I chuckle, brushing off her snarky reply. “I think you like trouble.”
“I definitely don’t,” she contests.
“You might if you forgive me and get on this fucking bike. I’m not asking for anything more than a friendly ride. Yet.”
Kayla chews the inside of her cheek, and I can’t tell if she wants to kiss me or drop kick me.
“C’mon.” I urge her again, turning up the charm.
Reluctantly, she takes a step forward, coming so close the clean scent of her shampoo assaults my senses.
“Say you’re sorry,” she straight up challenges me.
I stare her down, determination burning in my gaze.
“I’m fucking sorry. And I mean it. I’ll never bounce like that again. I’ve never been good at goodbyes. And I’m pretty sure if I looked you in the eye, I wouldn’t have been able to leave.”
The hard lines in Kayla’s face soften. I think my earnest apology may have redeemed me. A minuscule amount.
After a few long, dragged out moments, Kayla smiles and sighs.
“Am I forgiven?”
“No.” She smirks.
“Yes, I am.” I snatch her wrist and yank her closer. “Get. On.”
Kayla twists out of my grasp almost fearfully. Never in my life have I seen someone react to a motorcycle the way she does.
“I haven’t been on a bike in a long time.” Tears actually form in her eyes. What the . . . ?
“I’ll take care of you, baby. There’s no place safer than right here.” I tap my thighs.
“You know that’s not where I ride.” She stifles a laugh. Now, we’re getting somewhere.
“You can if you want. Cling right to me like a monkey.”
“Never.” She purses her lips.
Ah, there is a little pride in there.
“Then what’s it gonna be? Every second we stand here is one less mile on the road.” Kayla fidgets in place, deliberating. I don’t see the issue.
“I need a helmet.” She finally breaks her nervous silence.
I hand over mine, but she just stares at it chewing the shit out of her lip. “Hang on.”
She hurries over to the garage and punches in a code on the keypad next to the door, running inside as it opens. I look on as she disappears, spying a black sports bike with hot-pink wheels in the back of the garage.
Hmm . . .
Kayla returns holding a helmet bearing the same colors as the bike and a leather jacket with hot pink stripes down the arms and sides.
“That’s a hot little Kawasaki you have there—”
“Don’t say another fucking word,” she cuts me off at the knees, flinging on her jacket. “And just start the bike.” She slips on her helmet and hops on like a pro.
Well, fucking well, there is a story to be told. I’ll leave it be for now. I punch the starter and the tricked-out engine roars. I revel in the vibrations and the sound; I missed my beast.
Kayla wraps her arms around my waist, and I can’t suppress the smile.
“Reese?” She leans back and lifts her visor. “Is that a gun in your waistband, or are you just really happy to see me?”
“It’s a gun, but I’m also really happy to see you.” I slide my helmet on. That’s another thing Riley is good for. Extra heat when I need it.
“Why do you need a gun?” she asks over the loud rumble of the twin turbos.
“Kayla.” I twist back to look at her. “This is a one-of-a-kind H2R with mods out the ass and a lot of hungry bikers out there. Catch my drift?”
She nods.
No way am I going to let some street trash stick me up for my bike. Pull this puppy apart, and you’re talking tens of thousands of dollars in parts on the black market. Over my dead body.
I squeeze Kayla’s hand as I back out of her driveway then open up the throttle once on the street. It’s late October, so the temperature is mild. Perfect riding weather with colorful autumn scenery. I head straight for the backcountry, where the roads are windy and hilly. At seventy miles per hour, they become your own personal amusement park attraction. I thought I was going to have to go easy with Kayla on the back, but she clearly knows what she’s doing, leaning when I need her to lean and communicating with her body language. Riding has always been a thrill, but riding with Kayla is a whole new experience. I’ve never liked to share the road, let alone my bike, but with her latched onto me, our bodies as fluid as the gas turbine, it feels like we can take flight. I give her fist a little squeeze, signaling to her to hold on before I slip the clutch, give it gas, and snap back, lifting the front tire into the air. I hear Kayla’s excited squeal over the reverberation of the engine. She loves the exhilaration almost as much as I do. I drop down, then run up the RPMs, hitting top speeds down the straight in front of us.
