Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“I’ll take care of it,” Dex assures me, then marches ahead, waving his hand to hurry me along.
We stop at his bike. He stares at the seat, then me. “Have you ever ridden before?”
Warmth spreads from my cheeks to my forehead. “One of my exes used to ride. He took me out a few times.”
Is it my imagination, or did Dex’s jaw tighten when I mentioned an ex?
“Sorry, did you want to be the one to give me my first ride?” I tease.
A hint of a smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “No, just your last.”
“That’s either really sweet or kind of ominous.”
“Well, I didn’t mean it to be ominous.” He flicks his gaze toward the sky. “And few people have ever called me sweet.”
The heat in my face spreads to my ears. “You’ve been sweet to me today.”
“Better put that on.” He nods to the helmet, ending our casual banter.
Mushy time over. Got it.
I strap the unfamiliar headgear into place, then sling my purse across my chest. “Let’s ride.”
Another hint of a smile. Dex is a hard man to crack.
He effortlessly slings his leg over the bike and I try to stop the drool from rolling down my chin. My ex certainly hadn’t looked this good straddling his skinny motorcycle with the high-pitched, whiny engine. Dex seems completely confident he can handle the giant machine. Like he’s one with his motorcycle.
He straps on his helmet and pulls black leather gloves from his pocket that he carefully works onto his big hands. Damn, since when do I find a man’s hands so enticing?
At this point, I should probably look for a towel to wipe my chin.
“You getting on?” he asks.
“Uh, yeah.” How do I mount this thing again? It seems so much bigger than anything I’ve been on before.
“Put your hand on my shoulder,” Dex instructs.
As if I’m moving too slowly for him, he reaches for my hand, guiding it to his shoulder.
I lightly rest my palm against the leather of his vest.
“Harder than that, little firecracker. I won’t break,” he encourages.
“That’s for sure. You’re sturdy. Like a tree.” Come on. You can do this. I grip him tighter and toss my leg over.
“Watch the pipes,” Dex warns.
“Okay.”
He reaches back, grabbing my calf. I dig my fingers into his shoulders.
“Relax. I’ve got you.” He runs his hand over my sneakers. “Wish these had a heel or something. They might slip off the pegs, so hold tight.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“Hold tight,” he repeats. “Lean when I lean. Okay?”
“Got it.” I give him directions to where I work. He nods as if he knows the place.
The engine roars to life. A deep, throaty rumble. So much louder than I’d expected. I cling harder to Dex’s shoulders.
He reaches for one of my hands, sliding it down to his waist. “Ready?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He opens the throttle and we take off, bumping over the gravel at a slow speed that must make it difficult for Dex to control the bike, but he makes it seem effortless.
When we reach the highway, we shoot forward. I shriek and wrap my arms tighter, cinching his waist like a human belt.
“Is this okay?” I shout. What if I’m squeezing so hard he can’t breathe?
“You feel good,” he says, a shade louder than the engine. At least that’s what it sounds like.
My heart races as he increases the speed. The cool morning air whips against my hands, and I tuck them under Dex’s shirt.
Mistake.
He’s hard everywhere. Not just his strong shoulders.
Do not molest the operator of the vehicle moving at sixty-five miles an hour.
After a while of steady riding, the tension running through my body uncoils. I loosen my death grip on Dex and carefully shift my body back. A rush of euphoria races over me. Freedom and an odd sense of peace. Everything seems so alive and close—like I could reach out and grab a handful of wildflowers on the side of the road if I wasn’t afraid I’d plummet to my death.
The vibrating beast between my thighs intensifies the swoony sensation I’ve been dealing with from being around Dex. Except it’s stronger than a swoon and heading south fast.
Oh, no. Now isn’t the time.
Work. Focus on work. Reports are due at the end of the month. I’ll be slammed with testing and sending results. Chemicals. I need to call and order chemicals today.
The bike slows and gently swerves to the right. I open my eyes. Relief that I’m almost at work fills me, followed by dread. I’m not ready for our ride to end.
I like Dex. A lot more than I should. This is the first time we’ve been alone together. Yet, spending time with him without our friends around feels natural.
I doubt he feels the same way.
In the distance, I spot my building and tap Dex’s shoulder. “It’s up there on the right.”