Page 41 of Jump or Fall
The road was loud and pulsing with motion as motorbikes and cars raced past. Towering buildings lined the streets, their neon signs casting a kaleidoscope of color across the pavement. A slight breeze carried the faint scent of engines and street food, thickening the already stifling night air.
Gordon led her into an alley partially obscured by a large hedge. He rolled out a sleek sports bike with dark blue fairings. The bright lights above reflected off its smooth exterior, subtly shifting its color.
He flipped down the passenger pegs and climbed on. Then, he patted the seat behind him.
This was a lot bigger than a hand touch or a risky hug.
Mara secured the helmet, heart pounding. She took hold of his shoulder and swung a leg over, settling onto the seat. Her knees pressed against his sides, his presence filling her senses.
He feels so nice.
Would he be put off if she held him? She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but falling would be bad.
Gordon turned. “You’ve ridden a bike, right?”
“Not in a long time.”
He bobbed his head. “Lean with me on turns.” Then, he gripped her knee and pulled her snug against him. “You can hold onto me. I don’t bite that hard.”
Hidden behind the helmet, her eyes were wide. He touched her knee—he wanted her to hold him. A big, dumb smile spread across her face as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
He took one of her hands and placed it on the storage compartment in front of him. “Try to brace yourself on this when we brake. That’ll help keep us from sliding forward.”
Heat erupted in her cheeks. That was not where she imagined placing her hand just now.
What the fuck—I’m an awkward teenager all over again.
She managed to make a small noise to let him know she understood.
Once he made sure she was hanging on tight, they sped off into the chaos.
The city blurred past in streaks of color and motion. Her heart raced as they weaved through traffic, dodging cars and other motorbikes.
She hugged him tighter in a secret embrace, the rumble of the engine vibrating through her chest; the thrill of the ride fusing with something deeper.
Gordon must have noticed. His hand found hers and gave a small squeeze.
Fuck the mission. She wanted this to last forever.
But reality crept in, as it always did.
They veered down Tyre, cutting into a shadowed alley cluttered with bins and scattered trash. Gordon killed the engine and helped her down before rolling the bike behind a large pipe protruding from the wall.
She followed him through a narrow doorway and into complete darkness. Her eyes strained to adjust, but she could only make out faint shapes. Gordon’s fingers slipped unexpectedly around hers, making her jump. They were wearing their gauntlets, but the move sent a rush through her all the same.
He guided her up a metal stairwell, each step producing a dull clang, until they reached the landing. He led her into a room, this one dimly lit by the glow of city lights shining through the grimy windows. Judging by the smell of rust and wet concrete, the building they were hiding in hadn’t been used in a long time.
Gordon removed his helmet, and she did the same, tossing it onto the lone table near a wall. He peered out the window then gestured for her to come look.
Mara crouched beside him and followed his line of sight. From here, they had a distant view of where Paragon intersected with Tyre. The lights reflected off the dark street as pedestrians bustled between each other and weaved through traffic. A food vendor stood on the corner doling out orders for the small crowd around him.
Gordon shrugged off his coat, revealing a plain t-shirt and the suit gauntlets. In the dim glow, she could make out the lean muscles that had, until now, been concealed by his coat during previous meetings.
What would he feel like pressed against her now, or with even less clothing between them? The way he’d grabbed her knee had sparked something in her that she’d thought was dead: desire.
Stop ogling him like that. Get it together.
Mara took a slow breath and slipped off her own coat. The heat was oppressive tonight, and her most recent stripe had healed enough to leave uncovered. She never wore short sleeves outside her apartment, so she felt quite exposed. Gordon’s gaze flicked to her arm, but he said nothing.
