He removes his leather jacket and drapes it around my shoulders, tucking my scarf inside. His jacket covers my wool coat easily, and I slip my arms into the sleeves as he draws the zipper up.
I’m only given a second to appreciate the warmth before he seizes my waist and effortlessly lifts me, placing me on the seat. Keeping his gaze on my parted legs, he skims his gloved hands down my hips. His descent doesn’t stop until he reaches my knees, where he inches my skirt hem up painfully slow, causing my breath to stall as he pushes the material to the middle of my thighs.
“Damn, not sure how I’m supposed to keep my eyes on the road.”
Emboldened, I inch my skirt even higher and swing my leg over the seat. “Just don’t look back.”
An ache sinks deep in my core at the way he watches me shift forward on the cushioned leather, my skirt barely covering my slip of panties until I bring the length of my coat closure forward.
He drags a hand over his jaw. Mutters something unintelligible as he shamelessly reaches down to adjust the bulge in his black slacks. A tender pinch tightens in my sex at the sight.
“Hands back here.” Orion instructs me to grab hold of the metal brace behind the seat. As he mounts the bike, I have to bite my bottom lip to stifle the sound that wants to escape at the heavy feel of him settling between my thighs.
A fiery current arcs over my skin, urging me to wrap my arms around his waist. Between the oversized jacket and his body heat, I’m burning up.
The engine rumbles to life, and any reservations over how dangerous this is fall silent beneath the roaring growl.
“Shit,” I whisper. I swear, he changed some chemistry in my brain, because the vibration immediately makes my thighs clench. Through his dress shirt, I feel his abs tense beneath my palms.
“Hold on,” he calls over the sound of the engine. “And, Collins, do not drop those hands.”
A shot of liquid fire courses through my veins at the suggestion. Forced to rest the helmet against his shoulder blade, I tighten my hold around him, feeling every cut flex of his abdominal muscles when the bike takes off.
Cruising at a steady speed, Orion circles the university, then steers onto the main street of the downtown area. All the decorative effort that has already gone into preparing for the upcoming symposium solidifies into a heavy mass in my chest with the unwanted reminder of time.
As Orion turns down a narrow street, he reaches back and clasps my thigh, holding me secure and igniting a flurry of heat low in my belly.
Once we clear the town limits, all thoughts of looming eclipses and victims are forgotten as Orion picks up speed. Wind whips past, making me grateful I wore my knee-high boots that help guard against the chill. For the first time since I drew new breath, I’m present in the moment, unconcerned about the destination.
Soon, we’re winding down a coastal road, the brisk wind streaming around our bodies as the view of the ocean unfolds alongside us. At sunset, it’s beautiful. Silver clouds dust the sky in a soft, hazy glow above the mist, hued in vibrant pinks and oranges. The distant edges fade to a deep blue over the stretch of endless waves.
Orion accelerates, and the jolting speed of the bike stirs my blood with a hit of adrenaline, thrilling, intoxicating.
Euphoric.
I flatten my hand over his chest, absorbing the thundering rhythm of his heart as it crashes against my palm. He releases one of the handles to bring his gloved hand to mine, covering it and holding it there before he gives it a strong pulse, urging me to hold tighter.
The road ahead curves around a high bluff. We follow along the narrow stretch, the climbing rock face rising high on one side, the ocean on the other. Adrenaline burns through the chambers of my heart, and I can no longer feel the bite of wind, the cold air?—
My own heartbeat.
The sudden realization sends a tremor of alarm through me, and I strain to feel the struggling pulse that’s become the tempo of my life. Only the faster Orion pushes the bike, the less I’m able to think of anything other than the way his thumb soothingly traces my inner wrist, softly tapping a beat against my pulse point.
Before long, he returns his hand to the clutch, downshifting smoothly as he veers onto a stretch of sandy trail leading through dune grass and rocks. He eases the throttle, slowing enough to maneuver over the loose sand.
For a brief moment, the muffled sound of my breathing inside the helmet pulls me into another space—one thick with the scent of overturned dirt and suffocating vinyl. Anxiety claws up my chest, claustrophobia pressing in from all sides. I’m desperate to lift the visor, to drag in a lungful of fresh air.
As if sensing my unease, Orion guns the engine, driving the panic from my mind. He coasts across the damp sand, easing us closer to the water, chasing the shoreline across the unbroken stretch of beach.
This time, when he grasps my thigh, it has nothing to do with safety. His thumb drags slowly back and forth, sparking a blazing path along my skin. The firm press of him between my thighs, coupled with the vibration, sends a hot flush of arousal through me.
I’m not sure at what point my hand drifts down, but the moment I graze his erection straining against his pants, an intense ache pulses low. Daringly, I explore further, moving below his belt. His stomach muscles tense, and the motorcycle jerks slightly before he regains control.
Something reckless and heady thrums through my veins, and I boldly press the heel of my palm to the hard length of him. His hips shift upward in response, and that one movement is so damn erotic, my thighs squeeze against his legs.
He downshifts abruptly, and my heart stutters with the lurch of the bike. Then we’re slowing, coming to a stop. His sharp inhale expands his back, igniting friction along the length of my front.
Dropping his feet to the packed sand, he revs the engine hard, digging the back tire down and anchoring the bike in place. He kills the engine, and the sudden silence rings in my ears, followed by the hollow, rhythmic crash of waves.
