Page 99 of Give Me Perfect Love

“I can and I do,” Bryce says. He twists the throttle, making the bike whine.

He looks over at me. “Come on, girl.”

Oh, no way.

“Nope.” I hold up my hands and back up.

He doesn’t accept my reply. “Jace, give her your helmet.”

Jace kicks the kickstand out and jumps off the bike. “Here, Harrison. Hold on tight.” He winks at me.

I pout. “Bryce, I really don’t want to do this.”

“You think I’d let anything happen to you?” he asks me in a serious tone.

And with that, I deflate my chest and put the helmet over my head. Of course, he wouldn’t want anything to happen to me, but he can’t control everything, even though he likes to think he can.

He scoots up and I climb on the back, holding on to his waist for dear life.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Do I have I choice?”

He chuckles, and I feel it vibrate through my chest. “Nah, K. You never did.”

I smile inside the helmet, thinking he is one thousand percent right.

When it comes to him, I don’t have a choice.

He stole my soul, robbed me blind, and I don’t even care.

He puts the bike in gear, and with a twist of his wrist, we soar.

I laugh and hold on tighter as he flies us through the pasture. Horses watch like we’re crazy, and birds fly up above the tree line. The cold stings my hands, but I’m warm against Bryce.

We fly with the wind, chasing God knows what, running from God knows who. The bike vibrates under me, and I can feel the heat on my leg, coming from the engine. Bryce controls it easily, going fast, but not fast enough to freak me out. The rough fabric of his jumpsuit rubs against my palms, and I wish I didn’t have this helmet on so I could breathe him in.

Being out here like this, I’ve gotten to see a different man.

Bryce Grant is many things, and I’ve loved getting to witness them all…well, except the fighter. That shit worries me. Bryce has a short fuse for certain things, and I’m one of those.

We still argue, and sometimes he makes me so mad I scream bloody murder, but then we make up and holy shit. Lamps get knocked over, and couch cushions fall to the floor. He removes the breath from my lungs and scars my body in the best way.

Out here, I’ve gotten to see the man deep inside. Past the business owner, the city boy, and sharp dresser. Here, he’s just a man who grew up on a ranch.

Out here, he’s just Bryce.

Bryce slows the bike. We come to a stop, and he uses his foot to kick the stand. The grass is long and yellow-brown regardless of the winter. I step off, stretching my legs before removing Jace’s helmet. Bryce’s helmet goes, too, revealing his disheveled hair.

He’s grown it out, and I love running my hands through it. He unzips his riding suit. “Come here,” he demands, causing my stomach to flutter.

I lick my lips, my eyes roaming down his body. He still sits on the bike, the top of his suit at his waist showing off a black T-shirt. I walk over to him and he lifts me quickly, putting me on his lap. The bike moves a little, but it seems to be stable.

I gasp when I feel how hard he is.

“You turn me on so much,” he says, his voice sexier than I ever remember. “Do you like riding?” His eyes move down to my lips.

“I like riding lots of things.” I bite my smile.

---