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She jumps.
Her arms tighten.
I laugh.
“I heard that,” she says.
“Good.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
I pull away from the curb slowly.
Clara immediately loosens her grip.
Christ.
At the first stop sign, I reach behind me, catch her thigh and drag her forward.
Her entire body slides against my back.
She gasps. “Ryder!”
“There.”
Her thighs bracket my hips now.
Her chest presses against my back.
Her arms lock around my stomach.
Much safer.
Much fucking worse.
“You could have warned me.”
“You wouldn’t have listened.”
“You grabbed my leg.”
“Thigh.”
“That’s not better.”
“It is from where I’m sitting.”
She smacks my stomach.
“Keep your hands there.”
“Why?”
“Because I like them there.”
Her helmet taps my shoulder when she jerks her head toward me.
