He spins quickly, and suddenly we’re wrestling around on the ground. I manage to squirm out from under him briefly, but then he pins me again, lifting my hips and legs off the ground, and I know I’ve lost.
“Shit,” I mutter as someone slaps the ring and calls the match. Nate rolls off me and helps me up, then pulls me into his arms and kisses me fiercely.
I climb out of the ring and Rich meets me once again to help me out of the head gear and to cut the tape off my hands. “Not bad, baby doll.”
“I have four older brothers. I had to learn to defend myself against them. Mom couldn’t always be there to referee.” I grin at Rich. I like him already.
The crowd thins again, all the guys go back to their own workouts and Nate joins us. “Ready to go?”
“Sure.”
“You come back anytime, girl.” Rich hugs me – hugs me! – and smiles at Nate. “You can come too, if you must.”
“Gee, thanks, dad.”
***
The ride back to the apartment is no less exhilarating than the ride to the gym was. My body is still sensitive from our rigorous workout, and the humming of the bike between my thighs is doing delicious things to my core. I wrap myself around Nate, my nipples pucker against his back, and I squeeze his thighs with mine.
He inhales sharply and curses and I smile. “Thank God this is a short trip.”
He pulls into the garage and into his parking space. It’s fairly dark down here, the only light coming from fluorescent over-head bulbs. It’s deserted.
I climb off and we take our helmets off, then before he can lower the kick-stand, I climb back on, straddling his lap.
“Hey,” his eyes widen and he grabs my ass to steady me.
“Hey yourself.” I lean in and kiss him, my hands on either side of his face and he pulls me more snuggly against him, rubbing me against his erection still hidden in his workout pants.
“I want you,” I murmur against his lips.
“Here?” he asks.
“Fuck, yes.”
“Jesus, you never fail to surprise me, baby.” He’s supporting the heavy bike, and us, with his strong legs braced on either side. He reaches between us and rips my yoga pants at the seam of my crotch. Holy fucking shit! My panties are next, and before I know it, he’s lowered the waist of his pants and is filling me.
“Oh, God, yes.” I lean back and brace my hands on the handlebars of the sexy motorcycle, wrap my legs around his waist, and he guides me up and down his beautiful cock with his hands cupping my ass.
“Fuck, baby,” his teeth are clenched. He pulls one hand around and presses on my clit with his thumb, and I explode around him, pushing down on him, and he finds his own release, shouting my name. I hear it echoing in the parking garage, and I smile smugly, looking up into his hot gray eyes.
“I’ve never had motorcycle sex before.” I lean up, wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. He’s still inside me, but anyone watching would just assume we’re making out on his bike.
“Me neither,” he chuckles against my lips, lifts me off of him and pulls his pants up. I stand next to the motorcycle and wrap my jacket around my hips, knotting it at my waist. That should get me upstairs.
“I’m going to have to go shopping this week. You’re tearing up all of my clothes.” I laugh as we walk onto the elevator and Nate pulls me into his arms, hugging me close.
“I’ll replace them.” He kisses my forehead and I smirk.
“No need. I don’t mind.”
“Did you bring a dress?” he asks.
“Yes, why?”
“I’d like to take you out tonight.” He runs his hand up and down my back and I feel like purring.
“Okay.”
“Good, let’s go shower.”
Chapter Seven
I study myself in the mirror and grin. I’ve pulled my blonde hair into a loose bun behind my left ear. My eye makeup is smoky and sexy, setting off my blue eyes, and pink lip gloss is smoothed over my lips.
It will probably be kissed off before we leave the apartment.
My dress is light gray and strapless, with a sweetheart neckline. It’s gathered between my breasts and has soft ruffles that fall down the length, just above my knees. I have pink diamonds in my ears, a birthday gift last year from Natalie, a pink bracelet on my right wrist and pink Louboutin heels.
Grabbing my gray clutch bag, I toss in my phone, lip gloss, money, debit card and driver’s license.
Time to knock Nate’s socks off.
Coldplay’s The Scientist is playing. Nate is not in the great room or the kitchen, and I know he’s not in his bedroom or master bathroom because that’s where I just came from.