Page 109 of X's and O's
“Let me take you. Even if you call an Uber now, you aren’t going to get there by nine. I know you hate being late.”
I did, which was why I was so annoyed with myself. But apparently an orgasm from Whip had one crashing so hard they slept through their alarm.
Or it could have been the fact he’d made me cometwo more times throughout the night, so I’d had all of about two hours’ sleep.
My core still tingled with the memory of pulsing around his fingers and tongue.
For once, being late would be worth it. Except this was my first proper shift at Psychos, and I didn’t want to make a bad impression. I eyed him warily. “You swear to God I won’t fall off that thing?”
He held the helmet out to me again. “I’d never do anything to put you in danger. You can trust me.”
“Except I can’t, can I?”
We both knew that had nothing to do with his riding skills.
So I took the helmet because, unlike him, I didn’t want to let people down.
We walked side by side in silence back to the bike, and I tried really hard not to notice how his jeans pulled tight around his perfect ass when he swung his long leg over the seat.
It was only then I realized I was going to have to do the same. And all without touching him, because I definitely didn’t want to do that.
Awkward as fuck, I put my hands on the seat behind him. I was tall enough I could get my leg over without much trouble, and I gave myself a mental pat on the back when I managed to do it without so much as grazing him.
There was the tiniest sliver of space between us, and I intended to keep it.
Even though clutching the bar behind me was awkward and trying to maintain that distance between us was using stomach muscles I was pretty sure I hadn’t switched on since high school gym class.
Levi revved the engine.
It rumbled through my entire body, sending pleasant tingles through flesh that was already sensitive from everything Whip had done to me last night.
Or maybe part of that was from the man sitting in front of me, his broad shoulders stupidly delicious in a black leather jacket with the Slayers logo on the back.
He couldn’t have been ugly, could he? He couldn’t have had rotting teeth or even dirty hair? No. Instead, he had to be every prison bunny’s wet dream.
Apparently I was just as bad. Because everything about Levi, especially the whole bad-boy aesthetic, was a huge turn-on.
Shame he was a lying asshole.
He revved the engine again, and I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for takeoff…or whatever they called it when a bike started moving.
Levi’s hand gripped my thigh.
I gasped at the touch, at his fingers pressed to my cheap work pants, and then again as he dragged me down the seat so I was flush against him.
“Put your arms around me.”
Oh hell no. It was bad enough my tits were smushed up to his perfectly sculpted back. Could he feel my belly rolls? Or how thick my thighs were?
Self-doubt roared in. This man had already rejected me on first sight. And now he was getting an up-close tour of the shape of my body.
The one he’d clearly found so repulsive that a whole year of getting to know each other now meant nothing.
I hated this.
“Violet,” his voice came as a shout over the engine. “Put your arms around me. I need to be able to feel you to keep us upright.”
My brain screamed to get off. That this was mortifyingly embarrassing and that it was only going to get worse when I made us tip the stupid bike.
