“It’s okay. Thanks for trying.” I climbed out not wanting to be trapped inside. What the hell am I going to do now?
“I was heading to the bar up the road. Want to join me?” He smiled and tilted his head as he studied me. “You can call a tow truck from there. It may take them a while for them to get out here.”
I couldn’t think of any other option. He was my only hope, my saving grace from the dark roadside and a means to an end. There are worse things than climbing on the back of his motorcycle and wrapping my arms around him. “Okay, but I’ve never been on a bike.”
“Never? How is that even possible?” he asked, shaking his head, a small laugh escaping his lips. His teeth sparkled in the light, straight and white. His jaw was strong, his cheekbones jutted out more when he smiled, and a small dimple formed on the left side of his face.
I looked down at the ground, my cheeks heated. “I don’t know. I just never knew anyone that had one and I find them totally scary.”
“It’s not far from here and there isn’t much traffic. I’ll keep you safe,” he said, holding out his helmet.
My stomach fluttered as I closed the car door and thought about my first motorcycle ride. The black round helmet felt cool against my fingers as I took it from him. I scrunched my eyebrows together as I studied it. I didn’t know if there was a front or a back, or how to put it on.
“Here, let me help you,” he said as he reached for the helmet, removing it from my grip. His hand touched mine and I felt the spark again. Not a real spark, but electricity that I felt with every fiber of my being from the slightest touch. My body wanted his touch but my mind was throwing up the caution flag.
Placing it gently on my head, he ran his rough fingers down the straps, almost caressing my skin, to adjust it to fit my face. I inhaled deeply trying to fill all my senses with him, he smelled different than any other man I’d smelled. He didn’t smell of cheap cologne but there was a spicy woodsy scent that reminded me of home. I closed my eyes, and relished the feel of his warm skin against mine.
“All done. Are you ready?” he asked.
I opened my eyes, heat creeping up my neck as I had been lost in his touch. “Yes.” I prayed my voice didn’t betray me.
He climbed on the bike, sliding forward, making room for me. “Lift your leg and climb on.”
Placing my hand on his shoulder to help balance myself, I followed his instructions, my body slid forward, smashing against him. Rock solid. He turned his head, looking me in the eyes. “Put your feet on the pegs and wrap your arms around me. I don’t bite, well, unless you want me to.” He smirked and my heart felt like it was doing the tango in my chest as I pressed against his back. He didn’t just say that to me, did he? I lifted my feet off the ground, turning over complete control to the stranger I was entrusting with my life. I locked my hands together completely wrapped around him.
“Ready?”
“Wait! I don’t even know your name. I mean I’m putting my life in your hands and I don’t even know who you are.” I gripped his body tighter, clinging to him.
I couldn’t hear his laughter, but I felt the rumble of it from deep in his chest. “My friends call me City, sugar.” He throttled the engine and my heart skipped a beat. Fear gripped me – there’s no turning back now.
My grip became vice-like, fear overcoming any need to be cool or seem calm in front of him. He patted my hands before the bike began to move and I couldn’t bear to look. I buried my face in his back, avoiding any chance of seeing the road. The wind caressed my skin, causing it to feel like ice compared to the warmth my palms experienced. Does this man have any soft spots? I flexed my fingers against his chest wanting to feel his hardness, praying like hell I made it seem natural and not like I was molesting him.
The bike picked up speed and my heart thundered against his back. Gripping him harder, holding on for dear life, the sound of the engine drowned out everything else around me, except the two of us. He leaned into the bike, his ass moving snuggly between my legs. I didn’t dare move. He was warm, comfortable, and I enjoyed every minute my body touched his. I closed my eyes, trying to not think about the movement of the bike underneath us – the slight shift and unevenness of the road made me feel off balance.
The noise of the engine changed and I finally peaked over his shoulder. The parking lot of The Neon Cowboy was packed with bikes and was the brightest thing for miles. I’d driven by it dozens of times, but never thought about stopping. This wasn’t the type of bar for kids on speedy foreign-made bikes, but a place that tough bikers hang out, drink beer, and pick up chicks.