Page 46 of Diesel's Perseverance
“In theory, yes. We’ll have to see once we get going.”
“Just follow my lead, and you’ll do fine. Now here’s the good part.” Diesel grasped Myla’s hands and placed them on each side of his waist. “Wrap your arms around me.” He looked over his shoulder and winked. “Hold on tight and press against me if you need to.”
Myla chuckled. “Is that a universal riding rule or just yours?”
He laughed. “When making turns, the passenger needs to lean forward, hug the rider, and get nice and close to him. It puts all the weight in the center of the bike. But my rule is for you to hang on to me the whole ride since you’re new to riding and all.”
“Yeah… right.”
“Once you get used to it, you can lie back and relax like when we ride on back roads or the highway if there isn’t too much traffic. For now, hang on tight.”
“No worries there. I’ll be hanging on for dear life.”
“You’re gonna love it. Just enjoy the ride. Ready?”
“Almost.” She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out a hair tie. With quick moves, she braided her tresses. “Okay, all set.”
“Here we go.”
Myla grabbed him by the hips to steady herself. He took her hands, tugged her closer to him, and she tightened her arms across his hard abs. The engine roared to life: the power she felt between her legs was exhilarating.
“I’m raising the kickstand, then we’ll be taking off,” he said.
Diesel backed the bike out of the space, then rode past the clubhouse and the sentry of trees. He waved to a couple of guys in the guardhouse who opened the iron gates for them, then he accelerated, and they were on the open road. Her grip tightened around him as the speed increased.
The wind whipped around them as they rode toward town. Myla experienced a combination of adrenaline, fear, and pleasure. The first thing she noticed after the rush of air circulating around her was the various scents and how acute they were. The pines smelled fresher, the wildflowers and plants sweeter, the grass earthier, and the exhaust fumes mustier. All her senses were heightened; she’d never experienced anything like it.
Diesel pulled into a space in front of a restaurant whose sign—propped up on a slightly lopsided roof—read Bud’s Grill and switched off the ignition. Realizing the ride was over, a thread of disappointment weaved through her.
Still feeling a rush from the ride, she staggered a little when he helped her off the bike.
“That was awesome! I never felt so alive. I can see how riding can become addictive.”
“Fuck, yeah. I’m glad you liked your first ride.”
“‘Liked? I fucking loved it!” Myla locked eyes with his gorgeous blue ones. “Thank you for that.” She grinned, snaked one arm around his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss.
Diesel’s lips brushed lightly against hers, and when she began to pull away, he crushed her to him and slipped his tongue into her mouth, licking, tasting, stroking. She welcomed the urgent thrusting that sent a wildfire of searing flames racing through her body.
“Fuck, woman,” he said against her lips before plunging deeper into her mouth.
A low moan rose from her throat, and she perfectly matched his hunger with each twirl and stroke. She felt him yank off the hair tie, undo the strands, and then his hands got lost in her tresses.
“Maybe we should skip dinner and get a room,” she whispered in his ear.
Diesel held her close. “Everything’s so fuckin’ complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
Stepping back, he released her. His forehead furrowed. “It is, though… and you know it.”
Her shoulders sagged. “You’re right, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between us.”
“Like a fuckin’ wildfire growing out of control.” He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. “I need to keep a level head if I’m going to get to the bottom of this clusterfuck with Freddy.”
She sighed. “I know.”
“I owe it to him.”
