GABRIELLA
Wind tore through my hair. I held tight to Nathan as he guided his Ducati Panigale in and out of traffic. He leaned and I let his body do all the work. I laughed as I tightened my arms around his muscled chest. I never felt freer, happier than when I was on the back of a bike with Nathan.
He drove too fast, he always did. I trusted him. He had eagle eyes and the reflexes of a cat. He took us far out of the city, deep into the country of Illinois, where we could ride with nothing getting in the way. Our helmets were clipped out of the way until we would need them again.
I didn’t know where we were, didn’t care. I was with him, and we were happy. Nathan slowed the bike and pulled to the side of the road. We were next to a field dotted with white and purple cover, and other wildflowers. After he helped me from the pillion seat I wandered into the field.
My fingers brushed some of the taller plants. I couldn’t have stopped the smile on my face if I had wanted to. The sun felt good, on my skin. I loved the stillness of the air after the exhilarating rush of being on the bike. The contrasts were night and day, and just as beautiful in their own ways.
I spun for the sake of spinning. I didn’t know if life could get any better than this. Especially with the way Nathan was looking at me.
“What?” I asked.
“What what, Gabby?”
He leaned against the bike. It was a sleek model, all fast lines and power with a custom black and red lightning paint job. The bike was as expensive and impressive as the man leaning against it. He was long-limbed and dangerous looking with his eyes hidden behind dark aviators. His thick dark hair was a shaggy mess from the wind. His smile flashed perfect teeth, movie star white and dazzling. His lips quirked into a sexy smirk, and the way he crossed his tanned arms emphasized the bulge of his muscles.
He was gorgeous, and he had spent the past six month looking at me like I was something beautiful and amazing. The way he looked at me stopped my breath in my throat and quickened my pulse. It was almost as thrilling as his kisses, and the way he touched me.
I skipped over to him and held out a few of the wildflowers I had picked. He took one of the lacey white flowers and tucked it into my hair, behind my ear. And then he leaned into me and kissed me. His lips were always a perfection on mine. Soft, warm, and he always used the right amount of pressing, the perfect play and tease. I tied my arms around his neck and tried to give him as good of a kiss as he gave me. Nathan’s kisses curled my toes and tugged at things deep in my body every single time. I could let him kiss me forever and be content.
But kissing Nathan came with extras. He rarely just kissed me. He touched me, and his touch skyrocketed feelings and emotions straight into the stratosphere. My mouth may have been pleased with his expert kisses, but my body was not. I craved his skin against mine, his hands on me.
I leaned more into him and hiked my leg up against his hip. His hand ran over my thigh.
“Damn, woman, you are insatiable,” he grumbled against my neck as his lips trailed kisses like fire down my neck.
“I’ve never done it outside, and there’s nobody around.”
Nathan pulled the skirt of my sundress up and slid his hand under my panties to cup me. He stroked a finger over my slit.
“You are wet,” he chuckled.
“I’ve been on the back of a motorcycle, and you turn me on,” I confessed.
He slid his finger in between my folds and circled my clit.
I gasped at his touch. It was everything I ever wanted. I may have been fantasizing about a quilted blanket out in the middle of the wildflowers, our bodies naked to the sun and the fresh air. Nathan above me, loving me, commanding my body. But I would take this. I would accept any touch he was willing to give.
He continued to kiss and run his lips over my shoulders before returning his mouth to mine. He tangled his hand deep into my hair while his other hand drove me wild with his touch. He teased me until I couldn’t focus. I scrambled for his fly, wanting to feel his hot cock in my hand. I wanted to give to him the way he was giving to me.
I managed to slip my hand through the open fly, and then I couldn’t think. It was all I could do to hold on. His fingers were magic, and I was close to that edge he drove me to every time he made love to me. I moaned into his mouth as an orgasm crashed over me.
Nathan drove his fingers into me, and over my nerve center until I was putty in his hands, literally. He slid his fingers from me, and held me as I came down from the sudden high, he gave my body. He pulled my hand from his cock.
“But I want to make you feel good,” I would have whined, if I had the energy. Nathan had reduced me to liquid, with no resistance.
“You do make me feel good, baby. You will later. I need to be able to focus. Wanting you gives me an edge,” he growled, and pulled me hard against him. I didn’t want this day to end.
He propped me back up on the pillion and climbed on. I had fantasies about Nathan, dreams of where and how I wanted his body, in a field, on his bike, on a balcony, in a pool. I wanted him always, even after he satisfied me on the side of the road, out in the middle of nowhere.
We rode for hours. It was dark by the time he pulled over and handed my helmet over before we crossed the border and returned to helmet laws.
The next time he pulled over we were in an upper-class neighborhood, in front of some mansion with a gated drive. There were dozens of other expensive racing bikes, as well as a collection of fast looking low sports cars. The people here had serious money. Nathan paused after I dismounted the bike. He ran his hands through my hair. It felt attentive and intimate, even though I knew he was fixing my helmet hair. He ran his hands through his own hair a few times. He took my hand and I followed him along a low-lit walkway.
The sounds of a DJ lured us to promises of a good time. We rounded a corner and the back pool area of someone's mansion was glowing with party lights, and pulsing dance music.
People laughed and splashed in the pool. Nathan smiled and waved at people he knew. Someone handed us drinks in red plastic cups. Nathan’s friends did not run in the same circles that mine did. Before I met him, I had never simply walked into a party in the back of some mansion. With Nathan, we were in and out of pool houses, drinking champagne out of plastic cups, and dancing to touring DJs.