“Good girl,” he said, pulling on his own helmet. “Just sit behind me and hold on tight.”
He swung his leg over the bike and patted the seat behind him. She took a deep breath and edged closer. The seat wasn’t high, and she managed to get her leg across. Tentatively she slid forward so she was pressed up against him, the V of her thighs tight to his ass, and heat washed through her. He turned to the side, no doubt so she could hear him through the helmet. “Try to relax and go with the movement of the bike.” As he switched on the engine, vibrations shuddered through her core. Her arms wrapped around his waist so the whole front of her body was pressed up against his back. Her breasts swelled; her sex flooded. He revved the engine and she pressed even closer. Then they were off.
At first she held herself tense, her hands gripping his hard abs through the material of his shirt. But his driving was smooth and assured. They were deep in the city, and though there was little traffic at this time of day, the speed limits were low. Finally she relaxed enough to appreciate how close they were. She loosened the grip of her fingers and splayed them across his belly, feeling the rock hard stomach beneath her palm. She couldn’t resist, and one hand slid lower to push under his shirt and onto the hot satin skin beneath. He tensed a little and then relaxed. She dipped into his navel then into the silky line of hair that ran down lower.
He released one hand from the handlebars and placed it on top of hers, pushing it downward over the leather to rest on the bulge at his groin. It pulsed beneath her palm. Oh God, he had a hard-on. Was that dangerous? But she couldn’t prevent her fingers from tracing the shape of him. Then he pushed her hand back up, and at the same time they accelerated. She peered around; they were out of the city now and on a wide open road. Logan picked up speed and they were flying. Resting her head against his back, she gave in to the fabulous sensation of riding through the dawn on a Harley, wrapped around a stunning bad boy. She threw back her head and laughed.
He slowed and peeled off the road onto a smaller side street, finally pulling up around the back of a huge warehouse. The place appeared deserted. As he switched off the engine, her heart started up a slow steady thud. She suspected she was about to discover another of those fantasies.
Was it possible to make love on a motorcycle? She still had her hands wrapped around him, under his shirt, palms flat against his stomach. She didn’t want to let him go, but she also wanted a kiss—craved a kiss. Reluctantly, she slid her hands from him, reached up, and tugged off the helmet. Logan did the same and swung his leg over and stood up. Taking the helmet from her, he placed both of them on the ground next to the bike, then he climbed back on, facing her this time. His hand slid under her hair at the back of her neck, tipping her face up to his. He was so beautiful he made her heart ache. She held herself very still, and time seemed to slow. His lips touched hers, gentle at first, then firmer, his hands tightening in her hair, his tongue pushing inside her mouth, and she lost herself in the taste and feel of him. She hardly noticed as he slid the jacket from her shoulders. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples, his mouth still on hers. Sensation shot from her breasts down her belly to settle at her core. His hands slid down to her thighs, and he lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist. For a moment she wobbled and her hands gripped his shoulders. He raised his head.
“Okay?”
She nodded. “Is this one of your fantasies?”
“Not yet. This is just a little foreplay.” His hands moved to her ass, fingers digging into her buttocks, and dragged her snug up against the huge bulge in his jeans. She tightened her legs around him, rubbing herself against his truly impressive erection as she melted on the inside. With a groan, he kissed her again, molding their bodies close together so her breasts pressed against his chest.
Finally, they ran out of oxygen, and he raised his head. A dull flush darkened his cheekbones, and his hair hung loose around his face—she must have pulled it free at some point—and his eyes glowed almost silver.
“Let’s move.” He pulled away from her, stood, then picked her up and carried her across the space to the warehouse, putting her down in the shadows of a deep doorway.
“This seems an odd place for a fantasy. Are you going to tell me the details?”
He waved a hand around the area. “This was the closest I could get. So the fantasy is…I’m in the exercise yard at the prison and there’s this gang of bad guys who are about to have their evil way with you.”
“What am I doing in the exercise yard?”
A look of mock irritation flashed across his face. “Maybe they smuggled you in. Or you got lost and wandered in.”