Page 25 of Biker's Tribute: Property of Bear

"Get on the bike, Amanda."

"Making brutish commands is not going to get you out of this. That bike is dangerous and if you got a new bike overnight, you can just as easily get a car."

"You know what would be even easier?"

"What?"

She regrets asking the question. And I regret not having bite proof biceps. I buckle a helmet on Amanda while I have one arm clenched around her body to keep her still. Once I survive the slew of bite marks and kicks, I seat her on the bike and start wobbling it so she has to hold on and wait for me to take my seat in the front.

Once I'm seated, she wraps her arms around me and digs her claws into my abs.

"I'm going to grip you so hard, you lose consciousness," she hisses into my ear. Her thighs wrap around my waist and her arms squeeze as tightly as she can. I think it would take a giant and ancient snake to cut off my breathing from gripping my waist but… I let her have her “tough girl” moment.

It’s not like her hands are around my neck.

"You're a pain in the ass," I grumble before starting the bike, fighting the pain I feel in other parts of my body.

My balls ache. And judging by her attitude, Amanda won't be fixing that problem any time soon.

* * *

Nine

Amanda

Fear surges through me and overpowers my senses once Ethan revs up that demonic motorcycle. My chest shudders so powerfully that I question whether I'll stay conscious or not. He might have good looks, but this man is a demon.

Once he peels out of the parking lot, I stupidly expect Ethan to show some respect for the speed limits. He kicks the bike up to 45 mph, even if the speed limit is clearly marked 30mph. The bike wobbles and I clutch his jacket so tightly that my palms and fingers ache.

He's going to kill me. I should have just died in that office because it would have been faster than this...

Because what the hell am I thinking letting this man take me to New York City? It doesn't matter that all he did was cuddle me last night. He lied about... something.

And that something pressed into my ass all night. While he was asleep, I even felt it go between my cheeks a little bit, just about ready to jump out of Ethan's pants.

He turns the bike and I lean with him instinctively, but my stomach drops into my ass. I'm going to die. I swear...

My fear intensifies as we head towards the Mass Turnpike onramp. He shoots past a beat up Chevy Colorado, causing the guy behind the wheel to flip him off. Ethan's body vibrates with the bike and he only speeds up, ignoring everything, including what must be shrieking coming from me.

I can feel my lungs rattle as I scream, but I can't even hear myself or anything except the Harley Davidson engine roar. Mallory knows I'm in trouble, but I was explicit that she shouldn't go to the cops. Not like she would.

Ethan's assumption about me is funny because nobody hates cops more than my basic ass white best friend. Not only did she go to the 2020 protests in Boston, her picture went viral because she was screaming at a cop with all the bravery only a crazy ass white girl like Mallory could muster in the face of an assault rifle.

She wouldn't even go to the cops when her ex broke into her apartment last year.

Thinking about Mallory doesn't do enough to distract me from the ride. My ass and thighs hurt after fifteen minutes, but we're barely out of Boston and we have a long drive ahead. Hopefully this man stops at a gas station so I can catch my breath and if I get a chance — slap him hard across the face for dragging me through this mess.

I hardly believe I'm alive when Ethan stops for gas at a place called Cumberland Farms in Connecticut. New England is weird about their gas stations. Ethan removes himself from the bike easily, but my fingers feel like they're seared into his jacket. He has to pry my body away from his to get me off.

When I stand, I dry heave, fogging up the helmet and nearly causing a true disaster before Ethan places his hands on the sides of the helmet and removes it.

Fresh air rushes against my face and for the first time in my black ass life, I understand what it means to feel pale.

"I'm going to throw up on you."

Ethan's scowl melts and he has oddly sexy crow's feet at the corners of his eyes as he tries to hide a smile that his eyes betray.

"Don't."

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