Page 63 of Huge Dynamite
“But why areyouawake?” Pushing the door open with her shoulder, she motions for me to follow her in.
“Couldn’t sleep. A lot on my mind.”
Nodding, she takes a deep breath and lets it go in a sigh. Reaching up, she puts her hands on her neck and starts massaging her neck muscles. Her movements are so damned erotic, I have to take a deep breath myself.
“Let me do that for you.” Motioning to her neck, I walk up behind her and clamp my hands on her thin shoulders.
“Mmm.” Allowing her body to be moved by my massage, she leans back against me.
“You’re so tight,” I whisper into her ear.
“Yes,” she moans.
Reaching up, she places her hands on mine and runs her fingertips down them. It’s so freaking sexy, I know she caught the double entendre as soon as I said it.
“I’ve had a hell of a night,” she explains.
Staying where I am, I keep rubbing as I speak softly into her ear. “What happened?”
“What else? That emergency my mother had and dinner at the club turned out to be an intervention. Obviously, I have to be insane to buy this place and want to live here.”
“You’re not insane. You’re idealistic.”
“Naïve?” Turning, she releases herself from my grasp and looks up into my eyes.
“No.” Dropping my hands to my sides, I shake my head. “Not at all. You’re just a good person. With bigger dreams than most of us understand.”
“Thank you.” I can tell by the way she holds my gaze she means it. “But why do I get stuck holding onto all this crap that everyone dumps on me? Tonight at the restaurant, I had another anxiety attack. All I want to do is strip out of these damned clothes and go running naked through the woods somewhere, feeling the wind brush against me.”
Nodding, I smile. “Grab your jacket.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I know exactly what you need. Do you trust me?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Then, grab a jacket and let’s go.”
Taking her by the hand, I lead her out her front door, locking up behind us. Pulling her gently, I take her to my bike. She stalls as we approach.
“Seth, I don’t know. Do you know how many motorcycle accidents I see in the ER every week? I’ve seen injuries, broken bones, amputations, deaths.”
As she speaks, I take my helmet and place it on her head, fastening it under her chin.
“Where’s your helmet?” She furrows her brow.
Reaching up, I knock on the side of my head. “Hard as a rock. I’m fine.”
Sighing, she starts unfastening her helmet.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
“I pulled a knife out of your shoulder. I am not going to follow that up by picking your brain up off of a road and trying to shove it back in through your ear.”
“Fine. Let’s stop by my place. I have another helmet. An old one, but it’ll work. I’ll grab that—it’s on the way, anyway.”
“On the way where?”
