Country Roads(67)

As they passed the last of the Victorian houses on Washington Street, the engine noise ratcheted upward, and she felt the speed increase as well.

It was fine. She was still fine.

The passing scenery became a blur and the wind yanked at the ends of her hair where they emerged from her helmet. She tightened her grip.

The bike tilted left. She felt Paul’s body leaning with the motorcycle and tried to follow his lead as he had instructed her, but every instinct in her body screamed to lean right to counteract the disorienting slant. She swallowed a sob of relief when the motorcycle righted itself.

The relief was short-lived as Paul leaned to take the next curve. She felt fear begin to clog her lungs and the old terror claw at her mind.

She couldn’t do this over and over again. The stress would bring on a seizure and she would fall off the bike like she had the horse all those years ago…only this time she might drag Paul with her.

The panic ratcheted higher, so she closed her eyes and focused on the feel of Paul’s body against hers, the shift of muscles in his shoulders as he guided the heavy vehicle under them, the way he sheltered her from the wind and anything else being thrown at them by the road. This was Paul, the man she had come to trust as an advisor and as a lover.

She felt him lean and this time she went with him, channeling all that trust into her rebellious muscles. The feeling of being melded into one with the man and his powerful machine was like nothing she’d ever experienced. She opened her eyes and laughed out loud in sheer exhilaration.

She had no idea how long they rode, lost as she was in the thrill of speed and trust and risk taking. At some point Paul turned off the highway and wound down a back road before bringing the bike to a grumbling halt in a turnoff area beside the single lane byway.

“Here we are,” he said, killing the engine and holding the bike rock steady as she climbed off.

She pulled off her helmet and shook out her hair, the grin she couldn’t wipe away still tugging at the corners of her mouth. “That was incredible!”

He unzipped his jacket and lifted off his own helmet. “You’re a natural. Once we got past those first couple of curves, I could tell you got into it.”

“It was scary at first. If I thought you could have heard me, I would have chickened out and asked to stop. But this is an experience I wouldn’t have missed for anything.”

He took her helmet from her and pulled her into his arms, the leather of their jackets creaking softly as it rubbed together. “I’m glad I could give it to you.” He bent his head and kissed her gently at first, then more intently.

The adrenaline already coursing through her body carried the pleasure in waves. She clutched at the open edges of his jacket and pulled herself inward against his chest, so she could revel in the heat of him. That wasn’t enough, so she released his jacket and slid her hands up under his tee, feeling the muscles of his abdomen contract as her palms traveled over them.

His hands slid down to her behind, and he pressed her hips against his as he ended their kiss and tilted his head back, half moaning her name. He stood like that, letting her explore his skin beneath the shirt, as his breathing grew more and more ragged. She skimmed her palms upward to brush over his flat nipples. His grip on her tightened convulsively, so she could feel his erection harden between them. When she came back for another pass, he released her and backed away as he caught one of her wrists. “We need to cool off, and I’ve got just the place to do it. Come with me.”

He turned and tugged her onto a path threading between trees undergirded by dense bushes. The sound of moving water drifted between the leaves as the dirt track tilted sharply downhill. As they burst out of the trees into bright sunlight, a river spread out in front of her, its dark-green water slipping past like glass.

Paul pulled her up onto a huge flat boulder jutting out into the water. “The mighty Limestone River. It may be a tad cold, but I could use that right now.” He shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it on the rock before he moved behind her to slip hers off her shoulders.

“What do you mean?”

“Take a swim.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head.

“But I don’t have a bathing suit.” She also wasn’t much of a swimmer, since that was one of those things that didn’t combine well with epilepsy. She had been allowed to paddle in a swimming pool under the watchful eye of a relative, but their vacations had been planned to avoid oceans—and rivers.

Paul’s shirt-tousled hair gave him a rakish look. “You ever hear of skinny-dipping?”

“In broad daylight?”

“Do you see anyone around?”