“Are you coming?” He raises an eyebrow, biting back another cocky grin.
“Yep. I was born ready for this.”
“Okay.” He turns away, curling his leg over the seat, securing himself in position, then pats the space behind him. “Final rule. Don’t let go.”
Before I have the chance to respond, he covers his face with the visor and grabs the handlebars, revving the engine.
Conversation over. While I still haveno ideawhere we’re going.
The sun blazes as I secure the helmet over my head and lower the visor, instantly regretting my makeup. I’m going to be a sweaty mess by the time we stop, and while I know I’m hot, it’s harder to make him regret his actions when I have mascara running down my face.
Laughing it off, I stride toward him and follow his move, lifting my leg over the seat, sliding on behind him. The vibrations make me giddy again, but when I lightly grip his waist, his body shakes and his powerful palms curl around my thighs as he forcefully yanks me into him. I gasp as my crotch slams into his back, and that gasp turns to a silent moan when he grabs my hands, wrapping them more tightly around him, locking them against his chest.
If my panties weren’t wet before, they are now. Because… this man.Jesus.
Mason kicks off the stand, and the next thing I know, we’re flying. Not literally, but my God, it feels that way. I’ve been on a motorcycle, but I was a kid and it was my next-door neighbor’s paddock Honda. This is nothing like that.
It’s like sin.
I’m not sure how much time passes as we cruise around in silence, the wind in my hair, my heart racing in excitement. I could spend hours like this, if my muscles weren’t tense from clenching Mason’s rock-hard abs and my ass wasn’t vibrating so hard that it hurts.
We’re in the middle of a residential street when Mason slows to a stop and lifts his visor, squeezing my thigh as he glances over his shoulder. “Can you jump off for a minute? I’ve got to grab something from under the seat.”
My leg tingles when he releases me but I lift my visor, managing a “sure” before flipping my leg over the bike, groaning when the pain in my ass intensifies. “Is this where your job is?” I ask, shoving my hands in my pockets and leaning back on my heels, checking out the houses surrounding us.
Is he some kind of tradesman? A male stripper, maybe?God, I’m funny.If only he wasn’t so touchy, I could ask him.
“Nope. But we're close.” Mason takes off his helmet, drawing my attention away from those thoughts and I follow suit, removing my own.
“Are we walking?” I grimace, and laughter rumbles out of him. It’s the second time I’ve heard him laugh, and I can’t deny that I love the sound.
“You don’t like being kept in the dark, do you?” His penetrating gaze bores into mine and I swallow my lust.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether or not I trust someone.”
Mason visibly winces but covers it with a quirk of his brow. “You don’t trust me?”
“Definitely not. You haven’t really given me reason to.”
“I got you here safely.”
“True. I’ll give you credit for that. But I’d feel more comfortable if you told me what the job was.”
He nods, a nervous expression washing over him that’s so fleeting, it’s possible I imagined it. “Okay. I can do that. Close your eyes. You’re going to need something first.”
“What?” I laugh incredulously. “Not a chance. Didn’t wejustestablish I don’t trust you?”
“We did, but now I’m asking you to try. Or you could wait here until I’m done.” He shrugs and I curse under my breath.
“Fine.” I huff and do as he asked, closing my eyes. “You better not be a criminal.”
“Jenna. Jenna. Jenna. Are you stereotyping me because I own a Harley?” Mock disgust oozes from his words, and I poke out my tongue like a disobedient child.
“Hurry up,” I gripe. That’s not exactly where my mind, went but it’s certainly less incriminating on my part.
