“Never been on a motorcycle? That should be a crime.”
I held his hand as we walked the short distance to his Harley, our fingers intertwined. When we reached the bike, I was surprised by how tall it was. It didn’t look so high up from further away. I was average height, but I wouldn’t even be able to skim the ground with my toes if I sat on it.
Trainer grabbed a hold of the handlebars and raised the kickstand before swinging one leg over the side. When both of his feet were flat on either side of the machine, he turned to look at me.
“Put this on.” Taking his helmet off of the seat behind him, Trainer handed it over. I could tell already that it was going to be too big.
“It won’t fit.”
“I know, but it’s better than nothing. I’ll get you your own for the future.”
The future. It should probably scare me that he was making plans like that, considering my situation. I might have to run away again at a moment’s notice. But I didn’t feel scared at his words. A glimmer of hope sparked within my heart, and I shoved the helmet onto my head, tightening the strap as much as possible. It was still a little loose, but not too bad. I wanted to protest his lack of head protection, but I had a feeling it would fall on deaf ears. There was no way that a man like Trainer would allow me to go without a helmet so that he could have one.
Reaching up, I held onto his shoulders and placed my foot on the passenger footrest before hoisting my body off the ground and onto the motorcycle. Settling into the seat behind him, I felt my core clench as my thighs had to spread wide to fit on each side of his body. My chest was pressed against his back as I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around his waist.
Trainer fired up the bike, the growl of the engine making me jump. I settled down quickly, resting my head against his shoulder blade. When he pulled out of the parking lot, he turned left, passing by the front of the library just as Dave emerged with his daughter. We made eye contact, and I smiled as his jaw dropped.
Then, Trainer shifted gears, and we were gone.
Nine
Trainer
I didn’t usually ride with people on the back of my bike. It wasn’t a hard rule, but riding with a passenger changed the balancing and made me responsible for someone else’s safety. I wasn’t a big fan of either of those things.
But I didn’t think I could deny Erica anything. The more time I spent with her, the more I could see glimpses of vulnerability beneath the surface that made me want to take care of her. So, if she wanted to experience the thrill of a ride, I’d give it to her.
I noticed right away that turning made her nervous. Her entire body stiffened up behind me when I leaned into a turn, and her arms tightened to the point of almost hurting. Not wanting to make this a nerve-wracking experience for her, I headed to western La Playa. There was a straight stretch of road that ran along the beach. It was a bit boring for riding, with no twists or turns, but I thought she might enjoy the view.
The sun shone brightly off the sand, making me thankful for my sunglasses. I felt Erica relax against me, even her arms loosened their death-grip, moving lower on my abdomen. An erotic excitement sparked, and I wanted her touch on my bare skin, moving lower and lower until she gripped my throbbing erection.
Okay, time to take a break.
We’d been driving for almost an hour anyway. It would be good to stretch our legs. I pulled over as we came upon the boardwalk. It was the most popular tourist attraction in La Playa with a Ferris wheel, carnival-style games, a family pavilion, and a stage where bands often performed on the weekend evenings.
The place was crawling with people, so I made sure that Erica stayed close to my side as we walked along the wooden planks.
“I had no idea this was here,” she commented, her gaze on the ocean. “Do you come here often?”
“Nah, it’s usually too crowded for me, too many tourists.”
“I kind of like it.”
“I thought you might.”
We passed a caricaturist drawing three sisters as they posed with their heads pressed together and a little boy with his dad flying a drone over all our heads. Finally, I spotted a pretzel cart ahead.
“In the mood for lunch?” I asked, pointing it out to her. It was no gourmet meal, but I thought it was best to keep things real with her. I was never going to be a fine-dining kind of guy.
Erica didn’t mind. She pulled me over to the cart, taking her time picking out the “perfect pretzel.”
I wasn’t aware that such a thing existed, but she was almost scientific about it. Apparently, the amount and distribution of salt really mattered in these decisions. Me? I just pointed to the first one I saw and asked for extra cheese sauce.
“I think that thing is bigger than your head,” I told Erica as we took a seat at a small, metal cafe-style table nearby.
“The bigger, the better,” she said. Her eyes widened as the words left her mouth, and she glanced down at my lap. My erection twitched, as if begging for more of her attention. She bit her lip, and I groaned.
“Don’t do that,” I said, reaching out to gently tug her lip out from between her teeth. “Not here.”
