Page 10 of Steele

Right, because, with his muscles and ink, I was the only one imagining what he looked like under his clothes. “I appreciate it, Mr. Steele—”

“Most people just call me Steele, but Brett is fine, too.” He smiled. “So, are you going to let me give you a ride?”

For the second time, his words sounded more like an illicit invitation than a statement of facts. We were getting wet, and apparently, I was about to let him give me my first motorcycle ride.

I opened the passenger door, sat on the seat, and grabbed my phone from the console. I updated the app that stated the vehicle would be unoccupied, confirmed my plate number, and requested text message updates. Then I turned off the hazard lights and reached into the back seat for my sweater. I slung my purse over my shoulder and followed him to the motorcycle.

Steele unbuckled the leather saddlebag and pulled out a heavy flannel jacket. “Put this on. It’s going to get cold if we get caught in the rain.”

I exchanged my purse for the flannel and put it on over my sweater. “Do you have a helmet in there?” I asked peering over his shoulder into the deep leather side bag.

“Afraid not.” He buckled the bag closed. “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.”

I snorted a laugh, and I slipped my arms into the jacket. The flannel carried the faint scent of his cologne and the hint of leather and exhaust from the bag.

He rested his hand on the seat of the bike. His gaze met mine, then slipped lower, setting off tiny explosions of heat deep inside me. “You’re safer with me on the bike, then you are out here alone waiting on a stranger.”

“All I know about you is what Lili has told me.”

He groaned and rolled his shoulders. “She has the unique perspective of her mother’s filter. I promise, you can trust me.”

“Said the scorpion to the frog.”

He tilted his head.

“You know the fable. The scorpion promises not to sting the frog or they’d both drown.”

“I’m not sure I know that one.”

“I guess I’m trying to say if you crash, I crash, so we won’t crash, right?”

“All you have to do is relax and enjoy the ride.” A dark and filthy chuckle escaped his lips. Or maybe it was just that everything about him seemed dark and filthy. Edgy and dangerous. And now I was going to have my thighs spread around his hips, and I assumed I’d have to hold on to some part of him.

He straddled the bike and started the engine. “Grab onto me.”

Oh my god. The smell, the voice, the muscles, and the scary devil patch on the back of his vest blended into an intoxicating cocktail of emotions I hadn’t felt in a long time.

The foreign feelings had my heart racing and my nerves electrified. Maybe it was the motorcycle. Maybe it was the dark night and incoming storm. Maybe it was this man that didn’t seem to camouflage who he was behind a suit and tie. Men like him wore their truths with the patches on their vests.

“Step on the footpeg and throw your other leg over.”

I was a cyclone of energy as I placed my hand on his shoulder, climbed onto the motorcycle, and settled on the passenger seat behind him.

“You can adjust. Get comfortable. You can hold onto my shoulders, but I’d prefer you to wrap your arms around my waist.”

I slid my hand around the soft leather of his vest, bringing me closer to him. Even with the layers of clothing between us, my nipples responded to the pressure of my body touching his.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Where am I going?”

“I live in The Hills.”

“Once we get closer, you can direct me where to go.” Brett rolled the throttle, the pipes growled, and the engine’s vibration rumbled through me. Light reflected off the striping on the road. After a moment, the lines blurred, wind whipped around me, and the bike roared down the highway.

I wanted to turn around, almost as if to say goodbye to my little car, but I was too petrified to do anything but breathe. My fingers curled into Brett’s shirt, but I didn’t care.

As we rolled down the road, the wind tangled his long hair with mine. Fear slowly morphed into a rush of adrenaline. When he changed lanes, the bike surged forward. My tummy swooped, and my heart rabbited. I clung to his waist, closed my eyes, and felt the exhilaration. I must have startled because he covered my hand with his, pressing my palm against the scallops of his abdomen.

After a couple of minutes, I relaxed into the ride. Brett zoomed down the highway, but not so fast that I was scared. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, and endorphins had me high. The wind was cool on my cheeks, and a light rain kissed my eyes and lips, mixing with the tears.