Fucking Hell! He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I don’t know what changed today to make him open to a bit of crazy, but I’m not gonna question it. I snatch the half-helmet from his hands, pulling the silk scarf from around my neck and tying it around my hair bandana-style to lessen the mess this damn thing is sure to bring. I’m slightly surprised he’s got a helmet at all. I’d rather just go without, but Mr. Grumpy insists. I slide onto the bike, noticing that he looks so fucking sexy right now in just his sweaty, grease-streaked tank top, jeans, and sunglasses that I can practically feel my pussy quivering.

It only takes a momentary look down at my mini-skirt to overcome any worries I might have about looking like a tramp. Fuck it. I hike the damn thing up a little higher than is decent to straddle the seat behind him. I adjust to make sure I’m not flashing anyone, but before I get really settled, he twists the throttle, startling me. “What—whoa!”

Evan glances over his shoulder, a sexy taunting smirk on his lips. “Good? Got your helmet on?”

“Go!” I holler as I grab around his waist right as he takes off, offering a huge grin to Brad as I see him glaring open-mouthed at me through the salon window.

Sorry, Brad, but when an opportunity like this presents itself, I gotta roll with it. I know I said I’d answer phones while you see clients, but you’ll understand!

Besides, I wouldn’t hold it against him if he ditched me for a little fun. Well . . . not too much, at least, and I know I’d get over it! So, oopsie, babe. He’ll forgive me, though, because a hot guy on a bike is always a priority.

We thunder down Main Street, passing by Rose’s boutique, a ranch supply store with an older white-haired guy sitting outside in a rocking chair, and several other little storefronts. Once you hit the northern part of town, there’s a lot of tourist trap-looking little places that try and soak up as many tourist dollars from the resort hotel people as they can.

We pass a casino that marks the boundary between the Native American reservation land and the town. Evan twists the throttle as we head up into the mountains.

We ride for what seems to be hours, and I can feel the tension leave his body incrementally, the same way it does mine as we go higher into the forested peaks surrounding the town. I feel at one with the bike and with Evan as we lean into turns, our bodies synchronized with the curves of the road.

Even though we’re probably going a lot faster than the speed limit, I never feel a moment of fear as I tightly squeeze Evan’s muscular waist. As my sheer excitement of being behind him settles into a calmness at the freedom of flying down the road, the vibrations between my legs get impossible to ignore. The beastly engine between our legs sends trembles through his seat and the thin layer of my panties, adding to the powerful scent of Evan filling my nostrils. I press my nose closer to his broadly muscled back, barely concealed by his tank top and the jeans that stretch across his powerful thighs.

I lean forward more, pressing my chest to his back to feel his warmth and his muscles rippling as he rides, the back of his dirty blonde hair whipping back beside me and caressing my cheek.

Yep, this might just be the hottest thing I’ve ever done . . . so far. I arch my back a little, changing the angle of the vibrations between my legs so that the rumbling purr hits right on my clit, and I feel it throughout my pussy, knowing I’ve soaked my panties and that I’m probably going to leave a spot on his seat.

I have a twinge of embarrassment at the thought but then decide I rather like marking my territory, even if it’s just for a passing moment. We keep riding, far out of town into the mountains that line the landscape, and he pulls over in a gravel parking lot. Looking around, the first thing I notice is that this place looks like an abandoned gas station, one of those old-time country stops that probably closed up when people started taking the Interstate everywhere.

The second thing that hits me is the immense beauty of where we are. I can’t hear anything except the twitter of birds, the soft rush of mountain breezes, and far away, maybe somewhere below us . . . water. “Where are we?”

“Come on,” Evan says, getting off the bike and stomping away. “I’ll show you what sometimes keeps me from going insane.”

I gawk as he just walks off, and I debate for a moment whether I should follow him. I’m glad I’m not wearing the highest of my high heels, but still, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s snakes in that overgrown path he’s headed toward.

“Come on,” Evan calls back. “It’s not far. Just about a hundred feet.”

Fuck it. I follow him, carefully watching each step. Sure, snakes may not like dealing with jeans and combat boots like Evan’s wearing, but high heels and stockings? Yeah, zero fucks given there. If I get bitten, I’m kicking his ass.

