Shrugging, he held it open for me. "I wanted to."
The crazy flutter started in my belly again. Stepping forward, I let him help me put the jacket on. Then he took my hand and tugged me to the back door.
Outside, the parking lot was empty except for a few straggler cars and a motorcycle parked at the curb. It was a beast, low-slung, matte black, chrome so polished it reflected the streetlights. I stopped dead, staring.
He handed me a helmet, the inside lined with bright red fleece. "You ever ride?"
"Not since college," I admitted.
He smiled, a flash of teeth. "Good. You’ll be a natural."
I hesitated, staring at the helmet. "You’re serious?"
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "It’s just a bike, Krystal. You can say no."
I wanted to say no. But I wanted to say yes a heckuva lot more.
I took the helmet, and as I did, his fingers brushed mine. For a second, it was like holding a live wire. My heart tripped over itself, and my stomach danced the tango. My wolf was oddly silent, though.
He swung a leg over the bike and settled onto the seat, then patted the spot behind him. "C’mon. I promise not to kill us."
I snorted but climbed on. When I wrapped my arms around his waist, the heat of his body seeped through the jacket. Good grief, he smelled amazing. It was an effort to not put my nose into his neck and inhale. My wolf would normally be purring like a damn cat by now.
He started the engine. The rumble traveled up through my thighs and into my chest, all the way to my teeth. The helmet muted the sound but not the vibration. I cinched my arms tighter, and he glanced back, eyes glinting.
"Ready?"
No.
"Yeah."
He kicked up the stand and rolled us forward. The bike was smoother than I expected. We eased out of the lot, then onto the main road. The cold air washed over me, and I was thankful for the leather jacket.
We took the back road out of Stock Creek, the one that wound up into the foothills, past the old quarry and the rows of dark, empty barns. The moon was bright and huge tonight, hanging low over the mountains. Every time we hit a curve, I leaned with him, my chest pressed to his back, my knees hugging his hips. It was the most intimate thing I’d done with a man in years, and I loved every second of it.
Halfway up the ridge, the road straightened, and he gunned it. The acceleration shoved him back into me, and I pushed my head against his shoulder blade, laughing into the helmet. I couldn’t hear myself over the engine, but I didn’t care.
He turned onto a side road, barely more than a trail, and climbed higher. The pavement turned to gravel, then dirt, but he handled it like he’d done this a thousand times. At the top, we coasted to a stop at the edge of a lookout.
He set the kickstand and twisted to face me, pulling off his helmet. His hair was a mess, but his eyes were bright. "You good?"
I took off my helmet. My hair was almost definitely ten times worse than his, but I couldn't seem to make myself care. "That was awesome."
He laughed. "That’s the idea."
We sat there, both of us breathing hard, the air full of dust and the lingering heat from the engine. The view was ridiculous, with Stock Creek laid out below us, the stars so close above us I felt like I could touch them.
"The view is breathtaking."
"It sure is."
Turning, I noted that he wasn’t looking at the view, but at me. When he stepped closer, my breath hitched, and I tried, and failed, to control my erratically beating heart. Then he lifted his hand and trailed his fingers down my cheek. Tingles of awareness erupted over my skin where he touched me.
He was going to kiss me, and I wassoon board with that.
Chapter 5
Zaden
