Page 28 of Hold Still

She gives me a dirty look and throws her leg over the seat. “Do your worst.”

I tap the shiny chrome. “Shirley and I go way back. You’ll be fine.”

“Shirley?”

I shrug. “Seemed like a good name at the time. Now wrap your arms around me and give me the address.” She tells me an address in the nearby town of Jean, and I plug it into my GPS. I close my visor and she does the same, then her arms snake around my torso. I place my hand on hers intertwined on my ribs and give them a squeeze. The feeling of this woman wrapped around me short circuits my senses.

“I’m waiting,” she says.

Pulling my head out of my ass, I focus on giving her a great ride. The only type of ride she’ll accept.For now.Throttling up, I leave the garage and press the pre-programmed button to close the garage door. Soon, we’re on the open road. I take the turns easy but she leans into me with perfect balance. I revise my initial thought—this certainly is not her first time on a bike. As I’m heading for the unknown address, I don’t try to talk. Rather, I relish the feel of her tits against my back, her helmet-covered head on my shoulder and her arms around my middle. Fuck. This feels too good. I speed up.

After nearly twenty minutes, I turn into our destination—a parking lot with a “Ride the Dunes” sign. I cut the bike and raise my visor. “A dune buggy ride?”

She untangles herself from me, causing me to miss her lush body against mine. Her words distract me. “We’re going to have some fun!” She hops off the bike and hands me her helmet. Seems like her mood smoothed out over the ride. I secure the bike and follow her toward the front of the building.

As I walk in, the weight of every eye is on me. Fuck. I didn’t bring a disguise. A rack of hats with the “Ride the Dunes” logo is off to the side, so I make a purchase and quickly plop it on my head. Not much, but I can breathe easy again.

I join McKenna at the registration counter. “That’ll be four-hundred dollars for the both of you.”

I swallow. She’s commented enough on her money issues so I reach for my billfold, but she’s already handed her credit card to the clerk. She looks at me. “I’ve got this.”

Making a mental note to have Aiden send her a refund, I kiss the top of her head.

The clerk hands McKenna back her card and motions for us to go into another room, where a lanky dude in a “Ride the Dunes” T-shirt welcomes us and about ten others. He gives everyone a crash course in how to handle the souped-up dune buggies and what to expect on the course. Gotta hand it to McKenna—this does sound fun.

We’re all given lockers for our personal items, where I have to leave my newly-purchased disguise. Next, we’re herded into another room to get our gear. I slink to the back of the room and keep my head down until I receive a helmet, goggles and driving gloves—each marked with a logo. They’ve got their branding down, for sure.

As a group, we walk to a bunch of multi-colored dune buggies, following our guide’s instructions. McKenna stops in front of a purple one, and I help her into the two-seater. I can’t resist. “Matches your hair.”

She gives me a secretive smile and nods once. “I hope you have fun out here, Ozzy,” she offers before strapping in.

“You, too,” I say, then choose a black one, placing my helmet and goggles on my extra seat while I get situated in it. Once we’re all set and have given our guide a thumbs-up, we head off for the dunes of the Mojave Desert.

The power of the vehicle surprises me, and we race around the sand. I chase McKenna’s purple buggy, letting her cut me off, laughing my head off. Setting my sights on another one being driven by a guy around my age, we leave interweaving tracks all over the desert.

All too soon, we pull behind the main building. How fucking exhilarating! I loved every single second of the ride, especially when we went balls to wheels. Reminded me of Go-Kart races when I was growing up—only on steroids. I rip my helmet off my head, jump out of the dune buggy and rush over to the purple one where McKenna sits fiddling with her hair. I grab her under her arms, pull her out and swing her around.

“That was the most fun I’ve had clothed since I can’t remember when. Thank you!” I kiss her lips before putting her feet to the ground.

She looks up at me, a big smile across her face. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I had a blast, too.” She bends over to retrieve her helmet and goggles—giving me an excellent view of her ass—and together we walk back to HQ to turn in our gear.

One of the ladies in our group approaches me. “Excuse me. You’re Ozzy Martinez, aren’t you?”

Some of the joy of this morning starts to evaporate. I put my finger to her lips. “Shh.”

Crimson moves its way up her neck. I remove my finger and she whispers, “Could I get a selfie with you?”

Seeing no way out, I motion for her to step out of the way of the others in our group. “Sure thing. Where’s your phone?”

She hands it to me, but McKenna pipes up. “Here. Let me take it of the two of you.” The woman nods, so I give it to McKenna and the ordeal is over in three clicks.

After putting my new baseball cap and sunglasses on, I lead McKenna back to my bike. “Honestly, I loved this. I had no idea this was even here.”

“Leave it to a resident to show you to all the really cool places.”

“I think I will.” My stomach rumbles. Checking my watch, I notice it’s lunchtime. Since she did something so nice for me, I want to return the favor. “Lunch?”

“I’ll never turn down a meal.”

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