The Private Serials Box Set(75)
“Hold on tight.”
My lungs snapped shut with his words, my mind instantly picturing Preston behind me as I was on all fours, open and waiting for him, right before that damned picture was taken of us. I squeezed my arms around him, both trying to hold onto him safely, but also to push all the humiliating thoughts from my mind of Derrek seeing those photos.
He smelled incredible. The scent that was simply Preston mixed with the unmistakable smell of his leather jacket was enough to force my eyes closed as I breathed him in.
The bike suddenly jolted forward, moving into traffic, and I yelped, unprepared for the movement. His hand came off the handlebar and rested against mine clasped to his chest. He ran his hand over mine a few times, soft and gentle, before putting it back on the handlebar. I relaxed as the ride went on, getting use to the unfamiliar feeling, leaning into turns and being so vulnerable to every car on the road.
It occurred to me about ten minutes into the ride that Preston was an excellent motorcyclist, and he must ride often to be that proficient at it. I began to relax and enjoy the scenery passing me by. I hadn’t thought to ask him where we were going, but I didn’t worry about it. I was willing to go wherever he wanted in that moment.
We left the city proper and started to ride away from the commotion. The road we were on wound up the hills of a volcano in the middle of the island.
On one straightaway, I watched as Preston took his hand from the bike and placed it high up on the outside of my thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. The touch was simple but meant so much to me. It was thankful, as if he were glad I was with him in that moment. It was regretful, as if he were sad this was the first time I’d been on the back of his bike. But it also felt possessive, as if he were just reaffirming that I was, indeed, his. All I could do in response was snuggle in closer to his back and let my hands roam a little freer across his chest, pull myself into him further.
After about an hour, he pulled off the main road and onto a gravelly path that led to what seemed like an unofficial lookout. Obviously, many people came here to admire the view as indicated by the pieces of litter along the edges of the area.
He flipped out the kickstand with his foot and I unwound my leg from the bike, eager to stand and take in the view. I pulled the helmet off and a smile spread across my face. The view was absolutely breathtaking. Blue ocean met blue sky, wispy clouds far off in the horizon, and white waves crashing onto the shores below.
I turned, a smile still stretching my cheeks, like I hadn’t smiled in weeks, to find Preston leaning against the seat of his bike, ankles and arms crossed.
“Don’t you want to come see the view?”
“I like the view from here just fine.” He smiled as he spoke, but it wasn’t the brilliant smile I wanted to see. “Come here,” he finally said, the darkness back in his voice. I walked to him and stopped a few feet away. “I did a lot of talking back there. Is there anything you want to say to me?”
His question caught me off guard, but I thought about it for a second. Then I shrugged. “Why weren’t you just honest with me from the beginning?”
He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his bearded face. “Looking back, that might have been the better choice. But just because I lost my mind when I saw you that first day, didn’t guarantee you felt the same way about me. I guess I figured if I could get you out of your marriage unscathed, I’d done my job.” He paused and looked me in the eyes. “I wasn’t planning on falling in love with you, Lena.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said that today,” I murmured.
“What?” He looked puzzled.
“That you love me.”
“I’ve said it to you in my mind a million times.” He stood, pushing off his bike, moving closer to me. “I’ve said it silently to you while you’ve slept next to me.” He took another step toward me, leaving just half a foot between us. “I’ve said it out loud, praying you could hear me an ocean away.”
“I feel like I’m on a roller coaster,” I whispered, looking down at my hands, wringing them in the space between us. “For weeks now I’ve cursed you, hated you for how you betrayed me. Then, you just show up, and you seem to have an explanation for everything. And I want to believe you, Preston, I do.” I took in a breath, bracing myself. “I want to believe you and go back to the blissful place where you and I were exploring what it meant to be ‘us,’ and let you in all over again, but I’m scared.”
“I know,” he said as his hands reached gently for my face. My first instinct was to pull away, to keep a safe distance from him, but I couldn’t move. He brought his hands up to my jaw, fingers curled, the back running along my jawline and down my throat, leaving a warm tingle in their wake. My eyes closed again and I swallowed, trying to keep down everything his touch evoked. Then, his fingers opened and slid around to the back of my neck, his thumbs resting on my cheeks, pulling my face even closer to his. “I want you to trust me,” he said softly. “But I know I have to earn that back from you. But please, tell me you’ll give me that chance. Let me show you.”
I could feel his breath on my lips, could smell him all around me, and feel his hands on my skin. Then, suddenly, I was touching him too. My hands tentatively rested on his chest and he took in a small but audible breath at my touch.
“Please, sweetheart,” he begged. It was as if he was asking for everything: to forgive him, to love him, to be with him, to let it all go and move forward. I couldn’t answer him, didn’t have all the resolutions he was looking for, but I could kiss him. So I moved my lips just close enough to his to feel the warmth of them. Then, like I’d given him the first ray of light in a dark room, he took my mouth and showed me how sorry he was.