“Come on, Calla. You’ve got to live a little bit.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” I tell him as I turn back around. “I won’t live long on the back of that thing.”
He grins his freaking dare me grin, though, and I know that I’m a goner. It sets a fire in my belly because it’s real. It’s like I can see a tiny bit of his old self shining through, and I can’t resist that. He sees it on my face and grins even wider.
“You need a helmet. There’s an extra in that cabinet.”
He points to the wall, and I retrieve the helmet, and I put it on with shaking fingers.
We’re roaring down the road a few minutes later, and I have my arms wrapped around Dare’s strong body.
Within seconds, I’ve decided that this is Heaven.
I’d forgotten how good this feels.
I rest my cheek against his shoulder, and we blow through the gates of Whitley.
The wind hits my cheeks, the seat vibrates beneath me, and Dare’s back flexes as he balances the bike. I’ve never felt so exhilarated in all my life.
The countryside around us is beautiful, dotted with flowers amid all the green, and I watch it blur as we ride faster and faster. I don’t even feel afraid, and I know I can attribute that sense of well-being to Dare. He’s an expert at riding this thing, and I’m safe behind him, even on the wet and winding roads.
We don’t go far though, before he slows the bike, and we pull onto a gravel road leading to a pond. It’s remote, it’s quiet, and I have no idea what we’re doing.
So I ask.
Dare offers his hand and helps me off the bike.
“You’re going to live.”
I arch an eyebrow hesitantly.
“I’m living right now,” I tell him.
He shakes his head. “Not really. Come on.”
For a reason I can’t explain, I willingly follow him, regardless of my hesitancy, and the way my cautious side is throwing up red flags left and right.
Dare stops on the edge of the pond, and unbuttons his pants.
I freeze in place as his trousers pool around his feet and he steps out of them. His muscles form V-shaped ribbons that disappear into his underwear. I know where they lead. I look away, my cheeks flushed.
He immediately strips off his shirt, tosses it onto the bank, then stands in front of me in black boxer-briefs.
My heart ricochets against my ribcage and I can’t help but stare.
His abs form individual striations, ripped and strong. His biceps bulge and then blend into the leanness of his arm, and I have the sudden urge to trace all of it with my fingers, like I have a hundred times before, so I ball my hands into fists.
“What are you doing?” I struggle with words, but finally manage.
“Swimming.”
He turns and heads into the water without flinching from its cold temperature. I suck in a breath because he’s got that freaking tattoo on his back, spanning across his shoulder-blades. Black words that read: LIVE FREE.
I’m a goner. A freaking goner.
“There’s a pool at Whitley,” I call out to him. “And I think it’s heated.”
Dare laughs and dives under the water, coming right back up, shaking droplets out of his hair.
“It’s not as fun.”
“Why is this fun?” I have to ask. Because the water is cold, there’s bugs, there’s mud.
Dare stares at me drolly. “Because we’re trespassing. This isn’t our property.”
This surprises me and gives me pause.
“The owners don’t know you’re here?”
“Nope,” Dare answers, unconcerned, back-pedaling away from me, without taking his eyes off my face. “Does that scare you, my little rule-follower?”
His little rule-follower.
“Again, I ask you,” my voice wavers a bit. “Why are you suddenly being so nice?”
He shrugs, his shoulder bare and glinting in the light. “Because you’re mine, Calla. You just need to remember it. Now come swimming.”
“I don’t have a suit.”
“You don’t need one.”
I counter and he parries.