“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
She moves to the center, and I watch her with wide eyes, needing something … anything to focus on that isn’t my imminent death. “Hold tight, Killjoy,” Tanner says as the cheerleader raises her hand high in the sky, pausing to make a show out of her two seconds of fame. “Don’t fucking let go. You need to stay so fucking tight to my back that I feel the heat of your tight little cunt rubbing against me.”
“Fucking kill me now.”
“Clear, Killjoy?” he questions, his eyes glued to the cheerleader. “I lean, you lean.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Repeat it to me.”
“I lean, you lean.”
His hand squeezes mine for only a moment before returning to the handlebar, and despite how terrified I am of turning into roadkill, I know I can trust him. Hell, despite my desperation to pull away, he’s one of the only people in my life who I trust.
How messed up is that? Tanner Morgan has weaseled his way into my soul and resides there as if he’s entitled to it. Shit, he’s such an asshole.
I lean, you lean.
Why the hell does that speak to me on such a deep level?
As the cheerleader drops the scrap of material, the bikes take off, spitting dust from beneath their tires. My eyes bug out of my head, my heart lurching in my chest and racing faster than the bikes ever could. My stomach all but sinks out my ass, and I’m pretty sure my whole fucking soul just left my body.
I tighten my grip around Tanner’s strong waist, my nails digging in. “HOOOOOOOOLLLYYYY FUUCCKKKKKKKIIINNNGGGG SSHHHHIIIITTTTTTT,” I scream, my throat immediately going raw.
Terror plagues me as the world whips by at a million miles an hour. I feel Tanner’s heartbeat beneath my hand, and he’s cool, calm, and collected. He’s confident and sailing around the track as though he’s done this a million times before, and I suppose he has.
My head ducks down, curling behind his back and blocking the wind from whipping me in the face. He goes so fast that the people around the track blur, the only other solid figure is our opponent’s bike, directly beside us, its rider determined to get ahead.
Before I know it, we’re approaching the first corner. “TANNER, I SWEAR TO—”
“I LEAN, YOU LEAN,” he calls over the roar of the engines.
And not a second later, we hit the corner.
Clenching my eyes, I let out a breath and let my body glide to the side, following Tanner as he leans into the corner, the track seeming to come closer and closer to my face, and before I know it, the bike is hitting the straight and I’m upright once again.
Fucking hell. The second this is done, I’m jamming his helmet right up his ass.
As we complete the first lap, my body starts to relax, and rather than clenching my arms around his body, I simply hold him, getting used to the feel of it and starting to finally enjoy myself. I raise my head from behind him, letting the wind cut past me, sending my golden waves flowing out behind me.
Shit, if I hadn’t taken those few shots before he decided this was a good idea, it could have gone very differently. Though one thing is for sure, the vibration of the seat beneath me and the way I’m pressed right up against him has the inside seam of my jeans rubbing against my clit, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to come undone in front of all these people.
Feeling me relaxing behind him, he turns his head as if to glance over his shoulder but keeps his sharp gaze locked on the track ahead, always watching his opponent and calculating every moment. “There she is,” he tells me. “I was worried you couldn’t cut it for a moment.”
A laugh booms from my chest as we ride side by side with this guy. My gaze lingers on him, watching as he pushes his bike to its limits, desperate to keep up with us as Tanner expertly maneuvers around each of the corners.
A grin pulls at my lips and my hand slips up under his shirt, right where it belongs, loving the feel of his toned abs beneath. We cross over the starting line again, one lap to go. “Hey Tanner,” I call, pressing my chest firmer against his, rocking my hips forward and gasping at the intense pleasure pressing against my core.
He turns his head again and my other hand moves up to his shoulder, getting far too comfortable on the back of this thing. “What?”
“Are you done playing with him yet?”
He laughs, a cocky grin pulling at the corner of his lips. “Why?”
“I don’t want you to just win,” I tell him. “I want you to smoke him.”
I feel his appreciative groan vibrating through his chest, and not a moment later, Tanner hits the fucking gas, launching the bike forward. A sharp yelp tears from my throat, making me wonder if he’d been holding back just to keep me from freaking out. The other bike is left in our dust, the crowd cheering for their defending champion as we fly around the track.