Where Lightning Strikes (Bleeding Stars #3)(37)

“Yep.” I stepped outside and locked the door behind us. “Care to tell me what I’m ready for?”

“Well, to get things started, I have a little surprise for you. Thought after that, we’d give the normal couple thing a whirl and grab a bite to eat.” He shrugged. “Then I figured we’d head back to my apartment and make out like teenagers.”

Leaning in close, he whispered in my ear. “Maybe if you’re up for it, I’ll make you come.”

Tingles touched me everywhere.

Desire I’d never expected to feel.

Security I’d never thought I’d find.

And again I loved he didn’t tiptoe. Loved he didn’t treat me as if I were breakable. As if I would fall apart with one wrong look. I struggled to maintain casualness. The tease. “Wow, guess you find no need to beat around the bush. You seem awful sure about yourself, rock star.”

Easy laughter rumbled through the air and thrummed through my chest. He wrapped both his arms around my waist, making me sigh, and he tugged me against him. With a glimmer in his eyes, he raked his teeth over his bottom lip. “What, you’d rather go back to your place? I’m okay with that.”

“Oh, you think this is about location? I was thinking more about your ability to please.”

“Baby, I know all about location. And there’s no question about my ability to please. You just let me know when you’re ready for it.”

My own laughter rolled, and I wound an arm around his neck. It felt too easy. Too good. The two of us batting back and forth. Though now it was done without an ounce of the animosity it’d held before. I blinked up at him with wide eyes. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

He gave me a grin I felt rock the earth, before his expression shifted. It filled with a softness I was just coming to recognize in this man. He ran his fingers through my hair, his head tipped back enough to fully take me in. “Thank you.”

My throat tightened, and I felt the crease form on my brow. “For what?”

He glanced away, as if he were struggling, before looking back. “For trusting me. It’s been a long time since someone has.”

He seemed to shake himself off, and he took a step back, grabbed the helmet he’d left waiting on the ground, and extended his hand. “Come on, let’s go or we’re going to be late.”

“Late, huh? Should I start making guesses at where you’re taking me?”

“Nope.” He glanced back at me as he led me down the exterior stairs. “Have you ever been on a bike before?”

A pang hit me hard and I stumbled a step. I forced it down and buried it where it belonged. “Yeah…a few times.”

Back when I was brave and believed the world was at my feet. Back before he’d ruthlessly brought me to kneel at his.

“Good…then I won’t have to go easy on you, Red,” Lyrik said with mischief.

A light chuckle rolled from me. Not that I ever imagined this boy would.

In front of his bike, he turned to me and placed the open-faced helmet on my head. Those eyes flicked all over my face as he worked the straps under my chin. Taking my hand again, he straddled the bike, his long legs stretched wide for balance, the man so intensely beautiful for a moment it stuttered my heart.

I sucked in a steadying breath. He never let me go as he guided me to climb on behind him.

I trembled a little when I did, old memories coming fast, just as fast as my downfall had. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around Lyrik’s waist and pressed my nose into his T-shirt right below his neck. Breathed in his severity. His heat. His danger. And somehow I didn’t feel scared.

He kicked the engine over, and his Harley rumbled to life. Gleaming chrome vibrated with power. A little like the man at its helm. “Hold on tight,” he yelled as he tucked me closer, his hand protective on my thigh. Right over the serpent tattoo he seemed a little obsessed with.

Temptation.

This tattoo had come later.

I got it as a reminder of how easily we can be blinded by the things we might want. By the things that might not necessarily be good for us.

Like that extra piece of candy I had always wanted that my mother would have warned would be too much because it might cause a belly ache or rot my teeth.

Lyrik rolled us back with his feet, before he took to the street.

And I knew I was defenseless to this temptation. Whatever path he led me down, I would follow, whether he would hurt or heal.

Somehow I knew he would bring me both.

The bike ate up the road as Lyrik traversed the quaint Savannah streets. Heat blasted at my face and the engine roared. Shade blinked across my eyes, the trees tall and proud and offering their relief from the intense summer warmth. Still, I blistered with it, my insides on fire, my skin alive, as I held on to this menacing boy as he took me for a ride.

Wherever he wanted me to go.

Trust.

It was a precarious thing. But it was there.

Five minutes later, he eased into a parallel parking spot running the street in the Historic District not that far from our apartments. The sign hanging outside the shop on the ground floor of the old building directly in front of us boasted it’s offering.

Tattoos.

A stir of unease twisted through my stomach.

Lyrik helped me off, and I just waited while he unfastened my helmet and hooked it over the handlebar.