“I’m sure.”
More than sure.
The thought of her somewhere, I know she’s safe, makes something protective curl in my chest.
“When can I see it?”
“How about now?”
“Did you bring your bike?” The hopeful tone in her voice makes me inwardly chuckle.
I gesture over my shoulder to the Harley glistening in the springtime sun. “You know it.”
She waggles her brows and stands. “Then let’s ride.”
I start walking with her. “We’ll have you wearing leather in no time.”
She grins up at me as we reach my bike. I hand her a helmet, lean down to do up the strap as her big doe eyes look up at me, and then I smirk as I move in to sit on my ride. She slides in behind me, her skirt riding up those gorgeous legs, and I start the engine. “You ready, Small Town?”
“Fuck yeah, City Boy, don’t hold back this time. Show me what your bike can really do!”
Shit! I just got fucking hard.
Subtly rearranging my cock, I then rev my engine and hammer down, taking off at breakneck speed. Her hands grip around my waist as she lets out a wild scream behind me—the sound like music to my ears.
I speed, weaving in and out of Vegas traffic, not caring about road rules or traffic lights. Marley wanted a biker, and I am giving her the whole experience.
Eventually, though, we end up at my apartment downtown, and as I pull up in the parking lot, killing the engine, Marley leaps off the bike, jumping around like a kid that’s had far too much candy.
“Oh my God, oh my God!That was the best thing I haveeverdone in my life.” She yanks off her helmet, thrusting it in my hands when I slide off the bike as she continues bouncing from foot to foot in her manic state.
The sight is something to behold.
Her hair is a wild, untamed mess.
Her face flushes red from the turbulent wind.
Her body moves around as if she’s a teenager at a rave concert.
This woman is fucking perfect.
I lean back against my bike, holding her helmet, and watch her in all her glory with the biggest smirk on my face until she is done. She stops, spins, looks at me, and then instantly panics.
“Shit!” She begins pulling at her shirt, which has been riding up, showing her belly. “I must look like a fucking giant whale doing Zumba. I’msosorry you had to see that.”
With lightning speed, I place the helmet on the bike and take two enormous strides toward her, my hands reaching out and grabbing her hips, pulling her to me. My thumbs graze right where her shirt had been riding up moments earlier. Her breath catches as I look directly into her eyes, making sure she hears me when I tell her this. “These curves, this beautiful body you’re trying to hide, Marley… don’teverfeel ashamed for showing it off, or for having fun in the moment. Just then… watching you, I’ve never seen you more stunning. I’m in awe of you, Marley Wren. Every day. All the fucking time.”
She swallows a lump down her throat, my thumbs still grazing the skin on her hips. I lean in briefly, the urge to kiss her so fucking overwhelming.
But then I remember that she doesn’t want that.
No kissing unless we’re at the gala,remember.
So instead, I shift my lips to kiss her forehead, pressing lightly, my eyes closing, wishing more than anything I were kissing her mouth right now. When I pull back, she still stares at me like she continues to be in a state of shock. So, I reach out, taking her hand in mine, and pulling her along with me. “C’mon, let’s go see the apartment.”
She nods, words seeming to have escaped her for the moment. I lead her up the elevator, no words spoken between us as we ascend, and we walk down the hall to apartment number 2017. It’s nothing flashy, but it is secure.
I unlock the door and let Marley in first. She walks into the living room and stops. She turns back to face me, her brow raised. “This place needs some serious love,” she says, honest observation without judgment.
