“Don’t be afraid to scratch or bite me if you get scared,” he said over his shoulder.
I didn’t have to look at his face to know he was smiling.
“I won’t get scared,” I lied.
“Don’t be afraid to scratch or bite me all the same,” he retorted.
Before I could say anything, although I had absolutely no idea how to respond to that, the bike came to life with a low roar and King was pushing off the ground and into motion. We turned off Main Street immediately and found ourselves on a long backwoods road that led us directly onto the highway. As soon as we hit the open road, King let out a loud, carefree shout and gunned us forward. My arms convulsed around him in fear.
The Sea to Sky highway was a windy ribbon of pavement that followed the edge of the coastline. It was beautiful, especially as the sun winked out behind the mountains and spilled vibrant pinks and oranges across the sky. It was also freaking terrifying. King took us around the corners so fast that we were close enough to the pavement on one side that I could have touched it easily.
“King,” I tried to shout, but my voice was breathless with fear.
His laughter rumbled through him and against my chest. It warmed me against the cool lash of wind streaking past me, through my hair and over my skin. It made me realize how good the air smelled, so sharp and fresh. I could feel my heart acutely in my chest, the way my breath churned through my lungs and escaped in excited puffs through my open lips. I felt alive, utterly recklessly, beautifully alive.
“This is great!” I shouted into the wind.
King laughed harder.
We rode for a long time, until my butt ached and my thighs burned.
“Feel the burn?” King shouted over his shoulder at me.
I did, in more ways than one with my body pressed so close to his. I could feel the muscles shifting in his back, rolling like waves against the shore of my pelvis.
“Yes,” I laughed.
“Wouldn’t want to ride you too hard,” he yelled back.
I buried my face in his back so that he could feel my laughter against his body.
We finally pulled off to a bar on the side of the highway, tucked away in an artificial clearing between a thick copse of evergreens. It was a long, low rectangle of poorly painted turquoise wood panels with a small sign above the door that read Eugene’s in neon pink lights. I squinted at the old school movie theatre sign that had the words, “When life gives you lemons, grab the tequila,” slotted into it.
“You play pool?” King asked as he easily swung off the bike and spun to face me.
He moved with such vitality it was like watching an athlete play his sport, with a grace and energy that took my breath away. I was relatively sure I could watch him play ping-pong and find it utterly captivating.
I gasped when he stepped forward to pluck me off the bike and set me on my high heels.
My legs wobbled as if I’d been at sea when I took my first few steps. King chuckled as he slid in to wrap an arm around my waist.
“Steady on,” he teased.
“I’m perfectly capable of walking by myself,” I sniffed.
His free hand firmly gripped the back of my neck so that I was forced to look up at him. It was a possessive, overtly familiar gesture, but I had the feeling that King was a man who took what he wanted.
And for some insane reason, at the moment, that seemed to be me.
“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to take you in my arms,” he whispered huskily, dipping down so that his lips were so, so close to mine.
“You don’t seem like the type of guy who needs an excuse,” I breathed, my sass lost to the desire that flared at his proximity.
His eyes flashed and he tugged me close with a jerk that had our bodies flushed together thigh to thigh, groin to groin, chest to chest. I shuddered against him as his hand slid from my hip over across the small of my back to the opposite side of my ass and gave it a squeeze.
“Thank you for reminding me,” he said before he kissed me.
He swallowed my gasp with his lips and filled my open mouth with his skilled, silken tongue. His taste erupted in my mouth, a combination of hot, sweet cinnamon candies and a flavor uniquely his own. I groaned and he swallowed that too. When my knees grew softer than warm butter, he banded a strong arm around my waist to keep me propped up.
When he finally broke away, I kept my eyes closed, lips open and damp, savoring every last minute of the kiss even as it dissipated like a melting candy on my tongue.