Biker's Virgin

So maybe, just maybe, I was ready. Ready to start something fresh, something that could breathe life back into my stitched-up heart. But if anything was going to happen, it had to happen on its own and it had to be taken slowly. There would be no sen

se in rushing anything. I was on the verge of feeling ready, but not quite prepared to jump. But I was getting there.

A knock on the front door jolted me out of my thoughts and brought me back to the present. I checked the kitchen clock. Emerson was right on time.

I'd planned to take the bus to my parents' house for the barbecue, but Emerson insisted on taking me on his bike—not that it had taken much arm twisting to get me to agree.

I checked in the mirror one last time to make sure my makeup and hair were in place and then I opened the door. Emerson was standing there with a big grin on his face.

“Hey, Brooke!”

“Hi, Emerson, you're right on time!”

“Always,” he said with a wink. “You ready?”

“Yep.”

“Great, let's go.”

We walked downstairs and headed out to his bike, which he hopped onto and started up. Now that I’d had some experience riding on the back, I felt a lot less nervous about being on the monster of a machine. In fact, I felt pretty excited.

I climbed up onto the back and wrapped my arms around Emerson. A hot thrill shot through my veins as my hands slid over his rock-hard, bulging abs before I locked my fingers together. It was night and day compared to Andrew's very average, slightly soft belly.

I almost instinctively ran my hands up a bit higher, wanting to feel his broad, solid chest, but I stopped myself.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled through his helmet.

“Yeah, I'm good,” I said.

“Great. Hang on!” He clicked the machine into gear and took off. I tightened my grip. He must have realized I was more comfortable on the motorcycle because he was driving a fair bit faster than he had the first time I rode with him. I couldn't deny it was still a little scary, but also thrilling… and a turn on. It was pretty hot seeing how smoothly and confidently he was able to control such a powerful machine.

We arrived at the barbecue half an hour later. I dismounted with a huge grin plastered across my face. Emerson chuckled.

“It looks like someone isn’t so afraid of motorcycles now, huh? You look like a kid who's just gotten off a rollercoaster.”

I blushed and almost giggled, but tried not to come off as too much of a schoolgirl about it. “It was fun,” I said, keeping it simple and smiling. “I felt a lot less nervous this time around. Oh, and just so you know, my dad will probably want to see your motorcycle. He was very much into them when he was younger. I think he even used to race when he was our age.”

“Sweet. I guess we'll have a lot to talk about then.”

“I guess you will,” I replied with a smile. “Come, let's go in and say hi.”

We had to walk through the house to get the backyard where everyone was gathered. Having Emerson with me felt a little strange, especially considering the last time I had been home with a guy it had been Andrew. Still, I put the weirdness aside and walked in.

My mother was in the kitchen putting some final touches on the salad. “Brooke, dear!” she said with a smile as soon as she caught sight of me, hurrying over to give me a big hug.

She then saw Emerson, waiting in the wings to be introduced. She smiled at him and extended a hand, which he took. “You must be Emerson,” she said with a smile. “Lovely to meet you.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Mrs. Baker,” he said. “Thanks so much for inviting me here this afternoon. I really appreciate it.”

“Oh, please, call me Cam. And the more the merrier, I always say,” she added with a laugh. “We've got a huge feast prepared for y'all! Go on out back and say hi to your dad, BeeBee, and introduce Emerson to the others. I've gotta finish up this salad, then I'll see you outside.”

“Thanks,” said Emerson. “I can't wait to try that salad, it looks amazing.”

“Old family recipe,” she replied. “You'll never look at salad the same way again after trying this!”

“I suspect that might be the case!” he replied.

“Come on, Emerson, let's go outside and meet the others,” I suggested.