When his gaze flicked to mine, I froze. But he didn’t look away. He just held me there, steady and searching, and it was suddenly impossible to pretend that this was just another date. The air between us had shifted: charged, expectant.
Hours went by of us talking and sharing stories until the warm colors of the sky started to shift with the later hours. We began to make our way back to his bike to return home. As I reached his bike, I turned to where he stood beside me.
The crashing of the waves, the salt in the air, the faint warmth radiating off his body; it all pressed in a way that felt both too much and not enough. I moved closer without meaning to, his height forcing me to tilt my chin up. Thewarmth of his skin against mine spread through me like fire, and suddenly the world shrank to the inches between us. My back brushed the bike, the metal still warm from the ride. The vibration seemed to hum through me, grounding and electric all at once. He took a half step forward, close enough that his shadow spilled over mine, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. His eyes flicked from my mouth to my eyes and back again, waiting for permission he didn’t need to ask for.
He let out a shaky, uneven breath, then cupped my jaw in one calloused hand. His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth, and my breath hitched. The first touch of his lips was soft, almost hesitant, as he tested the weight of the moment. I felt it everywhere: in the back of my knees, in the quick flutter under my ribs.
When I leaned in, everything changed. He kissed me like he’d been holding back for too long. His other hand slid to my waist, fingers splaying against my hip, drawing me in until my body pressed against the solid heat of his. The bike behind me steadied us, but everything else tilted. The air, the ground, and my heart.
He tasted of salt and wind. His beard grazed my chin, a soft scrape that made my skin shiver. I felt the faint tremor in his hand when it traced up my side, resting at the small of my back as if he was memorizing me.
When we finally broke apart, neither of us moved. His forehead rested against mine, his breath mingling with mine, both of us unsteady. The fabric of his shirt was warm beneath my fingers.
Hunter’s voice came out low, rough. “You make it real hard tokeep my head straight.”
I smiled, still breathless. “Maybe that’s the point.”
He chuckled, the sound deep and lazy in his chest. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”
“Pretty sure you were the one going ninety down the coast.” I teased, tracing the line of his collarbone with my fingertip.
His lips quirked. “Yeah, but you didn’t exactly tell me to slow down.”
“Maybe I liked it,” I said softly, meeting his eyes.
“Careful saying things like that, Cami.”
His voice dropped lower, rough enough to scrape against my pulse. The warning should’ve made me nervous, but it didn’t. It only pulled me closer. His hand slid to the back of my neck, thumb tracing lazy circles against my skin.
“Why?” I whispered, breath catching.
His gaze darkened, heat and restraint tangled together. “Because I’m already fighting every instinct not to take you right here.”
The air between us went still, thick with something that felt both dangerous and inevitable. My heart raced, the edges of everything else blurring until it was just him—his breath, his voice, his touch.
“Who says I want you to fight it?” I murmured, my fingers curling into his shirt.
His jaw flexed, the muscle twitching as if he was barely holding himself back. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Maybe I like that too,” I said softly.
He exhaled through his nose, that small, crooked grin returning—half hunger, half surrender. “Yeah,” he muttered, pulling me closer until our foreheads touched. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
And then he kissed me again—slower this time, deeper, likehe’d given up pretending he didn’t want to. The kind of kiss that didn’t ask for permission, but still felt like an answer to every question we hadn’t dared to speak.
When it was time to get back on, I climbed clumsily again. He looked over his shoulder, a grin tugging at his mouth. “So, quick question before we head back, were you trying to knock me out back there, or is headbutting just your way of flirting?”
My jaw dropped, heat rushing to my cheeks. “I did not headbutt you!”
“You did. At least three times. I was starting to worry you were going to give yourself a concussion.”
I smacked his shoulder lightly, laughing despite myself. “I can’t even with you.”
He only grinned wider as he settled his helmet back on. “And yet, you keep getting back on.”
As we rode back, I leaned without hesitation. Letting go, letting him guide. It had been so long since I’d trusted anyone enough to just… follow. No plan, no control. Just me, pressed against him, the night roaring around us.
It wasn’t just the freedom that shook me. It was him. The solid feel of his body between my thighs, the steady strength of his hands, the warmth radiating through his shirt, the ache curling low in my stomach was undeniable. I craved him. Craved the weight of his touch, the heat of his mouth. Craved him in a way I wasn’t sure I’d ever allowed myself to crave anyone before.
