Page 63 of Deck the Fire Halls

It was a little bit domineering and a whole lot of hot.

My breath caught. My heart thumped so hard it almost hurt. His lips, his body, his hands... I wanted more. Needed it.

And then he pulled back with a frustrated groan. “We’re going out on the bike,” he mumbled. “This is medoing the right thing. I’m not going to take you to bed. I’m taking you out on the bike. It’s going to be fun.” He took a step back. “Which is why I’m all the way over here.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed, dazed and happy. “It’s kinda crazy, huh? This.” I gestured between us. “Phew.”

He nodded. “Glad it’s not just me.”

“It’s really not just you.”

He stared at me, then shook his head and whined as he went to the back door and held it open. “This is me doing the right thing again. Leaving the house and being a gentleman.”

I laughed and went out onto his back deck. The fact he wanted me, that he felt this undeniable sexual energy between us too, it was such a heady feeling.

I felt giddy.

I felt... happier than I’d felt in a long, long time.

His bike was out of the shed, two helmets on the seat, and... oh, dear god, I’m getting on a motorbike.

My nerves were starting to feel a lot like anxiety and regret.

“Um,” I said. “I’m not sure about this.”

Soren picked up one of the helmets and stood in front of me. “If you hate it or don’t feel safe, just tap my leg and I’ll bring you straight back. But just try it.”

The fact he acknowledged my fear and gave me an easy out was reassuring. The fact he wanted me to at least try was the least I could do.

I nodded. “Okay.”

His grin made my already-pounding heart squeeze. He pecked my lips before putting the helmet on me andfixing the strap. He checked it for size and fit. “How does that feel?”

I wobbled my head and it didn’t move around. “Fine.”

He gave me a quick rundown of the bike, like where to put my feet and where to watch for the heat of the exhaust, then put his own helmet on, completing the whole hot-as-hell look. He slid his leg over the bike, straddling it, and it did visceral things to my body.

He patted the seat behind him. “You gonna get on or just stare at me all day?”

I stepped closer. “It’s not my fault you look so hot right now. My brain stops working.” He laughed and put down the visor on my helmet. I slid my leg over, sitting right behind him. As in, right behind him. Flush against his ass, my thighs on the outside of his. “Oh.”

He took my hands and pulled me closer, my palms on his flat stomach. “Hold onto me.”

Well, this was certainly cozy.

But then he turned the key and pressed a button by his throttle. The bike started but it didn’t sound like a Harley...

“It’s just the starter,” he said, loud enough for me to hear.

Then he pressed another button, and the bike rumbled to life. There was a reason they called Harley’s a chopper—they sounded just like one.

Despite the nerves and anxiety, I was smiling.

It was thrilling! And I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this. That this was my life now. Just a few weeks ago, I was a burned-out zombie, ready to walk away.

Now I was on a Harley Davidson-riding date with afirefighter who was so far out of my league, who for some strange reason, wanted to be with me.

Soren looked down, checking my feet were on the right pegs, tapped my hands on his belly, and rode us out of his driveway. It was barely at a walking pace, very safe, but the thrill it gave me...

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