Page 119 of Sweet Hate
I grab her hand and tug her toward the door before I cram my foot in my mouth again.
“Let’s go, Hurricane. It’s time for you to feel the wind in your hair for a change.”
She stops short, nervously biting that lip again.
“I don’t know, Axel. I’m not dressed for a bike ride, and I don’t even have a helmet.”
“You’ll be fine, babe. Do you trust me?”
I stare into her eyes, waiting for her answer, nerves prickling my gut. Now I’ve thrown it out there, I realize that her answer is important to me. I want her to trust me. Ineedher to.
“Well, yes, but?—”
“No buts, Haven. Yes or no. Do you trust me?”
Her aqua eyes search mine for a second before she breathes in and answers quietly.
“Yes, with my life.”
Elation crashes through me at her response, and I release the breath I wasn’t even aware I’d been holding. I pick her up andwhoopas I spin her around on the spot, her pink hair flying into my face as we laugh.
“You are ridiculous,” she says, poking me in the chest.
“I’ve told you before, Sprinks. You make me ridiculous.” Leaning down so I’m face to face with my girl, I quirk my lips. “I dare you to go on a ride with me.”
Cheap shot I know, but in Haven’s words,if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
“Oh my God, fine! If it’s that important to you. We need to have a word about how you’re using these dares, you know.”
I laugh and pick her up off the floor, taking the stairs two at a time, impatient to get my girl on the road with me.
We’re both laughing hard by the time we get to my bike, the shiny chrome and black Harley gleaming in the late sunshine.
I sit her facing me on the seat and Goddamn, that stops me right in my tracks.
My heart stops, my breathing stops.
The world just fucking stops as my vision narrows down to my girl sitting on my bike for the very first time.
“Oh my God Axel, this thing is huge. How does it even stay up?” She’s examining every inch of my Harley in amazement, trailing her hands over the body. She looks so tiny sitting on top, her feet can’t even touch the floor. Her hands circle the long steel handlebars, running up and down their length, giving me ideas—other, wildly different ideas that’ll have me dragging her back inside if she doesn’t quit it soon.
“It’s a Harley Davidson 2008 Road King Classic. I customized it myself to add a few things, including the twenty-one-inch ape handlebars you’re currently jacking off. You keep that up and the bike won’t be the only thing that’s huge, Sprinks.”
She glares at me in mock outrage before tipping her head back and laughing out loud. The sight of her sitting on my beast, her glorious tits shaking in that sexy shirt as she laughs, is enough to make me fall to my knees in thanks.
“Stay there, let me grab a photo.” She nods back at me, her face radiating happiness. That’s my girl. She’s always sparkled brighter than the sun—I saw it, even when she didn’t.
I frame the scene in front of me on my cell, taking a few extra seconds to just stare at her through the screen. The contrast of black and silver against her creamy skin and pink hair and the sky full of pinks and blues is just breathtaking. For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, I understand what people mean when they describe the feeling of home.
This, right here? This is home.
How would she react if I fell to my knees right now and begged her to stay with me forever?
The plan, stick to the plan.
I shake my head and take a few photos. One of them will undoubtedly be my new phone wallpaper later.
Nervous energy courses through me. I really hope shedoesn’t hate this. Riding is one of the things I love most in the world. I would love it if she felt that way about it too.
