Page 34 of Priest

I shake my head. “I’ll be fine.”

“My sled’s right outside.”

I frown. “Sled?”

He smiles, his eyes softening. “My motorcycle.”

Of course he rides a motorcycle. That’s so freaking hot.

“You expect me to get on a motorcycle?”

“It’s a Harley, you’ll be fine.”

I laugh and his eyes crinkle as we head for the door. “That makes it okay?”

“I’m a good driver. It’s other people you gotta watch out for.”

When we get to the curb, my eyes go wide at the sight of the beautiful machine in front of me.

“Wow, that’s your sled?” I laugh at the word.

He chuckles. “You like it?”

“It’s pretty.”

He snorts. “Pretty? And here I was thinkin’ it was badass all along.”

“It looks brand new.”

“It’s a nineteen-sixty-eight Shovelhead. Fully restored. I recently reconnected with my dad and he helped me.”

“Wow, did that take long?”

“I started it five years ago,” he chuckles. “Then last year, when my dad was back on the scene, he helped with the paint job, chrome and aluminum correction, new rims and the detailed finishes which he’s an expert at. He’s a diesel mechanic, but can fix anything.”

The Shovelhead has bright gold mud flaps and a beautiful cross with flames billowing behind in a deeper shade of orange and red. I don’t know much about bikes, but this is a beauty. He stares at it like it’s his baby and that makes me happy.

“And I’m betting it goes fast?”

He lets go of my hand, but he places it on the small of my back instead. “You bet. But I won’t be goin’ fast with you on the back.”

I shouldn’t feel the flutter again in my stomach, but I can’t help it. Priest is doing things to me; things that he shouldn’t be, and I feel the pulse between my legs.

“You’re a spoil sport.”

He grins, reaching into one of the side pockets where he pulls out a helmet. “You’ll need to wear this. It’ll be a little big.” I let him fit it onto my head and he adjusts it.

I let him. I love him touching me, even if it is just his fingers brushing over my skin every now and again. It feels more intimate than it probably is, but I don’t care.

I’m captivated by him.

“Isn’t this your helmet?”

“Yes, but I didn’t have time to grab another one. I’ll be fine, my place isn’t far.”

A thrill goes through me again when I think about going to his home.

I imagine all of the things; what it will look like. Is he tidy or messy? What area of town it’s in and then there’s the bedding situation. I feel that pull again in my lower belly when I think about where Priest sleeps.

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