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Gripping the muscle of my lower leg, he guides one of my feet into the jeans, slowly followed by the other. I think he’s enjoying this as much as I am because I’m pretty sure this could be quicker. But like me, he’s taking his time, savoring the moment. Or at least, I hope he is.
With the jeans on my legs, pulled up to my knees and scrunched around my ankles, I swear I hear him growl as he eyes what he’s done so far, as though he likes what he sees. It does something to me down there that has literally never happened before. It pulses, like it’s got a heartbeat of its own. A little scary, but I don’t hate the feeling.
He closes his eyes briefly before opening them again and reaching for one of my boots, sliding it onto my foot and lacing it up. The next one is quick to follow, then he stands, towering over me once more, but he doesn’t intimidate me in the slightest. It’s wild.
Stepping forward, he grips my waist again and lifts me as though I weigh nothing, placing me carefully back on the ground so I’m standing.
“Thank you, Bear.” I love his nickname. It’s the perfect fit for him because he’s large and powerful, yet soft and cuddly at the same time.
“I like it when you use that name.” His eyes darken and his chest rises and falls a little heavier, but he steps back, bending slightly, and grips the sides of my jeans. He pulls them up the rest of the way, the knuckles from his thumbs skimming along the material of my leggings. Then he takes his time in closing the zipper and popping the button through the hole.
“Are you wearing another top beneath that hoodie?”
I nod slowly, wondering why he wants to know.
“The leather jacket is your size, so it won’t fit over the hoodie.” Again with the explanation without me having to actually ask.
“Makes sense. Can I put the hoodie on over the top?” The scent and warmth of it is all him, and I had to talk myself out of sleeping in it last night.
The wide grin he gives me makes the butterflies in my stomach go crazy. “‘Course you can, Baby Girl.”
I step back so I can lift the hoodie over my head, needing a little more space than we are currently giving each other because I need a moment.
By the time it’s off, Bear is already holding open the leather jacket, which is plain black and looks padded.
“It’s for your protection,” he explains as he encourages me to slide my arms into it one after the other.
Now that I’m facing him again, he grabs the two bottom corners to connect them and pulls up the zipper before closing the snap buttons over the top. Then without a word, he picks up the hoodie from where I laid it across his motorcycle and shoves it over my head, nodding in satisfaction when my arms are through the holes.
Getting dressed has never been so sensual.
“Helmet time.” He grabs one of the two helmets beside his bike and holds it up to guide onto my head, leaving the visor open as he takes his time clipping the strap together and tightening it. “You good?” With his own helmet in hand, he waits for me to answer.
“Yeah.” My turn to nod. It feels strange and heavy with the helmet on so I do it slowly as he slides his own onto his head.
I’m excited to be on the back of this with him again. I had thought it was a one-time thing, but apparently not. The first time was out of necessity and I don’t think I enjoyed it as much as I could have.
He lifts one of his large legs up and over the motorcycle then holds a hand out for me to take, then he continues to hold it so I can climb on behind him, my thighs pressed against his. Instead of encouraging me to hold on to the handles he showed me last time, he tucks my hand into his waist pocket and pats it gently before sliding a pair of gloves on and starting the engine.
The motorcycle vibrates between my legs and I grip him tighter as he kicks up the stand and we’re off. Being on this bike with him feels like instinct, each turn smooth, as though we’ve been doing this together forever. A small thrill rolls through me at every turn, every time the engine roars a little louder, and as we weave through traffic like it’s not even there. An overwhelming feeling of freedom almost brings tears to my eyes but I push them back so I can enjoy every second of this to the fullest.
I’m not sure how long we’ve been riding when we pull up outside a blue-gray house. There’s neat paving from the sidewalk leading to the cutest front porch with a couple of white rocking chairs and darker gray door. The front yard is neatly trimmed and a few flowerless plants have been carefully spaced around the porch. It’s simply stunning.
I slowly lift my head from where it’s resting against Bear’s back and unwrap my arms from around his waist, feeling a sense of loss when the chilly air replaces his warmth against my chest, but I can’t exactly walk around attached to his back. That would be weird.
The engine cuts out and I climb off the bike. My legs are a little like jelly, but I’d do it again a thousand times over. Bear follows, expertly removing his helmet at the same time, closely followed by his gloves. With that beautiful smile in place, he stands in front of me, bringing his hands up to unclip my helmet before pulling it up and off my head.
I don’t flinch around him, not once, and every moment we spend together has me second guessing my decision to leave because it’s getting clearer that he’s not the same ashim.
“This is home.” He holds out a hand and I don’t even need to think about it, I take it freely, our fingers entwining like they were always this way. The butterflies are rampant in my stomach and my acceptance of this whole situation still confuses me.
“It’s beautiful.” There are several matching houses of different colors in variations of blues, grays, and whites to the right of this one, and an expanse of trees to the left that winds around to the back.
The rocking chairs look unused, the white of the wood so bright against the rest of the porch area. I’d love to just sit in one for a while, see what it’s like, but it’s not very warm outside right now.
“Is that you, Brock?”
I look around to see where the voice came from, finding an older woman with purple-pastel short hair in bouncy curls, a large pair of glasses, and using a purple cane to help her walk down the few steps of her own porch next door.