This is my first time riding with Hawk as a Chaser, and we’re doing this for all those children. I want to focus on that.
“Stay close to me on the fairground. Here,” Hawk says as he hands me the red helmet we picked out for me last week.
“All the gear, all the time,” he told me sternly when I suggested borrowing one. “It’s better to have your own stuff, so that we can go for a ride whenever we want.”
As I straddle Hawk’s bike, I thank God I got a new pair of riding pants, too. My pre-DJ pair would probably burst at the seams the minute I’d try straddling this bike. It’s bigger and wider than Dylan’s. The thought makes me want to erupt in inappropriate giggles.
“Do you need me to go over anything regarding safety or motion?”
“Nope, I’m good.”
“I don’t know what signals you’re used to, but I’d like you to tap once if you want me to slow down, and twice if you want me to stop, okay?”
Hawk is trying to play it cool, but I feel his stomach muscles tense when I wrap my arms around his waist. He probably worries I’m a newbie who’s going to be a burden on this ride.
Lean with the bike, follow its motion, I remind myself, and we’re off.
I lean into the curves and turns, and after a while, I start to feel good. Like, really good. My front is pressed to Hawk’s back, and the bodysuit I wore to avoid untucking during the ride is like a dirty little secret, pressing into my crotch and between my cheeks whenever I lean forward.
A car whizzes past us, and the air vibrates from its speed. There is a vulnerability when you’re on a bike; that’s why they call a car a cage - you’re safe, but you’re not free. Not like this.
When we arrive at the fairground, my thighs are sore, and I'm pretty aroused. After dismounting, I discreetly unwedge the bodysuit from my ass and take off my jacket.
My new bra is doing all the heavy lifting in this outfit, though the baby-blue of the bodysuit earns honorable mention for making my eyes pop.
“Can you please put this in your saddlebag?”
Hawk gives me an odd look as he reaches for the jacket. “I’ll hold on to it. In case you’re cold later.”
As we check out the various booths, he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. He also hovers over me weirdly, like he’s on the job and I’m a client he’s protecting.
I shouldn’t have let Bev talk me into participating. I should’ve made a donation to the burn camp instead of tagging along. Maybe Hawk wanted to let loose and have fun, and now he’s stuck babysitting me.
We stop at one of the food trucks, and as we wait for our order, Hawk positions his back between me and the world. I gently lay my palm between his shoulders.
“Are you okay?”
He turns to look at me, and his eyes sparkle. “I’m good. It’s just…”
Someone slams into him before he can finish, and we’re both sprayed with something. It’s beer, I realize as I smell my hand. I hope none of it got on my new bra.
Shit! I glance up at Hawk to see how he’s coping with the smell, and he looks murderous. He holds my shoulders as he carefully looks me over.
He then turns and grabs the offender by his cut, lifting him from the ground.
“What the fuck, man?” The guy slurs.
A few others with the name Desert Snakes on their cuts run towards us.
“Whoa, whoa, we don’t want any trouble,” the tallest among them tells Hawk. “My brother can’t handle his liquor, that’s all.”
Hawk glances at me. As idiotic as that sounds, I think he’s asking my permission to let him go?
After I nod, he sets the offender back on his unsteady feet and tells the newcomer, “Keep a better eye on him, then.”
“Will do,” the biker responds before turning his gaze onto me. “I hope he hasn’t bothered you too much, doll. Can I buy you a drink to apologize?”
“She’s with me,” Hawk tells him in a low, almost threatening voice, and the other man lifts both palms up.