Kayla rubs my chest as I slow it down to a leisurely speed. With her body leaned forward and molded to mine, and her hands roaming all over my chest, I’m having difficulty thinking. I swipe her palm between my legs showing her exactly what she’s doing tome. She squeezes my cock shamelessly, then slips her hand into my pants. Oh fuck, she’s lucky I’m an expert rider trained for distractions, because if it were anyone else in the driver’s seat, we would end up wrapped around a tree.
Little fucking tease. She has me feverish, my throbbing cock the igniter.
I pull over under a covered bridge made out of stone. It’s not incredibly long but provides enough cover for what I’m about to do.
I cut the engine and drop the kickstand. Then I turn completely around. I toss my helmet and then Kayla’s, the scorching look in her gaze telling me everything I need to know. I affected her as much as she affected me. Initially, it may have been in different ways, but it’s about to produce the same outcome.
I pull her onto my lap as our mouths crash together. She digs her fingers into my hair as I force her to grind on my rigid erection.
I all but rip her clothes off right under the bridge. What I wouldn’t give for her to be wearing a skirt at the moment.
“How adventurous are you?” I shove my hand into her jeans to find she’s drenched. Unable to stop myself, I thrust two fingers deep inside her pussy and begin to finger fuck her. She immediately arches into me, riding my hand.
“At the moment . . . dangerously adventurous.” Her words are breathy.
Oh, fuck yes. “This is going to have to be quick.”
“Good thing you’re an expert at fast.” She rips open her pants.
“Yes, I fucking am. But let’s just keep this quickie to ourselves. Don’t want to tarnish my reputation.” I mimic her actions with humor in my voice.
“God forbid. You wouldn’t want to be known as the minuteman for any other reason than racing.” Her tone is clipped and as exceedingly needy as mine.
“No, I wouldn’t.” I dismount first, then lift Kayla off the seat, peeling her jeans down to her thighs and bending her over the bike. Fuck, I’m losing my mind from just the sight of her. I know I said the only thing hotter than Kayla straddling me would be Kayla straddling my bike, but seeing her bent over it, bottom half-naked, top half in leathers, may take the cake.
I unzip my fly releasing my dick, which is screaming hysterically to get inside her tight little pussy. Tight, wet, heavenly pussy. Jesus, the way I’m responding, you’d think I never fucked before.
“Did you miss my cock?” I thrust into her, jerking Kayla forward.
“Maybe,” she gasps.
“Maybe?” I wrap my hand around her throat and thrust again, trapping her against me. “Let me repeat the question. Did. You. Miss. My. Cock?” I punctuate each word with my hips. Kayla moans loudly, the sound echoing under the bridge.
“Did you miss my pussy?” She deflects my question.
“What the fuck do you think?” I slam into her, melding our bodies.
“Yes,” she gasps again.
“Does that answer account for all questions?”
She peers back at me and nods.
“Good. Now fucking come before someone catches us. That’s all I need, is my bare ass splashed all over social media.”
“Make me.” She eggs me on, pushing back onto my rigid cock. She doesn’t need to ask twice.
I latch onto her neck and unleash, pounding away until she’s tightening around me and wriggling in my arms. “Right there, baby. I want that,” I tell her as her pussy sucks on my cock, spasming and soaking it in her warm wet cum. God.
The small gap in her legs and the slick, tight channel gives me everything I need to explode. I lean us both forward as the orgasm hits, sending me soaring. The sounds of my own grunts and groans echoing around us now.
Once I begin to come down, I bury my face been Kayla’s shoulder blades and breath through the aftershocks. Fuck this woman, and the fucking hold she has over me.
A cool fall breeze reminds me of our exposure. I withdraw from a winded Kayla, then pull her up to a standing position. I swiftly pull up her bunched jeans, then do the same to myself, stuffing my cock into my pants as Kayla leans back and kisses me. For a fraction of a second, I’m an ecstatic man.
We hear the whoop whoop of a police car before we see it. Goddamn. This is the last thing we need. I pull Kayla flush against me, vigilantly aware of the concealed weapon in my waistband.
I cycle through a multitude of silent questions. How much did he see? How big of a prick is he? What am I going to have to pay to keep him quiet?