I duck, startled, and the helmet goes clattering to the pavement. “Caesar, whoa,” I yelp, startled. “Slow down!”
“Aw, shit,” he grumbles. “Sorry, kid.”
We look at each other, then both laugh. This time, he doesn’t hold back the same way, and a deeper guffaw comes out. “Aw, shit, kid,” he chuckles. “Your fucking face.”
I laugh and scoop up the helmet. “I’m glad you found it amusing.”
Caesar’s expression relaxes. “Your jeans are good, but you’ll need the jacket for safety.” He gestures to the bike. “Come over here.”
I follow, Grace by my side. The bike looks bigger and wider than the motorcycles I imagine, although I’ve definitely never been on one to really know. All the worries start dancing through my thoughts, how it’s dangerous and all that crap. And I honestly am scared, but the rush of excitement I feel is so much stronger.
Caesar is going to take me for a ride on his motorcycle. That is so hot.
He nods for me to put on my helmet and jacket, which I obediently do. A second later, I’m behind him on the bike. Caesar tells me how to hold on, then patiently explains the basics so that I’m prepared.
His jacket is heavy on my shoulders, and I can smell his musky scent beneath the worn leather. Behind him, both of our legs spread, my body is forced close to his, the machine holding us together.
Caesar reaches back. His heavy, large hand lands on my thigh, patting me. “You ready, Drew?”
I’m not sure why, but it strikes me to hear him say my name. Caesar’s deep, husky voice draws it out, time stretching with the thunderously sweet sound.
He has to feel what I feel. There’s no other reason he would do all of this for me.
The motorcycle kicks to life, thrumming between my legs, and a second later, we’re off. Caesar jerks his leg, and the bike rolls down his driveway and out onto the quiet street, purring a gentle roar.
I hold his arms, pulling myself to his safety, and feel the wind on my cheeks. I cling to him because right now, I can.
Even if I’m right and Caesar does want me, I know it’s not so easy as that.
He slept with my dead father. Hell, Mack might have ridden on the back of his bike, same as I am right now.
This whole thing is just so, so weird.
We hit the expressway, flying as we make our way out of the city. It feels wrong and right at the same time. He’s probably twice my age, and he lives in a whole different world than the one I know.
We take a slow turn, the bike leaning with our motion. Instead of being scared, I close my eyes, trying to savor the exhilaration.
There are a million reasons Caesar should be forbidden. But after years of putting my life on hold, I finally have what I want, so I squeeze him close and smile as we speed around another turn.
CHAPTERELEVEN
CAESAR
It takesan hour of riding before the city turns into suburbs and cornfields. My bike is like a part of me, an extension of my body, but it moves differently with Drew’s weight on the back.
The last time I had someone riding with me must have been years ago. I’ve forgotten how good it feels to have a man holding me, using my weight to steady himself.
Drew wears me down. He slips through all my defenses, and worse than that, he seems fully aware of what he’s doing. It’s one of the few ways he does remind me of Mack, although I get irritated anytime the comparison comes to mind lately.
Finally, I arrive to the address he gave me, an old house on a wooded lot with a big detached garage sitting across the driveway. When I roll in, I feel Drew’s grip on my arm relax.
I pull my helmet off. “You good back there, kid?”
“Yeah,” he answers, his voice muffled, then pulls his helmet off, too. “That was so cool!”
I smile to myself, pleased. “Glad you liked it.”
Although I could sit there all day just to feel him behind me, I cut the engine and swing my legs to the pavement. Drew looks dazed and happy, a silly grin on his face, and I take his elbow to help him off.
