Page 29 of Fairy Tale Lies
She closed her eyes, savoring his touch and scent.
“All set,” he said, less than a minute later. “You okay?”
Opening her eyes, she focused on his face. His brows were knitted, his gaze searching hers.
“I’m fine. Just nervous.” She’d closed her eyes to calm her heart from desire, not fear.
Her gaze shifted from his bottomless blues to the top of his head. “Where’s your helmet?”
“I only brought the one.” He shrugged. “There’s no helmet law in Michigan. I won’t get a ticket.”
“A ticket doesn’t worry me. I care about your head.”
“I have an extremely hard one.” He knocked lightly on the side of his head. “I’ll be fine…You’re not chickening out on me, are you?”
He was impossible to refuse when his gorgeous, playful grin made an appearance. “No, though, would you mind if maybe we skipped the highway?”
His smile widened. “You’re adorable when you’re nervous, but you’ll see, it’s easy, nothing to fear.” He lightly kissed the tip of her nose, then leaned back, watching her, wordlessly asking if she was okay.
She wanted to throw herself into his arms but resisted in case anyone was watching from the expansive windows that ran along Swift. She was already taking a risk getting on the back of a client’s bike. She didn’t need to be caught making out with him as well.
His expression went blank. She couldn’t tell if the separation bothered him.
“There are a couple things you need to do.” He raised two fingers. “Lean with me into the turns and be careful getting off the bike, the pipes will be hot.”
“Understood. And you’re okay with no highways, right?”
“No highways. I promise. Unless you change your mind.” He shucked off his suit jacket and stored it in a canvas bag strapped to the bike. He swung a long leg over the seat. After righting it and releasing the kickstand, he peered at her. “Ready?”
Nope.
She nodded, running her sweaty palms on her slacks and trying to swallow her heart back into her chest, where it belonged, instead of lodged in her throat. She’d look like a fool, suggesting it and then reneging. Ignoring her protesting, tingling limbs, she got on the back of the bike, sliding impossibly close to Jacob. She gripped him vice-like with her thighs and arms, realizing much too late, a motorcycle was sexy in theory, terrifying in reality.
“You won’t fall off. I promise.” He rubbed her hands, but she couldn’t make her fingers loosen her death grip. He twisted around, his gaze meeting hers. The corners of his mouth twitched, and his eyes shone with humor. “But, I might pass out if you keep squeezing so tight.”
“Sorry.” He probably thought she was behaving like a foolish little girl. She used what dignity remained to ease her hold.
Jacob chuckled and shifted. Seconds later, the bike roared to life. Greta’s heart ran back in her throat, trying to escape the terrifying ride. Abandoning dignity, she returned her death grip.
He let out an “oof” but was smart enough not to laugh. The gears clicked, and they were off. So slow and gentle, the start was almost anticlimactic.
He took them through residential neighborhoods and onto the main road, keeping under the speed limit. Her heart found its proper place, and she even felt silly for her fear.
It wasn’t terrible, was even nice.
She loved the way the powerful bike rumbled under her andadoredhaving an excuse to wrap herself around Jacob’s muscular back and thighs. Every time they turned, his muscles slid against her, steadily heating her.
She rested the side of her face against his solid back and lost herself in the joy of a summer ride with a handsome man.
“Um, Greta,” he said sometime later. His deep voice stirred her from a relaxed trance.
“Hmm?”
“You’re killing me here…”
Her grip was loose and relaxed. In fact, her hands weren’t even wrapped around his waist. They were–
Oh. She was strumming his abs. His lower abs.
