“Here, put my helmet on. I want you safe.” Hunter slid the hard protective covering over Jeanette’s head, her brown hair hanging down past her shoulders. He wrapped the strap beneath her chin and made sure it was tight.
“What are you going to wear?”
“I’ll be fine.” He grabbed his leather jacket from the lock box and slung it over her shoulders. “The coat isn’t just for warmth, it’s protection too.”
She pushed her arms in, but the cuffs hung down past her fingertips. Hunter had to roll the sleeves up three times to get them to fit right. He zipped it up and noticed her grinning. “What?”
“I feel ridiculous.”
Hunter kissed her on the tip of her nose and murmured, “But you look adorable.”
Her soft laugh flooded his senses. He liked when she let herself go, forgot the shyness. Like when she’d licked his cock and nearly drove him right over the edge. She hadn’t been the least bit shy then either.
Hunter slung his leg over the leather seat, and took hold of the handlebars. “Climb on, sweetness.”
She looked down at herself and frowned. “Um, I didn’t allow for the skirt. This might not work, Hunter.”
“It’ll be fine, just make sure the material is wrapped around your legs, then lift your leg over.”
Jeanette pulled the material up and bunched it between her thighs, then stepped onto the footpad and boosted herself up and over. When she slid onto the seat behind him and wiggled around to get more comfortable, he went rigid. Christ, even through all the layers of clothing, Hunter could swear he felt her hot pussy pressing against his ass. Maybe it was just his lust-filled brain. Either way, concentrating on the road was going to be a bitch.
He looked back and checked her skirt, making sure none of the material hung down. Satisfied she had it all tucked around her, he asked, “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
He winked. “Don’t be nervous. I’m not a daredevil and my house is just a few streets from here.”
“I’m not nervous.”
He quirked a brow at the bold-faced lie and she caved. “Okay, I’m a little nervous. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”
“I’ve been riding since I was a teenager. My uncle used to take me out on his. When I was old enough to earn my own money, I saved up and bought my first bike. An old piece of crap, but still, I loved that thing.”
“I’ve never dated a guy who rode.”
“I bet you’ve never given head in the kitchen of your café either. I guess it’s a night of firsts.”
She laughed and smacked him on the back. “You’re bad.”
He only grinned back at her before turning the key. The engine roared to life immediately. “Hold on tight, sweetness,” he called over his shoulder.
When he felt her arms slide tentatively around his middle, Hunter took hold of both her hands and tugged until she was snug against him. Ah yeah, that was more like it. “Ready?”
“Yep,” she yelled back.
Hunter revved the engine and maneuvered out of the lit parking lot and onto the dark city street. By the time they’d driven half a mile, Jeanette’s grip on him had loosened and he could feel her cheek against his back. Something about the sweet, vulnerable way she held on to him, so trusting, as if she had nothing to fear, melted the ice around his heart.
Hunter wasn’t sure where this thing between them would lead. Relationships hadn’t been a big priority. In fact, he usually went for a few days with a woman, then he happily moved on. He’d never messed with a woman who didn’t know the score. He offered a good time between the sheets, not tender emotions. Pretty words and sweet promises wasn’t his style.
Jeanette was different though. He wanted more than sex from her. He wanted to see her smile again. To see her blush for him. He ached to watch her go all soft when he paid her compliments. Her innocence, he assured himself. It had pulled at him like a dog to a bone. Surely there wasn’t more to it than that.
Still, the idea of bringing her back to her café in the morning and never seeing her again had his gut in knots. A few hours in his bed weren’t going to suffice. Hunter was smart enough to admit the truth. Little Jeanette had gone to his head. No way in hell was he anywhere close to being ready to walk away. In fact, for the first time in his life, the notion of spending time out of bed with a woman didn’t have him immediately growing wings on his feet. F
uck. Sex he was good at, but romancing a woman? Now that was foreign territory.
He turned onto the cul-de-sac where he lived, anticipation a low hum inside him. She’d be in his bed soon, naked and his to pleasure. He’d obsessed over Jeanette. Not like a sick perverted type of obsession, but still, she’d been in his thoughts for months. The only reason he’d held back so long was because it’d become clear to him that she had good girl stamped all over her. He had no business screwing around with her. In the end, he’d caved, knowing she’d be a fire in his blood until he finally had a taste of her. He hadn’t figured on becoming addicted.
As he slowed and drove the cycle up his driveway, Jeanette stiffened behind him. He turned his head and called over his shoulder, “Open the compartment behind you, sweetheart. There’s a garage door remote in there.”