Page 55 of Sin Bin

Don’t have to tell me twice! she thought, locking her arms around him as he flipped up the kickstand with his booted heel and eased the bike forward.

Excitement and nerves bubbled in her stomach as he drove out of the neighborhood and pulled onto the main road. Her breasts were flattened against his broad back, her hands pressed flat against his stomach. She could feel his rock-hard abs flexing as he maneuvered the big motorcycle. He had to be totally ripped under his sweater.

As he picked up speed, she squeezed her eyes shut like she did on roller coasters. Her heart was pounding like crazy. From fear, adrenaline or Logan’s intoxicating body heat, she couldn’t be sure.

He called back to her, “Open your eyes, Jupiter!”

“How do you know they’re closed?” she called back.

“’Cause I know you!”

That made her grin. She cracked her eyes open, then gasped at the scenery rushing past her, a visual barrage of bright lights and passing buildings and bouncing high beams on the other side of the road.

“Hang on tight!” Logan told her.

As he charged the air with a roar of the engine, she let out an exhilarated squeal.

His deep laugh rumbled through her.

She clung tighter to him, her thighs squeezing his firm, round butt. Her pulse roared in her head as the wind whipped her hair at the base of her helmet. She found herself gasping and laughing as the motorcycle tore up the winding curves of a two-lane highway, that famous Harley engine ripping through the night.

The air was cold and her eyes were watering behind her glasses. But that didn’t stop her from pushing up the visor on her helmet and gulping down sweet mouthfuls of wind. She felt more alive than she’d ever felt in her life.

She wasn’t familiar with Denver, so she had no clue where they were going. But it didn’t matter. She was just along for the ride, not counting the miles that slipped away.

Logan got off the highway and started taking back roads, thundering past open fields with the Rocky Mountains looming to the west. Soon he turned onto a gravelly dirt road and eased off the gas as they came to a secluded lake that was half concealed by a grove of towering cottonwood trees.

He slowed to a stop, killed the motor and took off his helmet. “Here we are.”

Grinning and breathless, Meadow climbed off the bike on wobbly legs and removed her helmet.

Logan grinned, watching her comb her fingers through her wind-tossed hair. “See? Wasn’t that fun?”

“I suppose.” She shrugged, trying to play it cool when inside she was still riding an adrenaline high like no other. “You didn’t kill me, so you definitely get points for that.”

Logan laughed at her. “You know you loved every moment.”

She giggled and handed over her helmet, then pushed her glasses up her nose and looked around. “This your spot?”

“Yeah. I come here sometimes to clear my head and think.” He levered the kickstand down and leaned the bike’s weight onto it. Then he got off, pulled a rolled blanket from the back and held out his hand to her. “C’mon.”

She let him take her hand and lead her down to the stand of massive old cottonwoods bordering the lake. At the water’s edge he spread the blanket on the grass. They sat down side by side, close but not close enough for their legs to touch.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” Meadow whispered, feeling enchanted. “So peaceful and quiet.”

“Isn’t it?” Logan smiled in the moonlight. “No one ever comes here. It’s like my own personal hideaway.”

“Awesome.” Meadow gave him a sidelong smile. “It’s crazy how I never knew that you were part Latino and fluent in Spanish. I never heard you speak it at the group home.”

“I didn’t. Not really. My mother didn’t speak Spanish nearly as often as Santino does. That’s what we mostly spoke in his household. Even his American wife was fluent. Every summer when we visited his family in the Dominican Republic, days could go by without any of us speaking a lick of English.”

Meadow grinned. “Really?”

“Really.” One corner of Logan’s mouth quirked up. “I remember when Santino and I started meeting with sports agents. Whenever he got a bad feeling about one of them, he’d break into Spanish so the guy wouldn’t know what he was saying. It was all I could do to keep a straight face.”

Meadow laughed. “That definitely sounds like Mr. Tavárez. He was such a character.”

“Still is.” Logan grinned.

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