Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I sit on the bike, whistling a tune. The whole time, I’m telling myself that this isn’t flirting. It’s just me being friendly with Ryan’s sister by playing a prank on her. It’s not something we’ll tell our kids about. It’s not.
She talks with the cashier, then turns and looks at me. I grin over at her.
“Not funny,” she says once she’s back. “You just made me look like one heck of a doofus.”
“I hate to be childish, but you started it.”
“Are you going to be this annoying the entire trip?” she huffs, so beautifully flustered.
It makes me want to take her somewhere cooler. Maybe find a pool, or a lake, a private place just for us. Strip her naked and watch the water glisten through her wavy brown hair, over her shy, sassy smile, down her curvy body, clinging to her full nipples.
“Think of all the poems you could write about it,” I say, my voice husky as I struggle to suppress these thoughts—thoughts that never end, not even for a second.
“Here’s a poem. Kai is a jerk, but his antics won’t work. And, uh, my interest, you haven’t perked. Shut up.”
I laugh at her playful tone. She can’t help it. We can’t help it. If this is flirting, I don’t think it’s one-sided.
“I’m not saying anything.”
“Let’s just go before I die of embarrassment.”
“Sounds good to me.”
I’d never let her die, though, of embarrassment or anything else. I’d never let anything happen to her.
“Where’s our first stop?” she asks, climbing onto the bike.
Her hands wrap around my middle, jolting me back to reality and my duty.
There’s too much hunger in me. My dick is getting hard at the slightest touch. If there wasn’t leather between us, would I be able to stop?
“We can overnight in Vegas,” I tell her. “I’m sure there’s lots of inspiration there.”
“Isn’t your package important? Shouldn’t we get it delivered as soon as possible?”
Now, I’m sure she overheard. She must’ve listened as Ryan told me not to rush back.
“We’ve got some wiggle room,” I say gruffly.
“Okay. Vegas it is.”
“From now on,” I tell her, “I pay.”
“You’re not my babysitter. I’ve got my own money.”
We’re just sitting near the pump as if we don’t want to stop talking or raise our voices over the rushing wind.
“Working at Joe’s Diner,” I say. “I know. That’s good, honest work.”
“And the poetry competition paid one thousand dollars. I don’t need you to pay my way.”
“What if I want to?” I snap.
“Why?”
“It’s called being polite.”
“Because you’re so polite, Kai.”
Am I dreaming, or did she playfully press down on my stomach when she said so?
“Hey, I try to be. Anyway, you need your money. You’re young. I’m an old man. Nothing to spend my cash on.”
“That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re not old. You’re in your early thirties. That’s your prime.”
“It’s old compared to a kid like you.”
“Is that how you see me, huh? A kid? Just because you outsmarted me once.”
I could tell her yes. She’s a kid in my eyes, but it would be a downright lie. She’s all woman, and even if I should, I can’t let her think I don’t see it.
“No, Kay, I don’t.”
“Kay?”
“Yeah?”
“No, Kay?”
“Why are you pronouncing my name like that?” I ask.
She laughs, hugging me tighter. I’m not sure she even means to. This bike is letting us get way closer than we otherwise would. I know the risks, but I have to keep going.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m saying, Kay, not Kai. That’s the first time you’ve called me Kay.”
“Is it? It sounds right.”
“I… I think I like it, too.”
“Good.”
I bring the Harley to life. Enough talking. Enough flirting. From now on, I have to be good. We put on our helmets, and we ride.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kayla
Our arrival in Vegas isn’t the spectacular light show that it’s been the other times I’ve visited. Mainly because it’s only four thirty p.m., the sun is still blazing, and the Strip’s not shining into the desert as it does at night.
My body is sore from the riding, so I’m relieved when Kai stops at a diner just outside the city. He pulls into the parking lot, and we both step off the bike. Despite the soreness, part of me wants to stay on the bike with him. It’s the perfect excuse to press myself against his body, to feel his heat, to feel something deep within us both communicating, starving for each other.
No, I can’t think about that. We had some fun at the gas station and a few laughs. That doesn’t erase what I heard. He doesn’t want me to be here. He’s just making the best of it.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“I could eat.”
He looks down at me, his black hair messily swept to the side when he removes his helmet. His jaw is tight like he’s holding back all that fire, the raging infernos I used to write poems about.