Page 16 of The Billionaire's Ride

“Look, Drew. I appreciate you wanting to help me repair my phone and all, but there’s no way I’m getting on the back of that bike.”

“Don’t be shy, Kate. You haven’t yet been formally introduced. This is Black Jack.” Drew gestures to the metal machine as if it can greet me with ahow do you dohandshake.

I give him a funny look. “You named your motorcycle?”

“Of course. I name all my motorbikes.”

“Well, thanks for the introduction, but I can’t ride this. I don’t have a helmet.” Or the guts.

“That won’t be a problem.” Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he pulls out a small bowl-shaped helmet. “Safety first.”

I suck in a deep breath and hold it. Before I can say another word, he places the helmet on my head. I don’t flinch or try to run away even though I’m willing my legs to move. If I were to name them, I’d call them Betrayer One and Betrayer Two. “I don’t think I’m a motorcycle kind of girl, you know?”

“How do you know? You’ve never been on one before. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” He begins fastening the strap around my chin.

I hate to admit it, but he makes a valid point.

When I was a kid, Lisa was always eating salad with the grossest-smelling low-fat Caesar dressing, so I thought it must be disgusting. Then I was at a dinner party at my college roommate’s family home, and they served Caesar salad. It would’ve been rude not to at least try it. So I did, and it was the most delicious salad I’d ever had. I practically licked my salad plate that night. I missed out on years of Caesar salad, and to this day, it’s my favorite. I never would’ve known if I hadn’t been forced to try it.

Then again, riding a motorcycle with someone you barely know is not the same as sampling a salad.

“But I’m wearing a dress,” I invoke the only good excuse I have left.

“I noticed.” He tilts his gaze down, lingering below my waist. “You can tuck it in beneath your legs. It’ll be fine.” Drew walks closer to the bike.

My feet are firmly planted on the sidewalk. “But what if I fall off and die a horrible death?”

The look in Drew’s eye changes like he’s finally acknowledging that I’m legitimately afraid of riding a motorcycle. He walks back to me and softly places his thumb along my jaw. “Kate, I’m not going to let anything happen to you, all right? I promise.”

He’s so close I could kiss him. And I want to. And maybe the only way I get to is to get on his ride. I swallow a dry lump in my throat and stare into his eyes as they glow amber in the sunlight. In this moment, I believe him, he won’t let anything happen to me. “Okay. I’ll try it.”

He grins. “So, you are a secret adrenaline junkie?”

“We’ll see.”

“Good. Now, if it’s too intense, tap on my chest three times, and I’ll stop.” He fastens the helmet to my head, and my cheeks flush. I probably look ridiculous. He helps me hop onto the back of Black Jack. “Just trust me and hang on tight. When I lean, you lean.”

My heart pounds hard in my chest, partly because I’m actually doing something I never thought I’d do and partly because I’ll be holding on tohimthe whole way there. I tuck my dress beneath my legs and check my helmet for what feels like the tenth time.

“Grab on,” he says. “Don’t let go.”

I grip his torso tighter as the throttle roars. He glances back, then pulls out onto the street.

Whoa!

My pulse races with the speed of the motorcycle. With my chest pressed up against his back, I bet he can feel my heart pounding. The wind blows my hair off my shoulders and ripples over the edges of my skirt. I pry one hand from around him just long enough to re-tuck my skirt in place. As soon as I’m done, I clutch his leather jacket in my hands and brace myself against the chilled wind washing over me.

His hot body between my legs is the only thing keeping me from freezing myknickersoff. Still, the breeze is invigorating. He turns the corner, and I lean slightly with him. I shut my eyes tight, feeling like we could tip over at any moment. But once we’re upright again, I open them. A wide grin spreads acrossmy face, and I let out a deep exhale. I figured a motorcycle ride would be thrilling in anif-I-don’t-die,-this-will-be-a-great-storykind of way, but I’m actually having fun.

Garret will be so proud. Finally, my body loosens up, feeling as fluid as the wind. The motorcycle rumbles beneath me, and I squeeze my thighs against Drew, tilting my hips. The vibration hits just the right spot. Ooh, that feels kind of good. So I move my hips a little more, and a moan escapes my lips. The sound is lost in the growl of Drew’s accelerating bike.

With my arms around his waist, I toy with his soft leather jacket and press my breasts against his back, inhaling a mix of him and chilly London air. Drew picks up speed as we turn the corner again, leaning as one. The bike rumbles beneath me, and I clench tighter around him, feeling a rush between my legs. Then, a sudden, tingling wave of ecstasy shoots up my hips and down my legs. “Oh,” I moan again and grip his jacket in my hands. My lashes flutter as my body releases all that beautiful pent-up energy.

Did I just?

Yep.

Best. Ride. Ever.

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