Throttle Me (Men of Inked #1)(3)
“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.
City backed the bike into an empty spot and I could feel my body begin to tremble from the fear that finally began to seep through my veins. I did it. I rode on a motorcycle and with a stranger, no less. My breath was harsh and as I blinked slowly and tried to calm myself down.
“You can climb off now, sugar.” His legs were straddling the bike and he held the handlebars, securing the bike for me. “Enjoy your first ride?”
I released my hands from the security of his body and hoisted myself off on trembling legs. “It was the single most terrifying thing I’ve ever experienced,” I said, thankful when my feet were firmly on the ground. I stood, trying to get my body to stop shaking and my heart to slow down before walking inside the bar with him at my side.
“If that’s the scariest thing you’ve ever experienced, you need to get out more, sugar. I took it slow with you.” He grinned and my stomach plummeted from his sinful smile. I wanted to see him above me naked and moving in and out of my body slowly almost at a torturous pace. Everything about him made my body convulse and scream for attention. He wasn’t my type. I preferred a book worm and a man that liked to spend an evening inside watching a movie or playing Scrabble, not riding like a bat out of hell on a Fat Boy to hang out at a bar. I wasn’t a bar fly and never would be.
The outdoor lights gave me a full view of the man that called himself City. His hair was darker than I originally thought, almost jet-black, and an inch long on the top, brushing against his forehead as he shook it out. It was a mess from the wind with the front hanging over his forehead. I couldn’t tell the color of his eyes, they were still hidden behind the tinted lenses of his glasses.
“Yeah, lucky me,” I chuckled and tried to play it cool even though my body shook. If that was slow I didn’t think I wanted to know what his idea of fast and hard were, or did I? F*ck me. He had my brain all jumbled.
Removing the helmet, I ran my fingers through my hair trying to straighten it after the wild ride. He laughed as he crawled off the bike, taking the helmet from my hands, and placed it on the seat. I watched mesmerized as he removed his glasses and put them inside a small bag hanging from the side of the bike. I wanted to see his eyes and the entire man without a mask or veil.