Page 105 of Root

Dante swishes his tail and jumps from my bed, stalking out of the room, which is fair enough.

When I step outside again, I stop.

Jess is there, running her hand over my bike.

I don’t get to take it out as much as I’d like, but I keep it looking good.

She looks at me. “Nice lady you got, Rush.”

“She’s pretty fine.”

“Pity you don’t ride her.”

I come right up. “I ride her and she purrs.”

“Sure you do.”

“Come on,” I say on a whim, “go for a ride?”

She grins, holds out her hand. “As long as I’m the one driving.”

Horror grips me, and now I know how Nikolai feels about me always wanting to drive his fucking Stingray. He loves that fucking car.

“Not on your life, Jess,” I say.

She smirks. “Try and stop me.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jess

His motorbike does purr. It’s gorgeous and it’s no hobby bike. I can tell by the smoothness of the grips that would fit his hands, gloved or ungloved. By how they’re worn, probably gloved.

The black and chrome beast’s a panther on wheels, and it hugs the road like its cold butter. It’s so responsive that I’m half turned on by the bike, as well as him as he sits behind me.

There’s a place on the outskirts of Queenstown, a lookout, I guess, but one that isn’t really known about, because all the times I’ve been there, I haven’t seen anyone else. Maybe because it takes a while to reach it and teens are impatient creatures.

I don’t know, I don’t care, but I take us there.

For many reasons.

If by chance Brutus got away for any amount of time, he’d have hidden something here.

It’s a pretty night.

Me. And Rush. Alone.

Actually, I don’t know if it’s the smartest or stupidest idea I’ve had.

But when I reach the clearing, I park, push down the kickstand, pull off my helmet, and go to get off.

His helmet hits the grass as his arm slides around my waist. “Where are you going, Jessie?”

“Let go,” I say, trying to scoot free.

His other hand comes up to smooth over my thigh and it feels good.

Everything about him always feels good. I lean back, knowing I should be getting myself free of his touch. Instead, I wiggle back a little and he’s hard.