Page 67 of Shattering Nash

Charley turned, walking down the line of bikes. They were all beautiful. Any of them would do. But she had her eye on one in particular. She stopped at the first motorcycle in line, smiling down at the bike.

“Can we take this one?”

Nash stalked toward her with a look she couldn’t quite place. He stopped behind her, wrapping his arms around her stomach. His breath fanned over her neck, and his lips skimmed her ear. “That’s my favorite.”

Heat coursed over her skin, and she slowly angled her head. They were so close. A mere breath away. In an instant, she’d abandoned all ideas of the ride and wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

“We could go on the motorcycle later,” she said, leaning closer, making her intentions known.

He cupped her jaw, strumming his thumb over her pulse. It must’ve been giving everything away. Nash knew what she was insinuating. He tightened his hold over her waist.

“Put your helmet on,” Nash said.

She did as she was told but hadn’t taken her eyes off of him. She was seeing him in a different light. He walked aroundhis bike as if it was second nature. She’d just tied the straps when the garage door opened, and he started up the engine. He glanced over his shoulder and waved her over.

Charley couldn’t batten down her excitement, practically running to him. Nash gave her specific instructions on how to get on, even offering his hand and steadying her when she wobbled on the pegs.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, clasping her hands at his stomach. Adrenaline raced through her veins, and they hadn’t even left the garage.

“Don’t let go,” he said.

That won’t be a problem, Nash.

****

It had been years since he’d had a woman on the back of his bike. Even then it had only been a handful of times. Her hands were clasped at his stomach, tighter than he would’ve preferred. It was a telltale sign she was afraid of falling off. It was a healthy fear, especially for a first-time rider. Charley had nothing to worry about. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He dropped his hand to her thigh, caressing her leg in hopes of calming her nerves.

Nash had only intended on a short ride, maybe fifteen minutes. He could’ve rode for the next few hours. It wasn’t until he was riding that he was reminded of how much he missed it. When he asked if she wanted to go back, she shouted over the engine.

“Can we ride a little bit longer?”

Nash openly smiled, and headed toward a winding backroad he’d been eyeing since he’d moved into his house. Nash took the full loop then rode back home. This may have been her first time on his bike, but it wouldn’t be the last.

He pulled into his garage and parked in the first spot, designated for this specific motorcycle. He wasn’t lying whenhe’d mentioned she’d chosen his favorite. Nash gave her instructions on how to get off. He shut down the engine and swung his leg over the seat, turning to Charley. She’d already taken off her helmet and was practically bouncing on her toes.

“How did I do?” Charley asked.

Nash knitted his brows, unsure of what she meant.

She pointed to the bike. “As a passenger?”

Charley was eagerly waiting on his response. His approval.I fucking like that.

He leaned closer, brushing his lips against hers. “Perfect.”

Charley reached out, took his helmet, and walked to the work chest across the garage. He bent down, inspecting the bike. He’d heard a small rattle while riding. It could’ve been nothing, but he wanted to double check. It had been too long since he’d ridden or serviced the motorcycle. With his new riding companion, he needed to made sure it was safe.

“I like you in a suit.”

Nash turned to see her leaning against the work chest and a blush spreading across her cheeks. Her gaze travelled over his body from head to toe, lingering on his chest.

“But I love you in jeans and a T-shirt.”

Playing with fire, Charley.

“Yeah?”

Charley bit her lip and slowly nodded. Nash straightened from the bike and stalked toward her. She backed into the edge of the counter, grasping the edges. Nash stopped only inches away. He grabbed her hips, lifting her up onto the surface and stepping between her legs. He curled his palm over her throat, sliding his thumb over the pulse of her neck.

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