Reaper's Property(21)


“Hold tight,” he said. “Tap my stomach if you need me to stop for some reason and watch out for the pipes. They get hot.”
“Okay,” I replied nervously.
Then the bike roared to life and we pulled down the driveway.
How do I describe that first ride?
Well, for one thing, the bike vibrates. A lot. I suppose over time it would numb your rear, but for those first few minutes it felt like sitting on the world’s biggest sex toy. It didn’t hurt that my arms were wrapped tight around a hot, muscular guy who’d made it clear he appreciated my assets. I squeezed him tight as we pulled out onto the highway, holding on for dear life as he opened the throttle.
I’d promised to show him the sights, but he had his own agenda and apparently knew the area well already. After about half an hour, we pulled off the highway and headed up into the hills on a gravel road. This was much slower going and before long it turned to dirt. The next thing I knew, we turned down a narrow track that barely deserved to be called a road. It dead-ended at a turn-around. Horse killed the engine.
I dropped my hands, accidentally grazing his erection. I jerked my hand away, embarrassed, but he grabbed it and pulled it back, rubbing it up and down his length.
“Missed that, babe,” he said. I didn’t reply, feeling strangely shy, but when he let my hand go I didn’t stop touching him. I thought about his dick, how big it was, how hard it’d been the last time I’d seen it, all for me. I shifted on the seat, tilting my hips forward into the hard leather. It felt good to have my legs spread so wide… But I wanted to feel his shaft in my hand. I reached for his fly.
“Shit, babe, not gonna f*ck you in the parking lot,” he said, laughing. I squawked, jerking my hands away, embarrassed. “Got a better idea. C’mon.”
I hopped off the bike, knowing my face must be bright red. Horse grabbed our picnic stuff and one of his saddlebags, holding out his hand. I took it and he pulled me along a trail through the brush.
Now, you have to realize that eastern Washington isn’t exactly the garden of Eden. It’s mostly desert and scrubland, with low, rolling hills. But as I followed him along a gully between two of those hills, more and more green appeared, along with a little trickle of water. We hiked along the stream for about half an hour until we reached a small, round pond that gave off wisps of steam.
“A hot spring!” I exclaimed with delight. Horse looked smug as I ran to the edge, reaching down to trail my fingers through the water. “How did you know about this? I grew up around here and I’ve never heard of this place.”
“I know all kinds of interesting things you don’t,” he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. I snickered. But I stopped laughing and started running when he dropped the picnic stuff and lunged toward me. I screeched and giggled as he caught me from behind, pulling me back to the ground on top of him and tickling me. He lay on his back, arms around my chest, legs around mine, and held me in place as he reached down for the hem of my tee. He jerked it up and over my head, pausing to tickle me again every few seconds.
Then his hands went down to the fastening of my jeans.
“Don’t you dare!” I yelled, but he just laughed and ripped them open. He got them loose and pushed them down over my hips. At that, I bucked hard and he let me go, which pitched me forward. Before I could even think he was on me from behind, jerking my jeans down my legs. He stood up, holding them out of my reach triumphantly.
“You’re gonna pay for that!” I yelled, still laughing. I stopped laughing though and started running as he dropped the jeans and lunged toward me again. That worked just about as well as it had the first time, which was not at all. He caught me up and threw me over his shoulder, carrying me over to the spring, giving my butt a little smack, saying, “Quiet, woman.”
I screamed “No!” before I hit the water with a splash.
It was like jumping into a hot tub—not too deep, but deep enough I wasn’t in any danger. I surfaced, scowling at him and dropping my head back into the water to get the hair out of my face. Then I popped back up to glare at him some more.
Horse doubled over laughing at me.
I splashed him as hard as I could, which made him laugh more, then turned away to pout.
Mistake.
The splash he made jumping in nearly knocked me over, and then his arms came around me, pulling my back into the curve of his body. He’d stripped down to his boxers. His hands slid over me, stroking my curves, and I melted.
“Baby, you’re cute when you’re wet,” he whispered in my ear, sliding a finger down into my panties. He pushed my bra down with the other hand, rolling my nipple between his fingers as he toyed with my clit. I shuddered and arched my back as he flicked his finger faster and faster, playing me like a guitar. I guess I’d been in a constant state of arousal all morning, because I came like a firecracker.
“Holy shit…” I moaned, collapsing against him.
He kissed the back of my neck, then turned me around to face him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck, kissing him with everything I had. This time it was my tongue taking over his mouth as I dug my fingers through his hair. My bra was pushed down below my breasts, nipples chafing against his chest, and everything between us was all wet and slippery and delicious.
Finally he pulled away, sucking in a deep breath. I used the opportunity to reach down between us and grab his cock. He loosened his arms, making it easier for me to reach, and I pushed the fabric of his boxers down below the length of his erection. I cupped the underside of his penis, drawing the heel of my hand up and down along the edge of the ridge around the head.

Joanna Wylde's Books