Read Online Denver: A Bad Boy Romance (FMX Bros Book 3) by Tess Oliver - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tess Oliver
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into the air like a wild man.”
“Does Cole ride too?” Denver’s bike grew louder as he circled back toward us.
“He’s still in the learning phase,” Kensington said. “But he’s good and insanely fearless. Here comes Denver.”
I hadn’t heard Cole walk up behind us. “I’ll be putting those steaks on in ten minutes.” He walked past the chairs and stood crossed armed in front of us as he watched Denver ride toward the ramp.
The metal clanged and the front tire rolled up the ramp. Denver was a big man and sitting on the motorcycle in his gear, he looked downright massive. A gasp caught in my throat. I stared open-mouthed as man and machine flew up off the ramp. But he didn’t just stay seated and head back down to earth. Denver’s legs came up off the foot pegs, and his long legs shot straight up in the air.
In a rush of panic, I grabbed Kensington’s arm and watched in complete shock as Denver’s hands left the handlebars and moved temporarily back to the seat. Then, just as quickly, his hands returned to the bars. He curled his legs down toward the bike. He was back on solid seating just seconds before the bike touched back down to the dirt.
Rodeo whistled from his wall perch.
Cole laughed. “Like a damn ballerina.” He shook his head as he turned around. “Sometimes I wonder if that guy has trained his body to ignore all the laws of physics. It would be just like him.”
My heart rate was just returning to normal. I gulped some beer to soothe the dryness in my throat. I could sense that Kensington was staring at the side of my face waiting for my reaction.
I took another sip. “I did not expect that. First of all, nothing, and I mean nothing about that seems safe or sane. At the same time, it looks like the best damn fun anyone could ever have on a motorcycle.”
Denver looked at me through his goggles as he rolled past. The helmet covered most of his face. Something about the all the gear made him seem warrior-like. I liked it. And I liked the man under the helmet. There were so many facets to him, it was hard to decide which one I liked best. Although, last night’s end to a perfect date was probably at the top of the list. A deep, sexy, daring man who knew just what to say and how to make me laugh—five weeks suddenly seemed horribly short.
I held my breath again as Denver performed another trick. His bike flew up and the front tire kept going until he’d flipped completely around. None of it made sense with the universe. The heavy bike, the tall man, the unwieldy gear. It all seemed impossible, and yet, Denver pulled off each trick as easily as someone might jump into the deep end of a pool.
On his fourth pass, the bike hit the ramp, and he shot up into the air. He whipped the motorcycle sideways and then smoothly brought it perpendicular with the ground. It was all beautifully choreographed as if it should be set to music. He landed with a jarring thud and an alarming few seconds of wobbling. But he straightened up quickly and rode smoothly back around.
Rodeo hopped off the wall and walked across to meet Denver as he took off his helmet and shut down the bike. He propped the motorcycle up on a stand and sat his helmet on the seat. He scrubbed his hair back with his fingers, and it stood up in black spikes all over his head.
I hadn’t noticed that I was fanning myself until Kensington laughed and elbowed me. “Don’t worry. Watching them ride the motorcycles gets all of us a little flushed.”
I lowered my hand and realized she’d been right about the flush. My cheeks felt warm. “Why do you think that is? The danger? The man versus nature thing?”
Kensington sat back with a satisfied grin. “I think it’s just that they look so damn hot in their gear. Especially when you add in that layer of sweat.”
I stared over at Denver. He was definitely a sight in his blue motocross jersey, riding pants and boots. “You’re right. The sweat adds just that little touch of
“Does Cole ride too?” Denver’s bike grew louder as he circled back toward us.
“He’s still in the learning phase,” Kensington said. “But he’s good and insanely fearless. Here comes Denver.”
I hadn’t heard Cole walk up behind us. “I’ll be putting those steaks on in ten minutes.” He walked past the chairs and stood crossed armed in front of us as he watched Denver ride toward the ramp.
The metal clanged and the front tire rolled up the ramp. Denver was a big man and sitting on the motorcycle in his gear, he looked downright massive. A gasp caught in my throat. I stared open-mouthed as man and machine flew up off the ramp. But he didn’t just stay seated and head back down to earth. Denver’s legs came up off the foot pegs, and his long legs shot straight up in the air.
In a rush of panic, I grabbed Kensington’s arm and watched in complete shock as Denver’s hands left the handlebars and moved temporarily back to the seat. Then, just as quickly, his hands returned to the bars. He curled his legs down toward the bike. He was back on solid seating just seconds before the bike touched back down to the dirt.
Rodeo whistled from his wall perch.
Cole laughed. “Like a damn ballerina.” He shook his head as he turned around. “Sometimes I wonder if that guy has trained his body to ignore all the laws of physics. It would be just like him.”
My heart rate was just returning to normal. I gulped some beer to soothe the dryness in my throat. I could sense that Kensington was staring at the side of my face waiting for my reaction.
I took another sip. “I did not expect that. First of all, nothing, and I mean nothing about that seems safe or sane. At the same time, it looks like the best damn fun anyone could ever have on a motorcycle.”
Denver looked at me through his goggles as he rolled past. The helmet covered most of his face. Something about the all the gear made him seem warrior-like. I liked it. And I liked the man under the helmet. There were so many facets to him, it was hard to decide which one I liked best. Although, last night’s end to a perfect date was probably at the top of the list. A deep, sexy, daring man who knew just what to say and how to make me laugh—five weeks suddenly seemed horribly short.
I held my breath again as Denver performed another trick. His bike flew up and the front tire kept going until he’d flipped completely around. None of it made sense with the universe. The heavy bike, the tall man, the unwieldy gear. It all seemed impossible, and yet, Denver pulled off each trick as easily as someone might jump into the deep end of a pool.
On his fourth pass, the bike hit the ramp, and he shot up into the air. He whipped the motorcycle sideways and then smoothly brought it perpendicular with the ground. It was all beautifully choreographed as if it should be set to music. He landed with a jarring thud and an alarming few seconds of wobbling. But he straightened up quickly and rode smoothly back around.
Rodeo hopped off the wall and walked across to meet Denver as he took off his helmet and shut down the bike. He propped the motorcycle up on a stand and sat his helmet on the seat. He scrubbed his hair back with his fingers, and it stood up in black spikes all over his head.
I hadn’t noticed that I was fanning myself until Kensington laughed and elbowed me. “Don’t worry. Watching them ride the motorcycles gets all of us a little flushed.”
I lowered my hand and realized she’d been right about the flush. My cheeks felt warm. “Why do you think that is? The danger? The man versus nature thing?”
Kensington sat back with a satisfied grin. “I think it’s just that they look so damn hot in their gear. Especially when you add in that layer of sweat.”
I stared over at Denver. He was definitely a sight in his blue motocross jersey, riding pants and boots. “You’re right. The sweat adds just that little touch of
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