Page 59 of Battered Moves

“They were very informative,” I defend in a hushed tone.

“Ah, I see. So you already know the slang, my little backpack,” he says, playfully pushing me onto his bed and leaning over me. He brushes my hair away from my face, “What kind of helmet did you get?” he asks, giving me a quick kiss.

“I went for one of those cool, old-school ones without a visor,” I reply, beaming with pride.

“Of course, it had to be stylish,” he says with a chuckle, inching closer to me. “Is it green? It might clash with the red of the bike.”

“No, I picked a black one, so you won’t be too embarrassed to ride with me,” I say with a pout. He chuckles again, leaning in even closer.

“I could never be embarrassed of you,” he whispers before kissing me passionately, sucking on my lower lip and nibbling it before deepening the kiss, his hand slipping under my shirt to caress my stomach.

Fuck, he is such a good kisser.He leans back, chuckling at my heart eyes.

“Did you bring your biker gear with you, gorgeous?” he asks.

I nod, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

“Want to take it for a spin?” he suggests, his smile putting me at ease.

“I’d love to!” I reply, beaming at him. He stands up and extends his hand to me, pulling me to my feet.

“Let’s go then,” he says, leading me towards the living room, where the rest of the guys are still watching the movie. Chase tells them, “We’re taking a ride.” Then he heads for the door. I linger for a moment, feeling self-conscious as Ryder gives me a thumbs up, River smirks, and Jaxon nods in approval.

“Don’t drive like a maniac, you’ve got precious cargo with you,” Jaxon calls out to Chase.

“I’m a backpack,” I retort before shrugging and following Chase as I hear Ryder laugh.

* * *

Chase

I stand in the doorway, holding the door open for her. I already put on my own leather jacket and grabbed my helmet. She walks out the door with a small “Thank you,” and I take a minute to admire her ass in the tight black jeans she’s wearing.That woman is pure perfection.

We reach her car and I wait, feeling a little curious about what she’s bought for herself. I can’t help but regret my earlier reaction towards her. It caught me off guard, and I didn’t know how to handle her wishing me a happy birthday. I never leave the house on the day and prefer to ignore it completely, so I haven’t had to deal with people celebrating it in years. When she surprised me, all I could do was flee the scene and leave her standing there, feeling foolish. She put in the time and effort to make me feel special on my birthday, and I’m ashamed that I didn’t even thank her or try one of her cupcakes. I feel like such a jerk, but the truth is this day is tough for me, and I’m happy if I can make it through without breaking down.

She pulls a black leather jacket out of her trunk and struggles a bit to put it on. When she’s finally got the zipper up, it fits her like a glove.Holy mother of tits.Next, she retrieves a helmet from her trunk and walks over to where I’m standing by my bike. I can’t help but feel a little uneasy about her choice of helmet. Half helmets aren’t as safe, and without a visor, the wind could easily hurt her eyes, but I’m willing to give it a try. If it doesn’t fit properly or she finds it uncomfortable, she can always wear my second helmet, or we can purchase a new one together, even a green one if she prefers. I’d be willing to make a lot of compromises just to have her curves cling to me as we ride through the streets.

She places the helmet on her head and turns to me with a smile.

“How do I look?” she asks, twirling around with her arms outstretched. I try to maintain eye contact, but my gaze inevitably flicks down to her ass.

“Like a pro,” I reply, smirking as I clip her helmet’s chin strap in place.

“I was aiming for expert,” she quips, making me laugh.

I climb onto the bike and help her get settled behind me. Unlike last time, she scoots closer and wraps her arms tightly around my waist.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Yes!” she answers, and I can hear the excitement in her voice.

I turn on the engine, and the bike roars to life beneath us. With a deep breath, I slowly release the clutch, and we begin to move forward.

The wind whips past us, and I feel her grip tighten around me as we pick up speed. We navigate the streets smoothly, weaving in and out of traffic, with her laughter ringing in my ears. I can’t help but smile as I feel her body pressed up against mine, her breath warm on my neck. It feels like we’re the only two people in the world, and nothing else matters except the rush of the ride and the connection between us.

As we race down a long, straight road, she releases one hand from my stomach and thrusts it out in front of us, fist clenched.I steal a glance back at her.

“I am fucking Superwoman!” she yells, laughing loudly. I can’t help but chuckle.This girl is crazy, and I love it.

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