We make our way through the line of trees, and all of my worries disappear as we step into what I can only describe as a slice of paradise. We’re on the edge of a small clearing, maybe fifty feet across and less than twenty deep, the other side ending in a cliff face that drops off vertically. I have a spectacular view of a valley below us, with a lake at the bottom. The water I hear is a hydroelectric dam creating an artificial waterfall that drops off out of my sight to the right.

Evan is just sitting in the grass, quietly taking in the sight. “What is this place?” I ask.

He’s silent, and for a second, I think he’s not gonna answer. “My escape,” he finally murmurs, keeping his eyes on the water far below. “When I really need to, I come up here. It keeps me sane.”

I sit down next to him, just taking it all in. Within a few minutes, I can see the tenseness inside him let loose, making me relax. We stay there, and as the sun begins to dip lower into the afternoon sky, there’s a warm orange glow surrounding us. I lay my cheek against his shoulder, taking in the lovely view with a hum of appreciation.

After a moment, he growls, shrugging. “Get off.”

I’m flustered, the hardness of his voice unexpected in the peaceful moment, but I do as he says, half-wondering if he’s going to just leave me here. I still haven’t heard anything but the rush of water below us or the twitter of the birds.

Evan gets up and storms out of the clearing, and I follow him as best I can. “Evan, come on. If I break a heel, I swear I’m going to—”

Evan gets to his bike and leans against it sideways, his thick arms crossed over his chest. He looks like a fucking sex god in the afternoon light, and I stop, my heart speeding up and my still tingling pussy screaming at me THIS! NOW!

His eyes are full of fire, and his voice is gravelly as he says, “C’mere.”

I step forward before my mind even registers the command. I just know that there’s nothing I want more than to run my hands over the muscles straining against the thin cotton of his tank top or to taste the sweat glistening on his skin.

He pins me with his eyes, snarling as I get close enough that he pulls me against him. “What are you doing, Princess? You think I couldn’t feel you rubbing your nipples into my back, moaning as you ground your sweet little pussy against the seat behind me? How many times did you come, Princess?”

I flush, catching the nickname that irks me, but I’m still embarrassed. I didn’t come, but damn if I don’t want to.

He moves a hand to the strap of my top, slowly watching as he slides it off my shoulder. I’m not wearing a bra underneath. It’s one of those clingy tops that they say doesn’t need a bra. I think he’s giving me time to say no, but that’s sure as fuck not happening.

Or maybe he’s trying to stop himself. With that thought in mind, I arch, lifting my tits up in offering to tease him. “They’re even softer once you take them the rest of the way out.”

He grabs me roughly around my waist, pulling me to him, and just before he touches me, he looks into my eyes. “You sure you want this? I ain’t offering anything but right now. You know that, right?”

I thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him to my breast. He needs this. Fuck, I need this. “Evan, quit thinking. Let’s just have an adventure.”

Like a match to a fire, my words ignite him. With a rough jerk that I’m sure is going to ruin this top, he pulls it the rest of the way down, freeing my breasts. He licks his lips once before diving in, sucking my nipple deep into his mouth.

His tongue twists and tugs at my stiff nub while his left hand squeezes my other breast. It’s heaven, and my head falls back as I moan my pleasure to a fiery sky. Sure, we’re on the side of the road, and if anyone does happen to come up here, they can see my goodies displayed for the whole world, but I don’t fucking care. If anything, it adds to the thrill.

Evan runs a hand down my side to my thigh, pulling my leg up. “Put the ball of your shoe on my seat, but don’t touch the leather with that spiky heel or I’m gonna be pissed.”

I do as he orders, feeling my skirt hike up my thigh almost to my waist as my knee nears my shoulder, exposing my panties to him. He slides a rough, calloused hand up my inner thigh, pausing to play at the lacy edge. I whimper, bucking my hips against his finger, trying to get what my body craves.

With a snarl, he grabs the delicate fabric and rips them from my body, draping them over the handlebars of his bike with a feral smile. “Let me feel how wet your pussy is from riding with me. You never told me if you came on my bike. Did you come already?”

He’s running his fingers through my lips, spreading the moisture from my clit to my asshole, and I’m barely coherent. “No.” I groan, my head swimming. “But I need it.”

“Good,” he says, bringing his fingers through my lips again. “It’s all mine then.”

Before I can even think of a reply, he thrusts two fingers deep into my pussy without warning, immediately curling them forward to press toward my front wall as his thumb swipes across my clit.

