Total pages in book: 178
Estimated words: 163885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 656(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 656(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
“Where are we going?”
“Up the coast.” He swept his arm around her and walked her out to his bike. Just the sight of it settled him. The two things that mattered most in his world were coming together. He handed her gloves and then checked to make certain her jacket was very warm. He turned her so she was facing away from him, and he put his arms around her in order to zip the jacket all the way up.
“I’m going over the bike with you, babe, so don’t be nervous. You’re shaking.”
“I am a little nervous,” she admitted. “But mostly I’m excited.”
He showed her the foot pegs, folding and unfolding them, and explained how to get on and off. He explained how hot the pipes could get and to keep clear. He took her patiently through everything there was about being on a bike with him. He was a little astonished when she repeated everything back to him verbatim.
“I want your arms around my waist, Seychelle, at all times. When I lean, you just go with me. Not any further. Just exactly what I do. Like we’re making love. You got that, baby? You think you’re ready for this?”
She nodded. “Absolutely.”
Savage put Seychelle’s helmet on her, making certain it was snug. He made a mental note to buy her motorcycle gear.
She got on like a pro, swinging up behind him and settling close. Her arms circled his waist and then her hands pressed into his belly. He fuckin’ loved that. He hadn’t known what it would feel like, but it felt natural. Like she belonged.
Then they were flying down the road. Highway 1 was a perfect road for motorcycles. The curves were sweet, banking first one way and then the other. Some were wide and sweeping, while others were tight. There were switchbacks and then stretches of open road, all with the ocean on one side and the mountains rising on the other.
Savage had never allowed a woman on the back of his bike. He would have taken Lana or Alena, had they needed it, but they were his sisters. He’d grown up with them and he had known both since they were toddlers, but they had their own motorcycles. He’d been apprehensive about how he would feel with Seychelle on his bike, his one sanctuary.
She moved with him. The slightest shift in his body, and her body followed his. She was a natural rider. A natural passenger. She didn’t anticipate, she only moved when he did. To Savage, it felt as if they were one being, man, woman and machine. It was a little surreal and very sexy. He became aware of the heavy vibration of his ride. The pulsation moved through his body, taking him places he had never gone when she wasn’t with him.
As they roared down the highway, he knew the connection between them continued to grow. He felt it. That woman in her, reaching for him, adjusting to the road with him, draining that hot rage inside of him away, the way the bike and the open highway did. He dropped his hand over hers and pressed her palms deep into his belly. Over his jacket. His colors.
Savage had plenty of practice living in the moment. He chose to do that right then. Live in that moment with Seychelle and his bike. He let the wind take him. He wrapped his hand around her thigh possessively and settled back to let the machine move through the turns with the ease of long practice. His Night Rod Special was smooth and took every curve as if it weren’t there.
He heard the others coming up behind him long before they actually managed to catch up, although he’d been going slow, mostly for Seychelle’s sake. He wanted her to get used to the way the bike reacted to every bend in the road. He wanted to get a feel for her moving with him. There was satisfaction in knowing she trusted him implicitly on the back of his bike. She would need that same trust in every aspect of their relationship.
He took her to his favorite place, where the bluff overlooked the ocean. It would give the others a chance to catch up before they hit the restaurant in Elk. He liked the food, as a rule. The place wasn’t Alena’s, but they had a good chef. He helped her dismount, knowing her legs would be shaky. She kept her hand on his shoulder for a few moments, steadying herself before she stepped away and carefully walked toward the edge.
“Don’t get too close,” he cautioned, coming up behind her and putting his arms around her waist. She leaned back against him, almost without thinking. “Love it when the sun goes down—you can see the water turning colors,” he added.