Free Platinum (Facets of Passion) by Jeffe Kennedy

to be around. She locked the doors and nearly skipped down the steps to him, feeling girlishly pleased by the admiration in his expression.
    “You look hot in jeans, baby.” He shook his head. “Maybe we should go back downstairs.”
    She actually giggled. “No way. I can’t take another round.”
    “Yet.” He pinned her with a ravenous stare. “Because I have plans for you.”
    “Yes.” She whispered it, her nipples peaking.
    He grinned. “Good. Let’s go for a different kind of ride then, princess.”
    All gentleman now, he showed her the bike and where she’d sit, where her feet should go, how to buckle the helmet and tuck her hair inside. He clapped his on his head, climbed on the bike and started it with a roar. A little intimidated, she climbed into the space behind him, her tender crotch groaning at the stretch. She settled against him and wrapped her arms barely around his waist.
    Then tightened them convulsively, a squeal escaping her when the bike surged forward. “Not so fast!” She yelled in his ear.
    He glanced over his shoulder, grinned and shook his head. “We’re barely moving. Hang on.”
    Her heart pounded like a frightened bird as they raced up the street. But Steel kept to the back streets and she realized gradually that they weren’t going so fast—it only felt like it. Being out in the wind with the street so close made it feel faster. They stopped at a light and he put his feet down while they waited.
    “You doing okay?” he called back.
    “I think so.”
    “You want to loosen your grip then, so I can breathe again?”
    Feeling silly, she let go, but he retrieved her hands and put them back around his waist with a little pat. “Don’t go away, darlin’. Just a little less throttling.”
    “Sorry!” It came out as a squeak when the bike surged ahead and the wind blew back his laugh. The sound of it made her smile and she made herself relax more. It helped that they were heading out of town now on one of the rural back roads. Crape myrtles with their panicles of pink and white ruffled blossoms intermingled with the live oaks, draping languid limbs over the laneways, making verdant tunnels.
    When Steel had repositioned her grip, he’d put her hands under his leather jacket and now she could feel the hard muscles of his abs rippling as he balanced the bike. His tanned hands flexed on the handles, expertly handling the speed and curves. She watched them dreamily, remembering how well those fingers had revved her. Her and the motorcycle, well-tuned instruments for him to play.
    They pulled into a shaded lane that led back to a lopsided bungalow. A car up on blocks sat near the edge of the yard, surrounded by heaps of stray metal pieces and parts. Kudzu grew up through a stack of old tires. The porch boards sagged and seemed in dire need of both repair and paint.
    Steel pulled around the side and cut the engine. The buzz of cicadas and spring peepers swelled in her ears, nearly as loud as the motorcycle had been, in their own way.
    “Is this your place?” She hesitated, not really wanting to go inside. Not really wanting to be here at all.
    He glanced at her, shaking out his hair and looping the helmet strap on a pin on the bike. “No. Belongs to a buddy—he asked me to keep an eye on it while he’s out of town.”
    “So, we’re here to feed his cat or something?”
    “Better. Give me your helmet.”
    “Tell me why we’re here first.”
    “Because if you don’t like it you’ll—what?—ride the bike back yourself?”
    “Fine.” She took off the helmet. “I can just call a cab.”
    He studied her. “What has you all het up now?”
    “I don’t like surprises.”
    “You like being out of control in the basement with me, but not out in public.”
    She wrapped her arms around herself, even though the jacket was a little warm now. “I don’t want to discuss that here.”
    “Fair enough. Come see what we’re here for and, if you don’t like it, we can leave.