Page 82 of Sass

He snorted. “The idea’s growing on me.”

I laughed. “Hardly a ringing endorsement. Are you sure you can’t muster just a tad more enthusiasm?”

He went up on his toes and kissed me again, this time in full view of half the car park. “Is that better?”

I wiggled my hand between us in an effort to hide my shock. “Six out of ten.”

His eyes popped. “It’s a fucking monumental landmark in my life, honey, worthy of at least a 9.5.” He prodded my chest, forcing me to step back. “Unless I’m groping someone in a club for a quick fuck, I don’t do public displays ofanything. You won the fucking lottery buster, and you don’t even know it.” He huffed and turned on his heels, but I grabbed him around the waist and spun him back into my arms.

He didn’t struggle.

Raucous cheers broke from the car and I was reminded we had an audience.

“Oh, I knowexactlyhow lucky I am.” I held his gaze so that he couldn’t misunderstand. “I’m in this one hundred percent. Iwantyou. You’re scrappy, mouthy, sharp as a tack, and pretty damn wonderful. And we’re good together.”

His brows knotted. “I know. That’s what’s so fucking scary.”

I tucked a lock of hair behind his ears. “I’m scared too.”

“That I’ll change my mind about giving us a try?”

“No.” I shrugged. “About younotchanging your mind. And about everything that might entail. About falling harder than I already am for you. About falling in... love. About not being good enough to keep you. About making a commitment,anydamn commitment.”

He stared at me, eyes shining. “I thought it was just me.”

I pulled him tight against me. “No, it’s not just you. I spend half my time terrified you won’t want me, and the other half terrified you will and whether I can live up to that. We’ve been dancing around each other for over two years. Let me in and I’ll work damn hard to make sure it won’t ever be just you.”

His hot breath washed over my neck and he reached up and tugged on my beard, then flattened his hand along my jaw. “I’m trying.”

“I know you are.” I leaned back so I could look in his eyes. “You said your uncle taught you to ride a bike?”

His eyes narrowed. “Yes. I got my licence not long after I left home. It was cheap transport. But I haven’t ridden for years.”

“You wanna try the Harley?”

He stared at me. “Me? Ride your Harley? Are you fucking crazy?” His palm lay flat across my forehead. “Are you sick?”

I laughed and handed him his helmet. “I’m not saying I’ll let you loose on it. There’s a quiet country road to the left, back before we hit the highway. You can have your first lesson. Are you game?”

His eyes blew wide with delight, and he slugged me on the arm. “Am I game to have a mountain of raw power between my thighs? Pfft. It’s like you don’t even know me. Get on that bike, mister. And did I mention you were getting laid tonight?” He tugged me toward the bike.

“Once or twice.” I straddled the Harley, and its engine leapt into life between my legs.

The guys in the car cheered.

“Well, you can cancel that idea.” Chris jumped up behind me and shouted in my ear. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you is what I’m gonna do. You won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

I laughed and reached back to rap my knuckles twice on his helmet. “I’m counting on it.”

“Damn right.” Chris wrapped one arm around my waist and threw his other over my shoulder, pointing out of the carpark. “That-a-way.”

* * *

It may not have been the smartest idea to offer to teach Chris to ride the Harley in the middle of nowhere, but the road was sleepy quiet, and what the idea lacked in common sense, it more than made up for in the killer smile that split his face the first time he managed to get a few metres on his own. At the beginning, he could barely hold my baby upright and I spent a lot of time stopping them both from toppling. But Chris already had the basics, and more importantly, he had a healthy respect for the machine’s power. His natural balance kicked in as soon as the Harley was moving, and I knew, given time and practice, he’d nail it. Not to mention, the sight of him riding my girl gave me a world-class hard-on that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

He couldn’t stop smiling, or talking, or feeling me up at every opportunity as I took him through the Harley’s quirks. And when the lesson was done and we called in for fuel on the ride back, he pushed me into the washroom, locked the door, and I was given a personal masterclass in exactly what an appreciative and animated Chris was capable of. Five minutes with his gorgeous lips around my cock and it was all over.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked through the helmet mic when I indicated and turned into the quiet Meadowbank Street.

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