Page 18 of Elusive

I’ve missed this, and haven’t felt so alive in too long… until he makes a right onto Acorn Street. I pinch his stomach, hard, as he dares to pull over… in front of my apartment! I’m struggling to get my damn helmet off, ready to throw a fit of epic proportions, when he turns to help me.

“What’s with the scowl? You didn’t like it?” He asks, disappointment evident.

“Are you insane? Why would you think that?”

“Because you were ripping the skin off my stomach?”

“Okay, first of all, I wasn’t ripping anything, Nancy. And second, why the hell are we here?”

“I don’t understand this question either. Where else would we be? You’re always pretty adamant I take you straight home.”

“Not when I’m promised a ride on your bike! Sutton Ellis, if you think that little ten-minutejaunt counts as aride, you are sadly mistaken. I waited a long time for this, I want my money’s worth.”

“Damn, Boss, all you had to do was say so. Let it never be said I left ya wanting more.” He smirks, chuckling as he lowers my helmet back down.

When we take off again, I melt into him, settling in nice and close for a long trip. He heads West, out of town, toward country that still feels like country. No stop-and-go traffic or lights, just open road that curves its way to the lake. The longer we wind along dark, tree-lined backroads, the stronger a certain exhilarated passion builds inside me, and soon, my hand’s sneaking under his shirt to pinch his bare stomach.

He finds the perfect place to park — an off-the-beaten-path spot that overlooks the water — the atmosphere and its vibe only ramping up my desire more. So much so, that by the time both our helmets are off, I’m breathing in heavy, uneven effort.

“How was that? Better?” He asks over his shoulder, that I’m using as a brace while finding ground.

“Much.”

“Need to stretch your legs?”

“Somethin’ like that.” I stretch my leg alright, up and over, his seamless help placing me right where I was headed — face-to-face with him, straddling his lap.

“Presley…”

I trace a fingertip over the growl in his throat. “Hmm?”

“You better be sure, and make up your mind real damn quick, ‘cause if you really want me to quit trying, this isn’t the way to go about it.”

I should listen. Heed his warning. Stop sending mixed signals. Rein it in, agree, and ask him to take me home.

I should do anything other than kiss him.

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