Page 109 of Jesse's Girl

She tilts her head. “Yeah, I guess I could drive.”

“Actually,” I say, showing her the website for the rental place on my phone. “I was kinda thinking about riding into the city.” I’d been toying with the idea of renting a motorbike sometime this summer. It’s been years since I sold my bike and I miss it; this trip with Marcus falling through is the perfect excuse for a ride.

“Since when do you ride a motorcycle?” She picks up her cereal bowl and leans back against the kitchen counter with amused skepticism.

“I got into dirt biking in Australia. Got my license there and had a bike for a few years.”

“Uh, okay,” she says, eyeing me. “Putting a pin in that whole”—she pauses and gestures vaguely at my face—“revelation… You want me to ride on the back of your motorcycle?”

I laugh. “Yes! What’s the big deal?”

“Where would I even get a helmet and gear and stuff?” She finishes the last of her cereal and sets her bowl beside the sink.

“The rental place has all that.”

She squints at me, clearly unconvinced. “Don’t you need a special class of license or something?”

I wave off her concern. “Got an international one for Thailand. It’s valid here.” I step toward her and slip my hands over her waist, pulling her close. “Come on. It’ll be fun.” Dropping my voice low, I add, “I kinda like the idea of you wrapped around me on the bike.”

“Mmm,” she hums. “Alright. Sold.”

“Yeah? You wanna be my backpack?” With a playful growl, I scoop her up into a hug, and she wraps her legs around my waist with a smile. I kiss her and set her down on the kitchen counter. When our lips part, she tucks her hands under the hem of my T-shirt and slides them over my lower back.

“Whatcha thinking about?” I ask, noticing the far-off look on her face.

She snaps back to meet my gaze with a smirk. “Just picturing you on a motorcycle.”

“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow.

She smiles and bites her lip. “I don’t hate it.”

I run my hands up over her thighs and kiss her again. “Then we should get going. So you can see the real thing. Y’know… for science.”

“I love science,” she says, tracing her fingers around my waistband.

“So we should… get to the… rental… place.” I gesture vaguely over my shoulder, sucking in a breath as her fingers continue their path over my hips and stomach.

“Probably should.” She grins back at me, then turns to glance at the clock on the stove. “How much time do we have?”

Following her gaze, I dig my fingers into her thighs and force myself to step back. “Not enough for whatever you’re scheming.”

“Oh? Well, then, too bad you’ll never find out what I was scheming.” She hops down off the counter.

I slap her ass as she walks past. “You’re gonna be fucking adorable in that helmet.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is badass.”

The ride into the city is over too quickly. Oppressive August heat be damned, I can’t get enough of Ada pressed against my back. The way her fingers brush small strokes against my stomach while we sail down the highway has my dick half-hard and my chest feeling open in a way I haven’t felt in months. It’s intimate—both hot and sweet—and I don’t want her to stop. And when she hugs me tighter… Fuck. The press of her fingers lights me up. I reach down to squeeze her hand, the action saying everything I can barely admit to myself, let alone say out loud.

As the open highway gives way to busier city streets, I pull up at a red light and reach back, tracing slow strokes over Ada’s calf. I’ve been batting around this idea in my head the entire ride, but… fuck it; I twist around to face her. Raising my voice so she can hear me through the helmet and the din of traffic around us, I call out, “There’s somewhere I want to take you before Claire’s.”

“Where?” she calls back.

“It’s a surprise. You trust me?”

She nods.

I turn back around, smiling to myself as I release the clutch and hit the throttle when the light turns green. After a few blocks, I hang a left and cruise along Rainier Drive, catching our reflection jumping across shop windows out of the corner of my eye. As we round a cluster of office buildings on the outskirts of downtown Seattle, an oasis of green parkland comes into view and I pull off the main road. We follow the winding driveway through the trees and gardens and eventually end up in front of a historic stone building. I park the bike, tugging off my helmet. When I feel Ada climb off behind me, I follow suit, running my free hand through my sweat-damp hair.

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