Gift From The Bad Boy

But he left that question unanswered. He turned back around to face forward and revved the engine a couple times. It thundered down the empty avenue. Then, he let go of the clutch as he yanked back hard on the accelerator. We took off like we were shot out of a cannon.

The night was flying past me on either side. Buildings and transmission lines looked like blurs. My eyes were tearing up from the wind. In front of me, Ben let loose a wild, delirious howl. I wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. Instead, I did neither. I just held on for dear life.

“Do you trust me?” he roared over the deafening engine.

“What?” I yelled back.

“I asked if you trust me!”

“I just met you!”

“You either do or you don’t!”

I hesitated. I’d barely known this man for a few minutes, and yet here I was, desperately hanging onto him as we rocketed down the street at over a hundred miles an hour, if the speedometer was to be relied upon. But he was right. You either do or you don’t. I knew which one it was.

“Yes!” I yelled. “I trust you!”

His entire frame tensed beneath me. I didn’t know what the hell he was about to do, when all of the sudden he jerked back. The front wheel came off the ground. I couldn’t even scream anymore. This situation had gone from ridiculous to flat out unreasonable. There was no possible way I could be awake. I was either dreaming or in a coma or dead, and this was all a figment of my imagination. It just defied common sense to think I could ever be on the back of a motorcycle with a stranger, doing a wheelie at top speed at midnight. No way. Carmen Sanders would never be here.

But I was.

# # #

The silence when Ben cut off the engine was weird. The sound had worked its way so deeply into my eardrums during our short ride that I’d completely forgotten what it was like not to have that deep rumble surrounding me at all times.

We were back outside the clubhouse. The party had died down some. I saw people leaving in ones and twos, most of them on very unsteady feet. It had all the signs of a successful party.

Ben leaped off, then turned and offered a hand to help me down. I leaned against it as I climbed off unsteadily. My legs felt wobbly on solid ground.

I fished my phone out of my back pocket to check the time. I saw Lori had texted me nearly half a dozen times since we’d left. The vibration of the bike must have masked my phone buzzing. I flicked through the messages.

Are you okay?!?

Let me know when you’re back!!

Go get ’em tiger ;) xxxx

Carmen!!! Where are you??

Text me when ur back here

I texted her to tell her I was back. She immediately replied, Thank god!! We went to get pizza. Be back in fifteen minz. Love u.

I tucked my phone away again and looked up at Ben. He was studying me with a cool gaze.

“Have fun?” he asked softly.

I nodded my head yes. “Thanks for the ride,” I said.

“My pleasure. Do you want me to take you back to your friends?”

“They went to get pizza,” I explained. “They’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I see.” He drew in a slow, steady breath, then released it. “Well, I don’t want to leave you standing out here alone. Not safe for a pretty girl like you to be by herself with all these drunk assholes around.”

“Didn’t you say you were one of those?” I joked.

“Guilty as charged,” he said with a grin. He fell silent. His eyes never wavered from mine. They were steady and calm. The vibe rolling off of him was the same—unrelenting, powerful, irresistible. He was so close I could smell him. Leather and whiskey, the smoke of the motorcycle engine, and underneath, a different scent, subtler and more masculine, that came in and out, teasing me. It was like a drug. I felt dizzy. Whether from the ride, the shots, or Ben himself, I wasn’t sure.

“I’m glad I met you,” he said in a quiet voice.

“I’m glad I met you, too. I don’t get out much.”

“Well, good thing you chose tonight.”

“Yeah. Good thing.”

Then his hands were on my hips and his lips were on mine. It was as sudden and stomach-turning as the acceleration of the bike had been. But this time, my feet were planted firmly on the earth. So why did I still feel like I was racing through the night?

He tasted exactly like he smelled, the same swirling combination of dark and light, strong and soft. His beard rasped against my face, but his fingertips rested gently on the waist of my leather jeans. Even in my ridiculous heels and with him folded over towards me, I had to stretch to reach his mouth.