FRIDAY DAWNED CLEAR and blue. The brisk air snuck through leaky windows and gaps in the floor. Sunny days would be rare over the next few months. With a day off and no plans, I decided to take the Triumph for a ride up the island. Dry roads, clear skies, and the perfect day lay ahead of me. In preparation for winter’s long, dark, damp days, islanders spent as much time outside on the non-wet days as possible, storing up Vitamin D and the feel of warmth on our skin to last us for months.
After breakfast, I tugged on my leather jacket over a thermal and flannel. The cold air required extra layers, and I sported long johns under my jeans. I tucked a thermos of coffee in the saddlebag. Gloves on, visor down, I revved the engine and plotted my route north.
I took the left after Freeland and drove up past the State Park. At Greenbank, I stopped at the store and grabbed a sandwich. I sped along Ebey’s Spit before Fort Casey. Nowhere to be, I meandered to Route 20, and headed north. On the open road, I let the bike go, leaning down and into the curves. Out of nowhere another motorcycle passed me on the left, leaving me in their exhaust as they took the curve around Penn Cove fast. The bike appeared to be an orange painted vintage BMW. I accelerated, hoping to catch up with them.
The driver turned his head and gave me a wave with a gloved hand as we passed the old drive-in. Wearing an insulated suit and black helmet with the visor down, they could be anyone, but seemed to know me. I lost them in Oak Harbor, but guessed they’d gone north.
Near Deception Pass, I finally caught up to the bike. Finding out who was riding had become more than curiosity. This game of cat and mouse both intrigued and annoyed me.
Right before the bridge, the BMW pulled off the road and stopped fast, creating a small spray of gravel on the shoulder. I slowed to a stop about five yards away and waited with my engine purring.
If the mystery rider were a woman, all sorts of dirty thoughts floated through my mind. I bet we could find a secluded spot in the park, maybe over a picnic table. If the mystery rider were a man, who the hell was he and why the random chase?
I didn’t have to wait long. With a kick to the stand, she stood up. Right, she. Even with the nondescript, ill-fitting cold suit, I could tell she was a woman. Long legs and a nice ass.
We might need that picnic table after all.
Gloves off, she reached for her helmet as she walked toward me. I kept mine on, liking this game we were playing. She flicked the chin strap and tugged off the helmet, revealing familiar brown hair.
“Hey, Tom.” She greeted me with a smile.
I removed my helmet. My own, slow, sly smile returned hers. “Hey, Idaho. Didn’t know you rode.”
“No? Funny the things you don’t know.” She continued her slow walk to my bike.
I cut the engine. “You drive a R90s?”
She grinned. “I do.”
“You paint it that hideous orange color?”
Her smile faltered and her eyes narrowed. Her bottom lip pursed in a sexy pout. “You disappoint me, Tom. You should know Daytona Orange is factory.”
“Where’d you get a vintage BMW bike?” I studied the swoop of the polished chrome twin exhaust pipes.
“It was a gift. Pretty sweet ride you have there, too.”
Did the ex buy her a motorcycle? Kurt didn’t seem the kind of guy to approve of them unless it was a new Harley to impress his friends. Maybe a previous ex?
“Thanks, it was my dad’s,” I answered.
“Mine too.”
“Your dad gave you a motorcycle?” I imagined my sisters’ faces if Dad gave them such a gift. Delight would not be top of their reactions.
“I asked for it when I went to college. Didn’t want or need a car in Seattle, but a motorcycle? That—”
I cut her off. “Made you the coolest girl on campus.”
She laughed and swung her helmet by its strap. “Something like that.”
“Why the long chase to here?”
“I recognized your bike when you pulled on to 20, so I passed you to make sure it was you. I didn’t think you’d follow me. Or is that something you do? Chase random women on motorcycles?”
“I couldn’t tell if you were a girl or a guy,” I said in defense.
She raised an eyebrow and licked the corner of her mouth.
“Wait, that didn’t come out right. I meant, I was more curious about the passing and waving. You seemed to know me.”
“You were curious.”
“Always.”
“What if I had been another woman?” She stalked closer.
I waited like a lion watching a gazelle cross my line of sight. I shrugged. “Hard to say, but I’m more than happy you’re here.”
“Why do you always expect me to make the first move?” she whispered a few inches away. Her warm breath brushed my cheek.
“I think you like it.” I turned my head and trailed my nose against her jaw, but when I got to the tender flesh under her ear, her head jerked away.
“I think you’re used to women throwing themselves at you and you’ve never had to work for it before.”
She had a point.
I tipped my head and gave her my slow, easy grin, guaranteed to incinerate underwear. Steel ran through her veins. No smile, no frown, not even an eye-twitch. I released the second dimple and ducked my head.
The last thing I expected from her was laughter. With her head thrown back, she laughed so hard she snorted.
“What?” I asked.
She’d lost her mind.
