Page 25 of Russian Roulette

He retrieves a black leather jacket out of the storage compartment at the back and hands it to me. “Put this on,” he says. He’s wearing a matching jacket, jeans and black leather boots. The biker outfit makes him even sexier to me, if that’s possible. The memories of last night keep flooding my brain, making it difficult to think straight.

“Thanks,” I say, donning the heavy jacket on and zipping up the front. “What about helmets? Do you have an extra one I can wear?”

“Fuck helmets,” he snaps. “I don’t wear the damn things when I’m riding at night. Only during the day when the police will give me a ticket if they catch me without one. Motherfuckers!”

“No surprise there,” I remark drily. “Guess that means you don’t have an extra one.”

“You can wear mine,” he offers. “If you want one.”

“I don’t,” I respond, sensing he’s challenging me.

A hint of a smile plays around his mouth at my answer. He effortlessly climbs onto the motorcycle, motioning for me to do the same.

“Are you an experienced driver?” I ask, hesitating to climb on.

He grins, amused by my question. “Yes, you could say that I am. Are you scared?”

“Not at all,” I reply, sliding on behind him. “How fast does this motorcycle go?”

“Want to find out?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder.

“You bet I do.”

“Then hold on tight,” he warns, starting the engine.

I wrap my arms around his waist, feeling his body’s warmth through his jacket. What is up with this guy? His skin is always burning like he’s on fire. I scoot up as close as I can to his back and grip him tightly.

The motorcycle roars to life, and we take off along the dirt road. Vulcan starts off slowly, with the only light coming from the headlight of the motorcycle as we weave around the potholes in the bumpy road. Once we reach the main road back to Vegas, he picks up the speed. Wind rushes past us, and a surge of adrenaline hits me as we speed through the desert.

“How are you holding up back there?” he shouts.

“Great!” I lean closer to say into his ear. His deep laughter reverberates through his chest.

“Hang on!” he warns. “I’m going to open it up and show you what this baby can do.”

Gripping tighter, I press my face to his shoulder while keeping an eye on the speedometer. Our speed rapidly increases…75 mph…80…85…90. My heartbeat races right along with the speedometer.

As we go faster, the motorcycle seems to merge with Vulcan, becoming one entity. I sense the movements of his muscles as he shifts and leans to navigate the road, likely a path he’s traveled countless times. If we encounter loose gravel or veer off onto the shoulder, we’ll crash, and there’s no chance either of us would survive at this speed, particularly without helmets.

Yet instead of fear, I’m excited and flooded with adrenaline. “Is this the best you can do?” I yell.

He grins at my challenge. “A long straightaway is coming up,” he shouts back.

Vulcan takes a curve quickly, and I instinctively lean with him. Up ahead, there’s nothing but an empty, long stretch of road. The sun begins to rise, painting the desert sky with shades of orange and pink.

He rolls back the throttle and leans in. My breath catches in my throat as the red needle of the speedometer tips well over one hundred miles per hour. Suddenly, we’re going faster than I’ve ever experienced. Vulcan throws back his head and laughs, the sound ringing out over the roar of the motorcycle.

I catch sight of my reflection in the side-view mirror, my face a picture of intense, exhilarated joy. Vulcan glances into the mirror and notices it too.

Though I’m his captive, today I feel freer and more alive than I’ve ever known.

13

JADE

Once we reach the outskirts of Vegas, Vulcan veers the motorcycle onto a narrow, one-lane road. After traveling a mile, the road abruptly ends at a massive Southwestern-style gate with towering wooden beams and intricate ironwork. High fencing extends far into the distance on either side.

Vulcan pulls a remote from his leather jacket pocket and presses the button, causing the heavy iron gates to creak open. Before us lies a long, secluded drive. Vulcan guides the motorcycle up the driveway and pulls up to a contemporary house with a sleek, minimalist design. The house is nestled in a desert oasis of drought-resistant plants, cacti, succulent and shrubs.