“Most people start with a ‘hello.’ Surely you have that word in your arsenal.”
He grunted, rolling his neck. “Hello.”
One point to Zsófia.
My grin was wide, and he paused, holding the spare helmet, before sighing and putting it over my head. He flicked up the visor. I was still smiling.
He rolled his eyes. “Motorbike. Please.”
I shook my helmeted head. “Not that you’ve commented on it, but I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m in a hot as shit dress. I can’t get on a bike in my heels.”
His expression looked bored as he took off his leather jacket and stood behind me to help thread my arms through the sleeves. He leaned forward as he scooped my hair out from under the jacket and whispered in my ear, “You say—no seduce.Yes?”
My shoulders rolled back. His accent should be a criminal offence. It was an assault on my nervous system.
“I said that, yeah,” I breathed, turning to him and hating the helmet for crushing my hair and keeping my lips so far away from his.
He gestured to my dress in the same way my sister had, but his eyes were hungry. “But dress?”
Being covered in his huge leather jacket took away all of my shape, but he still looked me over with hungry eyes.
“Just because it’s green doesn’t mean it’s the go-ahead.”
“Green,” he repeated. “Ciclati.”
“Not purple for Veltar, no.”
He grabbed the chin on the helmet and pulled me an inch closer to him, kidnapping my breath. “Next time. Purple. Me.”
“Next time?” I taunted. “Who knew you were so sweet?”
He zipped up the jacket, taking my biggest asset from his view.My tits.“Sweet? No. You beg. Say—Zoltán, dress off. Please.” Those last few words he rasped in a higher pitch.
In the exact way I’d breathed when he’d touched my neck.Shit.
One all.
I pulled down the dark visor of the helmet so he couldn’t see my blush. His cocky grin rubbed salt in the wound.
He turned his back to me and tapped his shoulder blade. “Motorbike.”
“What?”
He crouched. “Motorbike. Backpack.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and hoisted myself up to wrap my legs around his hips. He held my hands in place before climbing us both onto the bike.
Without me flashing anyone.
I shuffled to make sure the skirt of my dress was firmly under my ass, but he leaned back, grabbing me and shuffling me forward so my front pressed against him.
“Hold hard.”
“Where are we—”
I was cut off by the violent growl of the engine, which took my voice. The vibration beneath me, his dark, musky scent on my skin, honed all of my senses to him.
I wrapped my arms around his middle, pressing my face into his back, expecting the absolute worst.
