Page 45 of Take What You Want

I swing my leg over the bike and settle into the familiar seat. The leather is soft and broken-in from the years of use.

I was eighteen when I got my first bike, but I sold it only a few months later after I moved to LA. It didn’t feel right when Ibrought it there. Like a piece of what made it special was missing and I was too dumb at the time to realize what it was.

And as Jane slips behind me and wraps her arms around my waist, her front melting into my back with heat that has nothing to do with the warm, sunny day, it all feels right again.

Her fingers interlock against my abs, and I flex them slightly, not ashamed about wanting to show off a little bit.

“Don’t let go of me, remember?” I ask, craning my neck to look at her.

She squeezes her arms, and though her words are muffled by her helmet, I hear them loud and clear.

“I remember.”

“I can’t believeI let you talk me into this!” Jane squeals in my ear, and I chuckle as I rev the engine. Her arms are in a viselike grip around my waist and her thick thighs squeeze my hips, bracketing me in with her warmth. I gently pat her knee and look over my shoulder at her.

“You’re not the only persuasive one.” I flick her visor down before she can respond, then do the same to mine, and take off down the street.

She yelps as we pick up speed, the bike purring beneath our thighs. The wind pushes against us like an invisible wall that we cut through easily as I weave us down the backroads that I frequent.

Fuck, I love the rush of this. The sense of danger as I round a bend and my bike tilts to the side, gravity trying to pull medown. But with Jane wrapped around me, I slow into the turns and take them gentler than I usually do.

Precious cargo and all.

The road ahead and surrounding fields are dark as the sun dips below the horizon. But that doesn’t stop the light sheen of sweat from coating my back beneath my jacket.

Jane’s hands burn through my jacket and her gloves, setting my skin on fire. I shift, everything feeling too tight, but it does nothing to alleviate the ache.

“You okay?” she yells.

I nod, not taking my eyes off the road. She’s a damn distraction, and if I turn to look at her, I won’t want to look away.

It feels right having her behind me. Having her weight lean into mine, her arms holding me tight, her scent mixing with the summer air.

Unable to resist, I let go of one of the handles on a straightaway and squeeze her thigh. She clenches them around me, and I smirk.

“You doing okay?” I return her question.

A brief pause, a shift of her body, and then a muffled, “Yep.”

It could be the wind, but I think she sounded a little breathless. A sweep of satisfaction whooshes through me that I can bring that out in her a second time now.

We continue riding for a few more minutes, before I sense her restlessness and get tired of stifling my own.

Slowing down, I pull us over in an empty parking lot and turn off the bike. The moment I get it in place, Jane jumps off and whips her helmet over her head. Large chunks of hair stick to her forehead, and she swipes them back before I have the chance to.

“That was amazing!” Her eyes sparkle with excitement in the orange light of the streetlight.

“Yeah?” I stand and stretch.

“I mean, terrifying, but I get why you like it. It’s like a scarier version of a roller coaster.”

I chuckle, and she playfully punches my shoulder.

Before she can pull away, I snatch her hand and pull her flush to me. She lets out a small gasp as her breath hitches. I brush my thumb over the bare skin between her jacket sleeve and glove, needing to get closer.

“Does that mean you want to go again?”

“Absolutely not. You can take me home but this was another one-and-done situation between us.”

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