Mr Spencer(109)

“Like a log.” He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight.

“God, it’s so beautiful here, Spence.”

He smiles as he looks out over the horizon. “It is, isn’t it?”

We stand in each other’s arms for a moment as we drink in our surroundings. “What are we doing today?” I ask.

“Sightseeing.” I smile broadly.

“On mopeds.”

I flick around to face him. “Mopeds?” I gasp. “I’ve… I’ve never…”

Spencer laughs at my sheer terror. “Don’t worry, I’ll be driving. You’re just being my biker bitch.”

“Biker bitch?” I frown. “What the hell does a biker bitch do?”

“Me.” He winks. “You sit on the back of my bike all day, and then you sit on my cock all night.”

I burst out laughing. “You’re an idiot.”

With a huge smile, he bites at my neck and walks me backwards inside the house.

“But first you have to earn your leathers.”





*



“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Wyatt frowns.

I glance over at Wyatt as Spencer puts my motorbike helmet on. I don’t think this is a good idea, either, if I’m honest, but I’m trying my hardest to act braver than I really am.

Spencer frowns while he concentrates on fastening the strap under my chin.

“This makes me feel claustrophobic,” I say.

He smirks, choosing not to respond verbally.

“How much experience do you actually have on motorbikes?” I ask. I look at the nippy little machine parked in our garage.

“Heaps.” He knocks on my helmet three times. “I’ve only been to hospital three or four times. A few broken bones have been the worst of it.”

“What?” My eyes widen.

“Both legs, both arms,” he teases. “Fractured skull.”

“Tell me you’re joking.”

“I swear, if you crash with her on the back of that bike…” Wyatt interrupts.

Anthony laughs as he watches on.

“Stop laughing, Ant,” Wyatt warns. “This could be the last trip we ever come on.”

“Or last trip we ever make,” I mutter flatly.

Spencer’s eyes widen with delight. “Will you all fucking relax? I’m an excellent driver and…” He throws his leg over the bike and leans down, pretending to ride fast. “You won’t be able to keep up with Charlotte and me.”

Good grief, I may actually die today. “Spencer, I don’t know about this.”

“Get on, woman.” He gestures to the back of the bike with his chin.

I put my hands on my hips and smirk at him. He’s said that to me before, although the context was completely different. “Get on and wrap your legs around me.”

I do as I’m told, enjoying the way he helps me onto the seat behind him.

“You boys all right with everything?” Spencer asks them. Wyatt starts up his engine, followed by Anthony. Spencer starts our bike up, too.

“Go slow,” Wyatt warns him. “Don’t drive stupid.”

Spencer rolls his eyes. “You nag me to fucking death, Wyatt.”

Anthony chuckles. “Right?”

Spencer turns around and flips my little glass screen down over my eyes. “Hold on tight, angel.”

He pulls out slowly, and I scrunch my eyes tight and hold on.

He begins to pick up speed, and I squeeze him so tight that I’m afraid he may pop.

We pull out into the street and down the hill.

“You okay?” he calls.

I nod, too scared to reply. We ride on the cobblestone streets for a while, and I watch the people flash by us in a blur.

He runs his hand along my thigh. Hmm, maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

We pull out onto a wider road and he speeds up a little. Wyatt appears on his bike beside us out of nowhere, holding his hand up for Spencer.

“Slow down!” he calls to us.

Spencer shakes his head, flips him the bird, and accelerates away.

“Ah!” I scream as I am pushed back from the G-force.

I look behind us to see Wyatt and Anthony chasing us with a look of sheer terror on their faces. I giggle and shout out to Spencer, “Lose them.”

Spencer nods and twists his wrist to send us faster.

“See you later, motherfuckers,” he cries.

I hear Wyatt’s horn blare to life, and I put my head down on Spencer’s shoulder and laugh.

Being naughty is so much fun.





*



Three hours later, we pull into a beach and I smile goofily as I take my helmet off.

That was the most fun I think I’ve ever had. We’ve seen so much of the island and had a great time doing it, too.

Wyatt and Anthony pull in beside us, and Spencer laughs as soon as Wyatt takes his helmet off.

“I just aged fifty years thanks to you.” Wyatt huffs. “You’re a maniac driver.”

Spencer holds his hand out at the beach. “But look at your reward.”

We look around and see the most beautiful beach of black sand. It has deckchairs lined up in pairs with straw thatched beach umbrellas above them. The water is bright blue and crystal clear. There’s a beach bar, too, and people are sitting out the veranda drinking cocktails.