Page 82 of Claiming Their Omega

“My turn?” I watch as he turns off the bike, puts up the kickstand, and gets off. “Riding on the back with you should be enough, right?”

“I could feel you enjoying it,” Hendrix agrees, his voice a purr. He says it like we’re doing something much more intimate and sexual than riding a motorcycle together, like he’s got his fingers inside me and knows how wet I am, purring at me I can feel you enjoying it.

My face flushes.

Hendrix grins at me knowingly, then gestures at the bike. “Go on, scoot up. I’ll sit behind you. If anything goes wrong I can grab the handles and take over. It’ll be easy especially since you’re smaller than I am. My arms and legs can move past yours.”

If this was just about any other scenario I’d argue that I could do it all myself and don’t need a man—or anyone—to be ready to take over like that. But this isn’t the usual scenario. I’m grateful for how considerate he is. “I don’t know.”

“Come on, you got this. You’ll be good at it. It’s easier than you think. It’s like riding a horse, except the horse isn’t alive so it can’t pull little tricks like hold its breath in so the straps on the saddles are too loose.”

I laugh. “You’ve had a horse do that?”

“Oh, it’s a common trick if they’re not in the mood. They hold their breath so you get the straps nice and tight, then they exhale, all the air goes out of them, their lungs deflate, and the straps are now too loose and you fall off.” He chuckles. “They’re clever that way. They think it’s hysterical.”

The image of Hendrix getting tricked by a grumpy, playful horse has me grinning. “Well, all right.”

There is a part of me that wants to try this. To show myself that nothing can get to me, no fear can conquer me. And, well, Hendrix believes in me. He thinks I’m a badass. I don’t want to let him down. I want to be the confident, fearless woman that he sees.

I move forward so that I’m in front, and Hendrix seats himself behind me. I jolt a little when his hands land on my thighs.

He rubs his hands up and down my thighs, squeezing them, before his fingertips graze the spot right between my legs. I squeak out a breath as goosebumps race across my skin.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he murmurs in my ear. “I promise that riding a bike can feel just as good. Or almost as good, anyway.”

I nod, biting my lip against a smile even as nerves flutter in my stomach. After the amazing sex I had with all of the Alphas during my heat, I have to admit that Hendrix’s argument is pretty convincing. If he really thinks riding a bike is almost as fun as sex, it has to be pretty thrilling then, right?

“Turn that engine on, darlin’.”

I do as I’m told, jolting a little as it roars to life. Hendrix nips at my neck. “Feel the vibrations? Lean forward a little, and they’ll rub right… against…”

Oh god. I squirm a bit as I do as I’m told, feeling the vibrations ripple through my core.

“Take her for a ride,” he murmurs encouragingly, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time. I’ve got you. I promise.”

This time, I can’t stop my smile from breaking free. I’m sort of grateful that he’s sitting behind me, so he can’t see me grinning like an idiot at his words. I nod, giving his forearm a quick squeeze before I push the kickstand back, following Hendrix’s murmured instructions. The fear I felt at first is beginning to fade away, replaced by a rush of excitement.

I take off, and soon we’re flying down the road.

Well, ‘flying’ is a bit of an exaggeration. I don’t go over thirty. Hendrix puts a hand over mine on the throttle at one point, guiding me, and I can feel him using his weight to shift our balance a few times, correcting for when I shift too far the wrong way. I’ll need practice.

But it’s fun. It’s sexy. And just like he promised, Hendrix is with me the entire time, the warmth of his body against my back a steadying, reassuring presence as he gives me little tips and pointers here and there. We ride for close to thirty minutes, and the longer it goes on, the less shaky my arms feel as I grip the handlebars.

I’m feeling pretty darn confident by the time we finally take a break. Hendrix instructs me on how to pull the bike over and cut the engine, and then he hops off first before offering me a hand to help me off the bike too.

We rest in the grass for a while, enjoying the breeze and watching the clouds go by.

“You’re good at that,” I note.

Hendrix glances over at me, one hand resting behind his head. “At what? Riding a bike?”

“Well, yeah, you’re good at that for sure. But I meant coaching me through the whole… fear thing.”

“Ah.” He gives me a little smile, his expression softening. “I’m glad I could help. Because I know firsthand how fear can hold you back. I get it.”

I stare at him. “You do?” I can’t imagine Hendrix being scared of anything.

He nods. “Yeah. You know I used to be on the rodeo circuit, right?”

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