Chapter 23 Brooke #2
My face falls into one of anticipation as I nibble my lip, considering his words for maybe two seconds before obliging.
When I get to the bike, I turn around, only to bump right into the helmet Drew is holding out for me.
I take it, slipping it over my head, watching through the shield as he slings his leg over the seat.
I climb on after him, hugging him tightly right before he wraps his arms under my thighs and yanks me closer.
I gasp when he starts the bike, my legs so widely set around him that it's no longer even my ass that's touching the pad of the seat.
Drew keeps one hand on the throttle, trailing the other up my inner thigh as he revs the engine beneath us.
The vibration hits me in all the right places, the mixture of that and his touch sending goosebumps to every inch of my skin.
He backs out of the spot slowly, navigating the bike between a car and an SUV.
As soon as he's cleared all possible obstacles, he rolls toward the exit, then peels out of the lot at triple the speed.
I tighten my grip around his waist, his abs flexing from the position—or maybe he's as on edge as I am. Drew stops at a red light and drops his arm, massaging the outside of my thigh. I attempt to shift even closer to him, squeezing my legs around his. I'm desperate for more. Needy for him.
I can't help myself. This man knows exactly how to light me on fire, and I might combust if I don't have all of him.
Slipping my hands between the flaps of his jacket and underneath the hem of his shirt, I run my fingers over his muscles.
Drew sucks in, which because of the rumble of the engine, I only know based on the way his whole torso lifts.
I drag my fingertips over the rises and falls of each peak and valley, and he presses harder into the flesh of my leg, turning his head, cracking his neck to one side.
For a second, I contemplate telling him to pull over.
Suggesting that he just turn the ignition off altogether and set up traffic cones so other drivers know to go around us while we get to what I really want.
But before I'm too tempted to offer an idea, the light turns green, and Drew floors it down the road.
The vibration continues, a dull trembling encouraging my need.
I can't resist continuing my exploration, walking my fingertips lower and lower until I reach the waistband of his jeans.
There's no way that from this angle I could so much as even dip a hand inside, although that's exactly what I'd like to do.
So, instead, I drop them altogether, only for one to land on his bulging cock strained between the seat and his right thigh.
Just the feel of it makes me wetter, my nipples overly sensitive as they brush against his firm back.
I press my palm against it, and Drew groans loud enough to hear over the bike's roar causing my hand to squeeze tighter as if I could somehow move it closer to where I need it most.
My other five fingers cling to the hem of his jacket, white knuckling it as I rest the front of my helmet on his shoulder, biting my lip so hard it hurts.
Suddenly, the bike veers to the right, gravel from the side of the road crunching below the tires as Drew cruises onto the shoulder.
Adrenaline rushes past me thanks to the quick change of pace, my heart-rate beating through my chest once we come to a stop.
Drew shuts the bike off completely, smacking the shield up on his helmet and twisting his torso to face me.
"I will fuck you over this bike if you so much as breathe the word, but I give it about two minutes before someone recognizes my ride and starts snapping pictures."
I stare at him in shock, which he probably can't even see through the tinted guard on my helmet. I stay quiet, torn between pretending I have no idea what he's talking about and actually accepting his offer.
"Your move, Mystery Girl," he continues impatiently, as if he didn't walk me right into this. "This is the kind of shit people expect from me. Honestly, you'd be doing me a favor."
Past-Brooke goes to speak first—to point out that technically if I left my helmet on, no one would know it was me he was pounding against the back of the bike.
But future-Brooke pops onto my other shoulder, arguing that this is not the kind of behavior someone in their thirties trying to settle down would partake in.
Sex? Sex is fine—I hope senile-Brooke is still getting laid.
But I'm supposed to be taking all of this more seriously.
And as serious as indecent exposure can be, that's not exactly what I had in mind.
"Take me home," I say, reaching forward and sliding his shield back into place.
Drew hesitates for only an instant, then spins back around.
He reaches to restart the engine but before he can, I palm him once again—with purpose this time—touching the side of my helmet to his.
"But then, this is mine… however I want it. "