***
The call I placed was to the motorcycle shop where I bought all my gear. After a quick conversation, I put in an order for a pair of jeans for Skylar, riding boots, and a leather jacket, helmet, and gloves. I made another call to one of my assistants after and had them go down to pick everything up for her and bring it back to my place.
Now, she was standing in my garage, dark denim jeans hugging her hips and legs, trying to get her helmet in place.
“Here,” I said, stepping close to her and holding the bottom of the helmet. I tilted her head up a bit so I could see the chin strap, and I began doing it up for her.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Takes practice, especially when you can’t see what you’re doing. There. You’re all set.” I stood back as if I was admiring my work. I was really admiring her. All of her.
I drank in her long, lean legs that I now knew the strength of after she’d straddled me the night before. She looked smoking in the leather jacket and black riding boots. “You look like a badass,” I told her. Even with my bag over her shoulders, she looked the part of a serious female rider. She could have been on the cover of a magazine.
“I feel like one,” she said, playfully popping out her hip and pretending to have a cigarette pinched between her fingers.
I laughed and swung my leg over the side of the Ducati. “Come on, climb up. I’ve got the bike. Brace yourself on my back if you have to.”
Skylar put one foot on the peg and swung herself up and over. Her thighs grazed the outsides of mine as she inched closer. “What do I hold on to?” she called.
“Just wrap your arms around me,” I said before flipping my visor down. “It’s about to get pretty noisy!”
She nodded that she had heard me and then wrapped her arms around my waist. The feeling of her holding on to me was thrilling. My stomach flipped, my palms grew sweaty in my gloves, and as I turned the bike over and revved the engine, I found myself wishing the moment could stretch on just a little bit longer.
I guided us out of the garage and down the driveway. As we picked up speed closer to the highway, Skylar’s grip around me tightened. I lowered my left hand from the handlebar and closed it over hers to reassure her. This was nothing. This was child’s play. I wasn’t going to open up and ride the way I usually did when she was on the back. That would just be foolish.
I’d scare the daylights out of her.
Instead, I took it easy, taking corners lazily and gracefully to give her a smooth ride. I stayed off the main roads after taking the exit that would lead us to our destination, and I followed the snaking road until we reached it.
A park, sprawling and empty save for a few young families, came into view.
I parked the bike and turned the engine off. Skylar got off first and began trying to get her helmet off. She failed at it, and I could hear her muttering to herself beneath the helmet. I motioned her forward with one finger and helped her get it off while I was still sitting on the bike.
She pulled the helmet off, and her mane of hair tumbled over her shoulders, glittering in the sunlight. She fixed me with that beautiful stare of hers. “You look pretty hot on a bike,” she said. “It’s too bad there are so many people around.”
I flipped up my visor and winked at her. “You have no idea what I would do to you right now if we were alone.”
She giggled and stepped back as I got off the Ducati. I took off my helmet and ran my fingers through my hair to tame it. I took the bag from her shoulders and slung it over my back.
“Shall we?” I offered her my hand.
She took it and I led her out of the parking lot toward a shaded spot under a massive oak tree with sprawling branches and dense leaves.
We settled down on the grass, and I opened the bag I had brought. I withdrew a thin blanket for us to sit on and the Tupperware containers I had packed full of snacks.
Skylar watched with wide eyes as I laid out the spread. “Did you cut up those mini sandwiches?” she asked, pointing at the tomato, cucumber, and cream cheese sandwiches I had prepared earlier in the day while she was showering.
“As a matter of fact, I did. I also scooped this salsa into this container all on my own, and managed to cut up this cheese to eat with these crackers. I know, I’m amazing.”
Skylar giggled and rubbed her hands on her thighs. “This is perfect, Greyson.”
I was glad to hear it because perfect was exactly what I was going for.
We sat back to enjoy our picnic upon the plaid blanket. Bees buzzed around us, and this didn’t seem to bother Skylar. She watched their lazy, clumsy bodies hover around the plates of food and never tried to shoo them away. I watched her all the while.
The sun caught her hair through the openings in the leaves above every now and then, and when it did, my breath caught in my throat. The light would strike her eyes, too, making them brighter and bolder. Her cheeks were glowing and pink, and her lips were plump.
She had taken off the leather jacket and was wearing nothing but the white tank top she had worn the night before. It was short, leaving a couple inches of her stomach exposed.
When we finished eating, I grazed one finger over that exposed bare skin. She flinched and laid herself down, propping herself up on her elbows.
I stayed where I was on my side beside her. I let my hand wander up her stomach and over her breasts where I caressed the skin of her cleavage with the softest of touches. Her nipples appeared through her white shirt.
I reached up and buried a hand in her hair. I drew her down to me and kissed her. She tasted like summertime. Sweet and fresh. Her lips were softer than ever. Her kiss was breathless and a little desperate, and when we pulled apart, her cheeks were redder than ever.
She giggled and laid down flat beside me, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me, Greyson.”
“And you me,” I said, unable to stop myself from touching her thigh. I needed to be touching her at all times. I craved her closeness more than I had ever craved anything in my life.
It was going to be hard when she left.
I was afraid I might fall to my knees and beg her to stay in Las Vegas; beg her to stay with me.