As we ride, something shifts inside me. Maybe it’s the vibration of the engine, or the feel of Anthony’s body against mine, or just the freedom of speeding through the night with nothing between me and the world except this man and this machine. Whatever it is, it makes me bold in a way I haven’t been in years.
I slide my hands lower, feeling Anthony’s body tense as my fingers trace the waistband of his jeans. We’re at a stoplight, the red glow painting everything crimson. I lean forward, my chest pressed against his back, and try to make sure he can hear me when I say, “Take me to your place instead.”
He turns his head slightly, trying to see my face through his helmet visor. “You sure?”
In answer, I slide my hand between his legs, feeling the hardness already growing there. I palm him through his jeans, a rush of power surging through me as he groans, the sound barely audible over the engine.
“I’m sure,” I say, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Very sure.”
The light turns green, and Anthony accelerates perhaps a bit faster than necessary, the sudden burst of speed making me cling tighter to him. I keep my hand where it is, massaging him through the denim, feeling him grow harder under my touch.
We turn off the main road onto a street that leads toward the bay. The homes here are larger, with well-maintained lawns and expensive cars parked under their stilts.After a few minutes, Anthony slows and turns into a driveway leading to a modern townhouse with large windows facing the water.
He cuts the engine, and the sudden silence is almost jarring. Neither of us moves for a moment, my hand still resting between his legs, his body still radiating heat into mine.
“This is me,” he says finally, his voice rougher than before.
I reluctantly withdraw my hand so we can dismount. As I pull off the helmet, I realize I recognize this neighborhood. “Wait, this is only a few houses from Mia’s place.”
Anthony nods, taking the helmet from me. “Yeah, we’re practically neighbors. I bought this so I could live closer to my sister.”
The thought makes me laugh. “So all those times you were watching me, you were just... crossing over the bridge from the bay to oceanside?”
“Yeah,” he admits, looking slightly embarrassed. “It’s only about a fifteen-minute ride.”
I shake my head, still smiling. “Unbelievable.”
I look up at him, at this man who’s been a shadow and a mystery for so long, now solid and real before me. His eyes are dark with desire, his breath quickens. I reach up and touch his face, tracing the spot where the mask used to sit.
He leans down, hesitating just before our lips meet, waiting for permission. I close the distance, pressing my mouth to his. The kiss is gentle at first, almost tentative, but quickly grows deeper, hungrier. His hands tighten on my hips, pulling me closer until I’m pressed against him from chest to thigh, feeling the hardness I’d been teasing on the ride here.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard, our exhales mingling in the cold night air.
“We should go inside,” Anthony says, his voice rough with want. “Before we give the neighbors a show.”
I nod, suddenly eager to see his home, to be alone with him properly for the first time. “Lead the way.”
He takes my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine, and leads me toward the front door. As we climb the steps to his door, I feel a flutter of nerves mixed with anticipation. This is it, the beginning of something new, something chosen freely and without fear.
And I can’t fucking wait.
31
Anthony
Iunlock the doorand guide Lila inside, my hand still intertwined with hers. The click of the door shutting behind us feels monumental. The sound of a threshold being crossed, not just physical but something deeper. My townhouse is dark except for the faint blue glow of the bay waters visible through the wall of windows overlooking a spacious balcony, casting everything in soft shadows. Neither of us reaches for a light switch. In this half-dark, with her hand warm in mine and her breath coming quick and shallow, I don’t need to see clearly. I just need to feel.
“Your place is beautiful,” she whispers, eyes taking in the open layout of the main floor, the moonlight dancing on the water outside.
“Not as beautiful as you,” I say, and it sounds cliché, but fuck, I mean it. Standing here in my entryway, still wearing my too-big leather jacket, her red hair loose around her shoulders, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
She turns to me, a small smile playing at her lips. “Smooth.”
“Not trying to be.” I step closer, drawn to her like gravity. “I call it like I see it.”
Her eyes hold mine, searching for something. Whatever she’s looking for, she must find it, because she reaches up and hooks her arms around my neck, pulling me down to her level.
“Take me upstairs,” she whispers against my lips. “I want to see your bedroom.”
