posture rigid and eyes narrow. I squint up at him, hugely curious. Though this guy seems to be everywhere -especially when I need him - I know nothing but his name. I know I should stay away from this man, I shouldn’t dig and try to get to know him. He screams ‘non commitment.’ Not that that’s what I’m looking for right now, but someday I hope to have someone. Being alone isn’t for me.
“Why are you staring at me?” he asks, breaking me out of my trance.
I clear my throat. “I didn’t realize I was. Just lost in my thoughts.” A few seconds later I ask, “Is your name really Dare?”
He chuckles humorlessly and turns to me. “That’s been bothering you, hasn’t it?” He leans down, getting close to me, and my heart stutters. “If it weren’t my real name, I wouldn’t tell you. Know why?”
Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I shake my head, eyes wide. “No. Why?” I ask hoarsely.
His eyes slowly move down, pin-pointing directly on my lips as I lick them. “Because that would mean you’re close to me, and I don’t let people in. I won’t let you in, Jennifer. So I won’t answer yes or no. I’ll let you think on it, let it push into your thoughts late at night and drive you crazy because you’re thinking about me.”
My body is against the elevator wall, the metal pole digging into my back. It’s hot in here now, and my breath hitches as his chest moves inches away from my own. “You want me to think about you at night?”
His eyes darken, and his lips part before pulling into a smirk. “I bet you already think about me at night.” He leans in farther, his hot breath warming my skin as he whispers into my ear. “And you won’t stop. Because you want me.”
The elevator doors slowly part, and he steps back, looking as if nothing just happened. I, on the other hand, have to calm my racing heart and smooth my hair. He has me so disoriented that I nearly trip as I take my first step out of the elevator. The amount of control this man has over me is frightening but also stimulating. I like it, and that’s what’s freaking me out. I can’t have him - he just said he doesn’t let people in - and I’m not ready for something like that. So hot and demanding. All consuming.
By the time we reach his bike, I’ve become calmer and realize this is all there will ever be. I won’t see him around, and if I do, I’ll ignore him. Perfect plan. His bike is big, though I don’t know what type of bike it is, I know the enigma of Harley Davidson is something to be proud of. He hands me the helmet, and I put it on, fumbling with the buckle. He knocks my hands out of the way and clips it together, his warm fingers leaving behind a trail of heat.
He swings his leg over the bike, sitting down gracefully, a familiarity that he has. In his jeans, leather boots and white shirt, he’s a living piece of art.
Following his lead, I have to stand on the tips of my toes to slide on. I grab onto the sides of the seat, my thighs clinging to the leather. “I’m ready,” I tell him anxiously. He shakes his head and reaches back. Before I can stop him, his hand grabs my waist and pulls me down. My chest rests against his hard back, my legs open and laying alongside his. Sweet torment.
“Hold on tight!” he warns just before he moves away from the curb. I squeal and automatically wrap my arms around his waist in a death grip.
It isn’t until I'm halfway home that I start to relax. One by one, my muscles calm and my grip around him eases. Looking around, I watch as the world speeds by, a blur of lights and people. The wind whips around me, and I’m glad he made me wear pants and a jacket. Gingerly, I hold my hand out, smiling at the feel of freedom this ride gives me. Who knew I would like something like this? Something so dangerous and fast.
Maybe I’m not weak like I always thought. Maybe I’m just finding my own way in this world now, attempting new things and for once doing what I want to