Bad Boy Rich - Page 27
“I can’t get on that.” I shake my head in panic. “I could die. I don’t want to die.”
He doesn’t say a word, handing me a helmet.
I stand still, frozen almost. He pulls off his helmet, hair a wild mess but looking so sexy that my insides do that fluttering backflip again. Calm down…it’s all a ploy to get me on the bike. I’m not sure why I take the helmet from him, staring at it with fear. The warmth of his finger graces my cheek, tracing it down until he cups my chin and raises my eyes to meet his.
The weight of his stare is deep; drawing me in with its dangerous intentions.
“Don’t you think it’s time to start living?”
“I’m living,” I whisper in his touch.
His hand guides my chin closer to his, creating this small gap between us. It’s so small that his breath reaches my lips and nothing makes sense. I have no thought process, I have no words. He’s doing something to me that I cannot explain. Breaking my walls down into a crumbling mess.
His lips graze across my mouth; sensually and with a slow burn. My eyes close on cue, allowing myself to feel this sensation of lust.
“I want to take you somewhere.”
I react timidly. “I’m scared.”
His forehead presses against mine, his words strained. “I won’t hurt you.”
I pull my body away from his, distancing this closeness and placing my helmet on. He could hurt me. Yet I get on his bike, wrapping my arms around his body which comforts me instantly. He jumps on the gas, rubbing his hand on my thigh, warning me to hold on.
I hold on, awaiting
this adventure with Wesley Rich.
The tires brake hard against the gravel causing a whirl of dust to float in the air around us. My hands are shaking uncontrollably; making it difficult to peel them off his chest and the leather jacket he wore.
My foot touches the ground giving me the confidence I needed to get off the bike, take this stupid helmet off, and shove it into his body.
“Hey,” he yells, off guard. “What the hell was that for?”
“You’re a jerk!” I huff, angered by his reckless driving and not paying attention to the way I dug my hands into his chest in fear.
“Milana, calm down.” He rolls his eyes with annoyance. “You’re alive. See, you just need to live a little.”
“Living a little is eating a whole cake by yourself or jumping in the ocean naked,” I respond hastily, still shaking, “Not driving like a maniac almost killing me!”
He grabs the helmet from me, hooking it on the handle bar. “You want to jump in the ocean naked? I’m all for doing that next. Malibu is only a few miles from here.”
“What?” I shake my head, confused by his suggestion. “No, it was just rambling. I didn’t want to actually do that…”
I trail off, distracted by my surroundings. It’s incredibly dark; the moon hidden behind a scattered cloud. I scan the area in front of me that appears to be a large park of some sort. It’s only when I focus on the lawn that I see tombstones. We were at a cemetery.
“What are we doing here?” My hand latches to his arm, my body closing in on his to shield myself from the terrifying thought of where we were standing.
“Do you trust me?”
“Are you going to kill me and bury my body in the middle of the night?”
Even in the dark, I see the smile grace his handsome face. He drops his hand, intertwining his fingers in mine. He pulls me along the pebbled path, confident and familiar with where he is leading us.
“Watch your step.”
The cool night air and fear of dead people surrounding me causes my skin to break out in goose bumps with my hairs standing on end. I didn’t want to let on I was shitting my pants, keeping my thoughts to myself though my eyes told a different story.
“See this grave here? It belonged to an actor—Jesse Lane. He was a rising star back in the sixties.”
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