I cry out in pleasure, and he does it again, trapping me helplessly between what my body wants and keeping my balance. I’m a prisoner of desire and physics, unable to move as he finger fucks me hard and rough. I grab his head, pulling him back to my breasts in a desperate attempt to feel more, and he takes my nipple back into his mouth with little bites. I’m lost to the pleasure, screaming out disjointedly. “Fuck, Evan . . . yesss . . . God . . . please.”

His lips never leave my chest as he orders me, “Come for me, Princess. All over my hand, right here on my bike. Come. Now.”

I fall off the edge into the abyss, screaming out his name as I’m overtaken with shudders of pleasure. It’s been too long, and Evan’s playing me like a guitar, knowing just what I need to get the maximum release.

As I come back to reality, I catch him staring at me, a smile across his face, and I feel like that smile is just as much a gift as the amazing orgasm he just gave me. Well, maybe not as good, but damn close.

I move back, setting both feet on the ground before starting to bend down, my hands going to the button on his jeans.

Before I can kneel, he grabs my arms. “No, you’re not getting yourself all dirty, Princess.”

My hands not leaving his waist, I can already see the outline of his cock, feel the ridge of it of against my hand. I give him my best pouty face, which considering my plump lips and smeared makeup, is probably dripping with sex. “But what about you? Hand job?”

He smirks and adjusts himself, pulling his leg back and over his motorcycle. “This was just about you. Get back on.”

I look at him for a moment, disappointed I’m not getting to pleasure him but still too high from my own orgasm to question it. If a man like him wants to make me come without reciprocation . . . well, I’m not going to complain. Part of my mind knows this will take time, but it’ll be worth it.

I reach for my panties, intending to put the ripped lace inside the stretched remains of my top, but he stops me. “Oh, no, Princess. Those are staying right there. Souvenir of our adventure and all. Get on. I’ll take you home.”

I laugh, thinking sure, why the hell not? and climb on the back of his motorcycle, pulling my helmet on and squeezing his hips with my thighs as I scoot as close to him as I can, knowing that he can feel my already stiff nipples against his back again.

He yells back to tell me to hang on, and we’re off again, heading back to town. Main Street is quiet by the time we get back, most of the businesses closed and everyone gone home for the night.

He pulls up in front of the salon, shutting off the bike, and I’m shocked by the sudden eerie silence. I climb off, adjusting my skirt to cover myself, and he smirks, patting the red lace on the bars.

A thought occurs to me. “Hey, how’d you know this is home too?”

I see a flash across his eyes. “I do a lot of my best work at night. Nobody’s around to fuck with me. Sometimes, I even sleep here. There’s a bed up on the second floor that I use when I don’t feel like going home. I see everyone coming and going along the street. Maybe not as much as Old Earl, but watching what’s happening around me is deeply ingrained in me. I know you barely drive your car, so I figured you must be living in an apartment above the salon.”

I feel a warmth inside, even if it is silly. “You’ve been watching me?” He thinks I’m judging him, nervous at his surveillance, but he nods his head once. “Good. That makes me feel safe. Thanks for looking out for me. And uh, Evan? Trust me, I’m well aware that I can look directly into your garage and watch you working up a sweat. My best day this week was when you were working on that Camaro and took your shirt off. I damn near missed the timer alarm I set for a client’s highlights because I was staring out the window at you.”

He grins, leaning against his handlebars. “You’ve been watching me?”

I nod, biting my lip to contain my laughter. He cups my face, leaning in for a soft kiss. It’s different from the kisses we’ve had before. There’s not fire but tenderness . . . and the thrilling promise that no matter what Evan said in that dirt parking lot, this isn’t over.

When it’s over, he leans back, whispering into my hair. “You pervy stalker. Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

My laughter escapes, Evan even letting out a chortle, which I’m taking as major progress for the stoic man. “Yeah, well, you already got your trophy. I’m just gonna have to get my own sometime.”

“We’ll see,” Evan says, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, Princess.”

“Goodnight, Evan.”

I turn, walking into the salon. He waits while I lock the door, then he pats the lacy handlebars one more time without looking at me, and I think maybe he doesn’t even know he did it, but he fires up the bike, shooting across the lanes of traffic and into the garage.

I head upstairs to sleep, excited that he’s just mere steps away.