Chapter 8 #5
He grabs the helmet and starts to lower it onto my head.
I inwardly cringe at how I’m going to look once the ride is over and he pulls this thing off me.
My hair is untamable on the best of days, but helmet hair?
Jesus, this is gonna be bad. His fingers work quickly, buckling the strap and pulling it tight so there’s no way it’ll fall off.
My head feels cocooned and heavy and everything around me seems muted.
I watch as he hikes one long leg over his bike and sits down, looking completely at ease and sexy as hell.
When he motions me closer, I take a hesitant step, grateful I’m at least wearing jeans tonight. I eye the small seat and then immediately think about my much bigger ass.
“I’m not so sure about this,” I say, raising my voice so he can hear me.
He leans in so our eyes are at the same height, even though I know this thing is tinted and he can’t see me. “Scared, Cyn?”
“A little,” I admit.
That small grin of his makes an appearance as he lowers his hand to grab my butt. He gives one of my cheeks a firm squeeze and then a pat before he asks, “Do you trust me?”
“This is not the same thing as vegetarian tacos,” I remind him, but he just pats my bottom again.
“Get your beautiful ass on the bike, Cyn. I promise you’ll enjoy the ride.”
I don’t tell him that I’d probably agree to just about anything after hearing him call my ass beautiful, but I do hike my leg over the monstrous bike and sit awkwardly behind him on the pretty much nonexistent seat.
When I just sort of hang there, he patiently points out the foot pegs and helps me get situated.
Turning his head, he says, “Wrap your arms around me and don’t let go.”
That one’s easy to do, and within seconds my body is smushed against his and I’m giving him a bear hug from behind.
I feel the large knife at his back, but it doesn’t scare me anymore.
Like the much smaller one that’s in my pocket, I find it more of a comfort.
No way in hell is anyone going to try anything while Sasha is around.
I’m safe with him. I know it’s true. I’m not exactly sure how I know it, but I do.
“Ready?” he asks, and when I bob my head up and down, he starts the motorcycle.
I cling to him even tighter when the engine roars to life. I hadn’t been expecting it to be so loud or to feel so powerful beneath me, but there’s no denying the raw power of this thing. It reminds me a lot of the man driving it—untamed, lethal, sexy, and impossible to not notice and stare at.
Before he pulls out into the street, he reaches back and squeezes my leg.
The touch is meant to comfort, and I quickly lift one hand to run my fingers along his neck to let him know I appreciate it.
He grabs my hand and kisses it before easing us into traffic.
It’s a much more gentle takeoff than I’d been expecting, and I start to think that it’s going to continue to be like this and I almost laugh at my earlier worries, but then the cars around us part just enough for him to slip through.
Once he’s free of them, he speeds up, racing through the next light while I cling to him so hard I’m afraid I’m going to crack a rib.
My obvious terror has him reaching back to squeeze my calf.
After a few terrifying minutes, I slowly start to relax when I realize we’re not going to die in a fiery crash.
Even though I’m not having a panic attack, I still start to mentally tally the things going on around me, not because I’m anxious, but because I don’t want to forget a single moment of this.
I feel the wind on my body, the firm seat beneath me, the pleasant vibrations that give just a hint of pleasure, the feel of Sasha’s powerful body against mine, and the rock-hard abs my fingers are currently digging into.
God, every part of this man is hard and defined.
While he worries about driving and getting us to his place in one piece, I make a mental map of Sasha’s abs, noticing every peak and groove, and when we stop at another red light, my fingers slip under his shirt like they have a mind of their own.
I feel his muscles tighten even more when he feels me drag a finger along his stomach, right above the line of his jeans.
Before the light turns green, he places his hand on top of mine, lightly threading his fingers through mine.
I’m worried that maybe I’ve gone too far and annoyed him while he’s trying to drive, but right as the light switches, he brings my hand lower, pressing it against the very hard length of him.
He races down the road while my heart races in my chest at the solid feel of him beneath my palm.
Unable to resist, I slide my hand further down his inner thigh, surprised yet again at the sheer size of him.
Sav and I may have made a promise to save ourselves for fireworks, but that didn’t stop us from internet searches, and while I didn’t do anything beyond some pretty awkward make-out sessions with my boyfriend in high school, I felt him against my leg and it hadn’t felt anything like this.
Sasha is blessed, and I’m both thrilled and terrified at what that means for me.
My entire focus is on the dick beneath my hand, so it takes me by surprise when he stops in front of an old-looking warehouse.
It’s not the apartment I’d been expecting, but I learned long ago to not judge a book by its cover.
Our house was never the nicest on the block, but it’s all my mom could afford, and I never once thought less of her because of that.
I thought less of her about a lot of things, but lack of money was never one of them.
The garage door starts to lift when Sasha pushes a button, and once we’re inside, the door starts to slide shut, leaving us trapped and alone.
Glancing around, I see a really nice black Jeep and a wall full of various tools and supplies.
The garage is nice, spotless even, and it’s filled with a lot of expensive equipment.
I realize I’m still lightly stroking his erection, so I pull my hand back and say a muffled, “Sorry,” through the helmet.
He cuts the engine and grabs my hand, putting it right back where it was.
“Don’t ever apologize for touching me, krovinka.
” Keeping his hand over mine, he presses in so I’m palming his thick cock even harder.
When he slides my hand lower, I grip him so I’m massaging him the whole way, and the deep, masculine groan he gives nearly does me in.
It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard, and knowing that I’m the one who pulled it from him is downright intoxicating.
“Maybe bringing you here wasn’t the greatest idea,” he says in a strained voice that doesn’t sound nearly as controlled as it usually does.
Turning, he shifts so he can undo my helmet and pull it off.
A mass of red waves falls around me, and I’m thankful there isn’t a mirror around.
I’d rather not know exactly how bad it is.
I’d rather pretend it’s a sexy waterfall of red instead of the rat’s nest it probably looks like.
He groans and threads one hand into my hair.
“I’m going to do my best to stay in control, my little Cyn, but you test my willpower like nothing else ever has.”
When I get off his bike, it’s on shaky legs.
I watch as he does the same, and then he takes my hand and leads me to the door with an intricate-looking security system next to it.
I have no idea what I’m about to step into, but there’s no turning back now.
I couldn’t walk away from the man next to me even if I wanted to.
I’m in this too deep, and instead of hauling my ass back to shore, I thread my fingers through Sasha’s and swim out deeper.
I may very well drown, but when I meet his light-blue eyes, it becomes painfully obvious how little I care.
I’d rather drown in the deep dark water with a man like Sasha than spend a safe, boring life on the shore.