“You’re ridiculous.” She swallowed the last of her laughter and attempted a serious face.
Not a word any man wanted to hear when he worked his tricks. “Ridiculous?”
“Does that look really work?”
I frowned.
“It does!”
“You’re great on a man’s ego.” I scowled. “Didn’t hear you complaining before.”
“Your ego will be fine. I’ll tell you a secret.” She stepped close again and I could smell a warm, floral scent. “I did have a crush on you when we were younger. You were a junior and I was in middle school. You didn’t know I existed.”
Suspicion confirmed, I smirked.
“Cocky suits you,” she said.
I reached up and grasped her neck. No escaping me now. Her helmet clattered on the ground at our feet. I had her attention. No more laughter. Her eyes focused on mine and then closed. My lips found hers, rough, determined and completely in control. She softened against my leg and I shifted to face her, wrapping my other arm around her waist.
I pulled away. My lips barely brushed against hers. “Speaking of cock, ever since you got off your bike, I’ve been thinking about your mouth on mine.”
Her gasp sucked the air from my mouth.
“Let’s find someplace more private.” I dropped my arms and started the bike.
She stood there, arms at her sides, lips swollen from my mouth, windswept, beautiful, and stunned.
“If the dimples don’t get them, the dirty talk always does.”
I could hear her bike behind me as I slowly wove my way through the campground. A few RVs were parked in the larger sites, but most were empty and exposed. Deep in the woods, a lone picnic table sat in a small clearing. Perfect.
I flipped down the stand and swung my leg off the bike, but leaned up against it while Hailey parked hers. Muffled sounds of waves against the shore below and the scent of pine greeted me when I removed my helmet again. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the clean, fresh air.
This time I stalked over to her. If she wanted me to take control, I would. The expression on her face when I told her what had been on my mind confirmed she may have liked taking the initiative, but like many women, she wanted to give up control, stop thinking, and be told what to do once in a while. I had no problem with that.
She glanced around and cocked her head to listen to an eagle in the distance. “You sure this is private?”
I shrugged. “It’s private enough.” After setting her helmet on her bike, I tugged her forward to the picnic table.
“What did you have in mind?” Her voice hesitated and paused.
“I think I made myself pretty clear up on the road.” I leaned against the table and waited to see what she’d do.
“Give me your jacket,” she demanded.
I unzipped and shrugged off the leather, arching my eyebrow when she wadded it up and dropped it on the cement platform at my feet. I loved that jacket.
She smiled and knelt.
Oh.
She looked amazing from this angle. Any man who said he didn’t love this view lied.
I braced my arms behind me on the table as she unbuckled my belt and slowly unzipped my jeans. Closing my eyes, I waited for the warmth of her mouth to engulf me.
Her laughter greeted me instead.
I opened one eye and then the other. No man ever wanted to hear giggling near his stuff.
Her hands rested on my hips and her eyes focused on my red long johns. Right. Forgot about those.
“Yes?” I asked.
“I thought men only wore these in the movies.”
“Apparently not. It’s cold on the bike.” I shrugged. “Things need to be kept warm.”
Her hand reached into the fabric and brushed against my skin. I jumped from the contact of the cool air and her fingers gripping me. Her other hand shoved the fabric down and out of the way.
She teased and poked out her tongue to touch the tip, then licked down to the base. The warmth from her tongue faded as the air chilled my skin. I rested one of my hands on her shoulder. Understanding my silent plea, she stopped her teasing and encircled the head with her mouth, her hand moving to cover what she couldn’t accommodate.
My fingers wove through the strands of her hair. I needed the extra contact to ground myself from the incredible sensations she was creating with her mouth and tongue. Being outside with the possibility of being caught amplified everything. Each lick from her tongue, drag of her teeth, and squeeze of her hand brought me closer to coming. Her moans vibrated around me and her eyes met mine.
Game over.
Like the gentleman I was, I gave her a warning. “I’m close.”
She responded by sucking in her cheeks and pulling me further into her mouth by my hips.
Answer received.
I let my hips gently thrust forward, needing more. Finding it, I closed my eyes and moaned, deep in my throat, completely lost in the sensation coursing through my body.
When I slowly blinked them open, she released me with a soft kiss and leaned on her heels, a satisfied grin on her face. With a light touch, she tucked me inside of my long johns and patted the cotton covering my waning erection.
“Did you pat me?” I asked, zipping up and adjusting myself.
“Maybe. I’m sure he’s very cozy in there.”
“It’s my dick, not a person, you know.” I offered her my hand to stand and watched her stretch.
“You didn’t name it?” She handed me my jacket, then brushed her mouth against my shoulder.
“If I did, I’m not telling.” I grabbed her face and kissed her . . . hard. My tongue met hers and I silently said my thank you. “That was amazing. We should definitely do that more often.”
Excitement lit up her eyes. “What are you doing later?”