two-up in ways he didn’t want to examine.
The gravel lane was pocked with holes large enough to catch a tire and he steered carefully around them. Penta’s weight shifted lightly as she swung her head from side to side.
