Page 23 of Brazen Deceits

He shrugs. “I usually just run aimlessly around the neighborhood if I want to go for a run. Do you have a distance in mind?”

“Nah. I’m done training for anything until spring.” I glance up and down the street, trying to figure out a destination. “Honestly, I kind of want to go look at pretty houses.”

RJ shoots me a grin. “We can do that. Want to head over to the lakes?”

I think through the selection of lakes on the west side of Minneapolis, picking the route with the nicest houses and the right distance for us both to run together. “Lake of the Isles has the best mansions, but it’s less than three miles around.”

“We could always continue on to Bde Maka Ska or Cedar Lake if we want to run farther,” he says.

I bounce on my toes, excited to travel some new ground. “Let’s do it.”

RJ grins. “Sounds good. I’ll go get my key. Meet you in back?”

“Sure thing.” I rush through the house to RJ’s motorcycle parked between the fence and Trips’ huge pickup truck.

The last time I was on his bike, I didn’t have a chance to really look at it. This time, I want to know what I’m riding on. Unfortunately, it’s covered by a locked bag-thing, so Ihave to wait for RJ.

RJ slips up behind me, handing me a green helmet and a black helmet to hold before he drops and uncovers the bike. The body is sleek, like what I’d imagine a racing bike looks like, black with neon green details. There is a small hump for the passenger on the back. Looking at it, I’m practically vibrating thinking about going for a ride on it. Last time I was running high on fear and adrenaline. This time, I’m going to make sure I have fun.

RJ walks the bike out into the alley before snagging the black helmet and sliding it over his curls. I try to push my head into the green helmet and immediately realize that my high ponytail is a problem. I yank the thing off, pull out my ponytail and toss in a quick low braid, then try again. Much better. Once the helmet’s settled, RJ palms my head before climbing onto the bike, turning the key and pressing a button before giving the bike a warm-up rev. His visor turns toward me, and I hear his voice clearly in my ear. “Hop on.”

I grin, throwing my leg over behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. Last time, he’d had on his leather jacket—this time, we’re both in running gear, the warmth of his body and mine immediately merging in all the places we are pressed together.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice shooting into an intercom system in the helmets.

“Ready,” I say, a grin of anticipation tight across my cheeks.

The bike rockets down the alleyway, likely no faster than a car, but with the late fall wind cutting through my long sleeve shirt and running tights, it feels like we’re flying. I giggle, the excitement escaping as we whip around the corner. The roar of the engine reverberates through my body, the hum of mytwice thwarted orgasm immediately ramping up again. Well, damn.

RJ’s laugh trickles into my ear, mellow and smooth, flowing through me, amplifying the rumble of the bike between my legs. “Lean with me into turns, okay?”

“Got it,” I say, as the purr of the bike teases me higher.

Shit. I thought I had this under control. I need to focus on something else. My guilt hops in like a dog eager for a car ride, and I just decide to roll with it. It’s either that or I come pressed up against RJ’s back. And I’m not going to scare him away with a poorly timed orgasm.

“Thanks,” I force out.

“For what?”

My guilt goes into overdrive, pushing my pending orgasm further away. I can’t thank him for letting me date his friends, or for not making a big deal about me avoiding him. After the last few weeks, I’m counting myself lucky that he even wants to go running with me. “I guess for your patience. I know I haven’t been available much lately.”

He presses his hand against my arms wrapped around his middle, a comforting squeeze, before latching back onto the handlebars. “You needed time. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m here whenever you need me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere either.”

“Excellent,” he says before gunning the bike onto the freeway, the road nearly empty this early on the weekend. I squeal, unable to keep my excitement locked in, my heart racing from the speed, the risk, the vibrations, and the trickles of electricity shuttling between RJ and me.

I ride the edge of orgasm the rest of the way across town, and we pull up next to the running path at the lake without me embarrassing us both. Someday in the future, though? If things work out the way I hope, maybe I’ll get to demonstrate exactly how much I love riding with RJ.

I stumble off before RJ pops the bike up on the kickstand, his running shorts and long sleeve shirt making an awkward pairing with his monster sport bike. We get a few looks from rich people walking tiny dogs, especially after we both pull off our helmets, RJ’s natural curls a little flat on the top. But rich people can just live with the cognitive dissonance of the situation, right? We’re not bothering anyone; we’re just doing our thing.

With that settled, even if only in my mind, I shake out some of my buzz before I switch from a braid back to a high ponytail, taking longer than necessary. RJ stores the helmets while he waits on me, locking them to the foot pegs with a metal loop.

The air is sparkling this morning, frost dotting the red and gold fallen leaves that line the path, cooling me down further. Taking in the mostly naked trees surrounding the long, narrow lake, I pick a safe topic. “I can’t believe Halloween is this week.”

“I know. Wednesday. Do you have any plans?”

I do a few high knee hops to kick out the rest of my anxious need. “I’m working closing shift at the coffee shop, and I have class at noon on Thursday, so I’m not sure I should risk it. You?”

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