All the same, I grabbed Fox’s shoulder tohaul myself up, getting one leg across his ridiculous bike and then twistinginto place, wedged between Fox’s body and the box behind me.
I felt tiny.
But I also felt surprisinglysafe. Pressed up against Fox’s leather-clad back, still warm despite thelayers, a thrill of pleasure rippled through me. It was nice to be this closeto someone.
No one ever touched me, andI wished they would. Iwantedto be touched, all the time. One of mybiggest fantasies was curling up on the couch with someone’s arm around me,breathing in their familiar, comforting scent, and watching something mindlesson the TV.
My evil traitor of a brainreminded meagainof the dream I’d had last night, of howreal Fox had felt between my thighs, warm and solid. And of the fact that he reallyhadbeen wearingflannel pajama pants this morning—the wrong color, but they’d looked just assoft and inviting. Along with the thin, white cotton t-shirt I’d imagined himin, it’d been hard not to stare.
His hair had been all overthe place, and he’d looked sleepy and relaxed and like maybe it would have beenokay if Ididcrawl into hislap and demand sweet, lazy kisses all morning.
I pushed the whole ideaaside, focusing instead on the task at hand.
Putting the helmet on mutedalmost all the sounds around me. Now all I could hear was my own heartbeat andbreathing. Strange as it was, there was also something comforting about theinside of a motorcycle helmet.
Fox put his own helmet on infront of me, flipping the visor down. Mine was already down, and I wasn’t clear on howto do anything about that, but I figured it’d be fine.
If Fox thought this wassafe, I trusted him.
But Idefinitelyneeded to hold onto him, and not the handles, which I couldn’t get a grip onunder the seat.
My stomach swooped as Ireached out, fingers brushing over the well-worn leather of Fox’s jacket. Ishuffled forward, knees pressing into his thighs on either side, and tightenedmy arms around him.
The rush of blood in my headpaused for a moment as I got used to the position. A shiver ran down my spineat the warm, solid, comforting presence of Fox’s body against me.
This had been a mistake. Mybrain was already lighting up with ideas about justhowgood Fox wouldhave felt against me.
Naked.
Fuck.
I didn’t need to bethinking about this while my crotch was pressed up against his ass. I couldn’timagineworse timing.
The engine roared into life,settling down to a soft purr after a moment.
Thewhole fucking bikewas vibrating between my legs now. An involuntary shiver ran through me, and mygrip on Fox tightened.
I suddenly understood whypeople liked these things. Fox was sitting practically on top of the engine, itmust have been that much stronger for him.
Don’t get hard, I begged mycock.Please don’t get hard.
The recording studio seemedso far away.
All the same, I squeezed Fox’s waist to lethim know I was ready to go.
The careful takeoff tuggedat my bellybutton, another thrill of visceral pleasure washing over me as wepicked up speed.
Fox must have gotten laidafter taking people out on this bike so many times. Even if someone couldresist himbeforethis, there was no way they’d manage it after.
And I’d already hadhalf a sex dream about him.
Today was going to be a longday.
SIX
FOX
“When you get used to it,the whole world drops away and it’s just you, the road, and the bike. And thebloke you’re hanging onto for dear life,” I said, turning to glance over at apale, wobbly Quinn.
