Page 138 of Melted by a Man

Jacqueline was getting used to riding my bike of her own volition. She requested to ride to and from work on it instead of one of our cars. It fulfilled a couple of fantasies that teenage me had of driving around with a sexy partner clad in leather, feeling me up as we showed off how cool and mysterious we were.

She still wasn’t willing to wear leather pants, though. She hated the texture.

So jeans it was.

As we turned toward my street, I snatched her wandering fingers in mine for the fifth time this ride.

“Jacqueline,” I murmured in a deep warning tone, lacing our digits together.

She didn’t respond through the mic. Instead, she squeezed our fingers, attempting to distract me while brushing her free hand over my upper thigh, teasing where I was already stiff.

“You’re not that scared of crashing anymore, are you?” I chuckled as I grabbed her frisky hand and placed it back on my abdomen, where it would be less distracting.

I needed to keep one hand on the handlebars at all times, and Jacqueline used that to her advantage to tease me the entire twenty-five-minute drive home from the office.

Finally, we pulled into my building’s car park.

But Jacqueline’s boldness increased as she, with lightning speed, lowered both of her hands and gripped the solid outline of my erection hidden beneath my jeans. She even managed to stroke me once or twice before I yelped a laugh and covered both of her hands with mine.

“Jacqueline!” I glanced at her over my shoulder, seeing my own reflection in her dark visor.

Suddenly, we both jerked forward. I faced forward to see that I hadn’t properly parked the bike, distracted by my girlfriend’s wandering hands, and the bike drifted so that the front tire bumped into the cement divider of the car park.

“Wicked woman,” I mumbled, earning a pleased laugh from her. We were parked right next to the entrance, allowing anyone walking or driving by our building to see what she was doing to me.

I backed up a bit before flicking the kickstand and cutting the engine, not thinking too much of it until I heard Jacqueline cackle behind me.

I removed my helmet and smiled at her over my shoulder.

Jacqueline’s laugh was hypnotizing. It pulled me in like a siren’s call. Her laugh was uncontrolled, a religious experience that deserved my full and undivided attention. I wanted to worship the sound of her laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, stepping off the bike first.

“The bike fantasy is ruined,” Jacqueline shook her helmet-clad head as her shoulders shook, laughter erupting out of her in waves.

I dropped my jaw, “What? How?”

She lifted her head to finally unclip the helmet, something she could do on her own now, to show me her beautifully flushed cheeks. Lifting her hands, Jacqueline had to wipe tears from her eyes that were smearing her mascara. She was laughing that hard.

“Watching you slowly back up today,” Jacqueline pressed her lips together in a giggle, struggling to get through her explanation, “Using your little tippy-toes to balance the bike.”

I gaped, before glancing down at myself. She still straddled the bike, so I used that to my advantage as I stepped forward and cupped the back of her head with my gloved hand.

“This doesn’t do it for you anymore?” I asked. Jacqueline’s entire body was shaking with laughter, her hand had to wipe more tears from her eyes as she squeezed them shut.

“No, no,” Jacqueline shook her head, inhaling a deep breath and waving her hands in front of her face. She was losing it. I had seen this happen with her once before when we were watching the telly, and a funny, unexpected one-liner was said by one of her favorite characters. We had to go back and rewatch that scene a dozen times, and each time the line was said, Jacqueline would cackle and bury her head in my chest from the hilarity.

I thought the line was funny, sure, but I mostly replayed the scene just to keep watching Jacqueline’s enjoyment. It felt like a hit of the world’s best drug, hearing her laughter again and again.

According to her therapist, it was common for neurodivergent individuals to fall into giggle fits that were difficult to come out of.

I always loved learning about my stunning girlfriend’s beautiful brain, and how it functioned.

“Hmm, we’re gonna have to fix that, yeah?” I asked, lifting my other gloved hand to cup her neck, leaning in so our noses brushed against each other.

Jacqueline sucked in a breath from the contact, her pupils dilating just as I hoped. Except she was still giggling.

“I—I can still see it,” Jacqueline pressed her lips together just as tightly as her eyelids, “Your little tippies—” with an amused growl, I bent and captured her lips with mine. My kiss was aggressive, and I nipped at her bottom lip in a way that promised retribution for her teasing. I reached down to grab her thigh with my fingers, lifting her leg so she was no longer straddling the bike but still sitting on it. I held her legs wide so I could press against her, fitting my body in between.

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