He’s a Scott!
He extends his helmet to me, and says, “Put it on and hop on.”
“What?”
“You want to run away, right?” I nod. “I’ll take you wherever you need.”
“Have you lost your mind? I’m wearing a dress.” And why is this the first thing I say? There are thousands more important reasons why I can’t go with him!
His intense stare roaming over me sends scorching heat all over my system, and his hoarse voice only adds to the confusing yet tempting feelings sinking into me. “Trust me, I’ve noticed. I’m heading out anyway, and poor Gordon is trying to win a poker game with my guards. I assume he’d hate to leave now and tell his wife he lost around three grand because you didn’t give him the chance to win it back.”
“How do you even—” Exhaling, I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll call a cab.”
He shrugs, his free hand squeezing the handlebar and roaring the machine to life, the sound echoing through the night and making the birds in the surrounding trees fly high in the dark sky. “Pity. I thought after standing up to your brothersfor the first time in your life, you’d have more fire in you. My mistake.”
His goading words should not affect me. His offer for a ride is probably a ruse of some kind to throw more bullshit my way.
However, I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before, and I always wanted to try it back in my teens. Would I ever get the chance to do it again anytime in the future?
Besides, traffic would be horrible at this hour, and I’d get to my destination faster on the bike.
“Fine,” I say, snatching the helmet from him and putting it on. “Just for your information. If you plan to kill me tonight to stick it to my brothers, you guys have security cameras everywhere, and they’d know it’s you.”
“Don’t worry,moy cvetochek. When I want to kill someone, I’m discreet about it.”
Amusement laces his tone, but it doesn’t seem like a joke. It sounds like he’s stating a fact, which is odd in itself.
And I ignore the mocking endearment, because whatever.
Whatever.
I want to get away from here and try something new. Sometimes ignoring reality pays off.
Taking my phone out, I quickly text Scarlett to meet me at the club and then show Levi the address. “Could you please take me there?” He nods. “And don’t tell anyone about it.” His lips twitch, and annoyance zips through me. “Or shout it from the rooftops. I don’t care. I’m an adult.”
“Lavender, get on the fucking bike and save theI’m a grown womanspeeches for your brothers. I’m well aware you are one.”
Slipping my phone back into my clutch, I place it on the bike so it’d get squished between us, and then hike up my dress—thank God for my long slit—and sit, pressing myself tight against him. Thousands of goose bumps break out on my skin,the touch sending electric volts crashing into me as I’ve never been willingly this close to him.
“Hold on tight, Lavender. Don’t let go, no matter what.”
Wrapping my hands around his middle, I shift forward and then rest my chin on his shoulder, waiting for our gazes to clash, and whisper, “Please don’t go too fast.” His muscles grow rigid under my palms, and the vein on his neck pulses faster, and I don’t understand the deep need to trace it.
Oh God.
Maybe this was a mistake.
“Don’t let go,” he reminds me again, right as he revs the engine, riding toward the gates with all his might, it seems, as the wind hits my face and the air sticks in my throat.
The garden becomes a blur as he speeds up and passes the security cubicles, driving onto the narrow road leading toward the city, my fingers curling into his leather jacket and clenching it harder as the feeling of freedom sinks in.
Because all my worries and self-doubts, along with intrusive thoughts, disappear, leaving only this euphoric, carefree desire to break all the chains holding me and take a deep breath for what feels like the first time in my life.
I practically plaster myself against him when he speeds up on the empty road and squeal when the machine roars and he lifts the front wheel off the ground. “Oh my God,” I yell, wrapping myself tighter around him so I don’t fall. This man does want to kill me after all! “Stop it!”
“Why?” He glances over his shoulder, his cheek brushing against mine, and I gasp. “Are you scared?”
“Yes.” I should probably pretend to be all brave, but fuck it. It’s my first time on a bike. A girl is allowed to be afraid. “And you aren’t wearing a helmet. It’s dange—” Another squeal slips past my lips when he takes a swift turn to the right, and we get on the busy street while he navigates through several lanes. Hismovements are so fluid and easy that one might think riding a motorcycle is the easiest thing in the world.
