Stolen kisses in the back hallway of a bar were one thing; the middle of a busy thoroughfare was another. She had a reputation to uphold. People continued to walk down the sidewalks, oblivious to the public display of affection.
“So what?” he asked. He took a helmet from the back of the bike and handed it to her. By reflex, she grabbed it, the weight of it pulling her hands down to her thighs. It was sleek and black, devoid of ornamentation with a clear plastic face shield. When she didn’t move, he placed it on her head and tightened the strap beneath her chin. His helmet had a mirrored black shield with a silver skull and cross bones airbrushed on the back. He flipped up the face shield and tapped the top of her helmet. “Ready?”
“I am not getting on that thing with you.” She backed away as if the machine might animate and spring on her.
“Sure you are.” He swung his leg over the motorcycle and scooted forward on the black leather seat to make room for her. “What’s the matter? Chicken?” With a press of a button, the motorcycle roared to life, growling and rumbling like an angry lion. Roused by the noise, pigeons roosting on the roof of the bus stop shelter thundered into the sky leaving a flurry of feathers in their wake.
“I am not chicken!” she shouted just as the engine quieted. The man at the corner newsstand looked up from his work and stared. Jack laughed. She laughed, too.
“Amen, sister! Shout it to the rooftops!” He revved the motor again for emphasis. “Now get on. You’re going to love it. I guarantee it.” His dark eyes sparkled with the promise of the very element that had been missing from her life for so long — adventure. “Come on, Popsicle. Pull that stick out of your ass and live a little.”
She didn’t do things like this. She didn’t take risks or act without considering every single possible outcome for her actions. The burden of so much thinking had become unbearable. All that planning and plotting had gotten her nowhere. For once, she just wanted to act like the twenty-five year old that she was without regard for consequences or implications. The newsstand guy smiled in approval as Ally hiked her skirt up to her thighs and climbed on behind Jack. She put her hands on his waist, afraid to touch him.
“You’re going to have to hold on tighter than that,” Jack warned. She tightened her arms. “Tighter.” He revved the engine and let the bike lurch forward a few inches. The sudden movement caught her off balance. She flung her arms around his waist to stay mounted, pressing her breasts flat against his back. He flashed a mischievous smile over his shoulder. “That’s better. Now don’t let go.”
***
They rumbled through the city, zipping between cars and weaving through traffic. Jack handled the heavy fat boy with a care and reverence that made her feel safe despite the rushing pavement beneath them. As they left the concrete and steel of the city behind them, the temperature cooled and Ally’s tension began to ease. Traffic thinned out until they traveled alone on the road. Factories, bus stops, and people disappeared to be replaced by miles of white fence, cows, and rolling meadows. She held tight to Jack’s waist, her fingers hooked in his belt for added security, her inner thighs squeezing around his slim hips and the rock hard muscles of his legs. Eyes closed, she savored the caress of the wind through her hair and the vibration of the finely tuned machine beneath her. The energy and strength of Jack’s body seeped into her with every passing mile. With him next to her it was easy to imagine that she was someone else, living someone else’s life, without a care in the world.
He pulled off the road at a copse of aged oak trees. The road narrowed into an overgrown access trail that curved beneath the gnarled branches. The midsummer heat dissipated in the shade of the lacy canopy. Sunlight dappled the path, interspersing
“So what?” he asked. He took a helmet from the back of the bike and handed it to her. By reflex, she grabbed it, the weight of it pulling her hands down to her thighs. It was sleek and black, devoid of ornamentation with a clear plastic face shield. When she didn’t move, he placed it on her head and tightened the strap beneath her chin. His helmet had a mirrored black shield with a silver skull and cross bones airbrushed on the back. He flipped up the face shield and tapped the top of her helmet. “Ready?”
“I am not getting on that thing with you.” She backed away as if the machine might animate and spring on her.
“Sure you are.” He swung his leg over the motorcycle and scooted forward on the black leather seat to make room for her. “What’s the matter? Chicken?” With a press of a button, the motorcycle roared to life, growling and rumbling like an angry lion. Roused by the noise, pigeons roosting on the roof of the bus stop shelter thundered into the sky leaving a flurry of feathers in their wake.
“I am not chicken!” she shouted just as the engine quieted. The man at the corner newsstand looked up from his work and stared. Jack laughed. She laughed, too.
“Amen, sister! Shout it to the rooftops!” He revved the motor again for emphasis. “Now get on. You’re going to love it. I guarantee it.” His dark eyes sparkled with the promise of the very element that had been missing from her life for so long — adventure. “Come on, Popsicle. Pull that stick out of your ass and live a little.”
She didn’t do things like this. She didn’t take risks or act without considering every single possible outcome for her actions. The burden of so much thinking had become unbearable. All that planning and plotting had gotten her nowhere. For once, she just wanted to act like the twenty-five year old that she was without regard for consequences or implications. The newsstand guy smiled in approval as Ally hiked her skirt up to her thighs and climbed on behind Jack. She put her hands on his waist, afraid to touch him.
“You’re going to have to hold on tighter than that,” Jack warned. She tightened her arms. “Tighter.” He revved the engine and let the bike lurch forward a few inches. The sudden movement caught her off balance. She flung her arms around his waist to stay mounted, pressing her breasts flat against his back. He flashed a mischievous smile over his shoulder. “That’s better. Now don’t let go.”
***
They rumbled through the city, zipping between cars and weaving through traffic. Jack handled the heavy fat boy with a care and reverence that made her feel safe despite the rushing pavement beneath them. As they left the concrete and steel of the city behind them, the temperature cooled and Ally’s tension began to ease. Traffic thinned out until they traveled alone on the road. Factories, bus stops, and people disappeared to be replaced by miles of white fence, cows, and rolling meadows. She held tight to Jack’s waist, her fingers hooked in his belt for added security, her inner thighs squeezing around his slim hips and the rock hard muscles of his legs. Eyes closed, she savored the caress of the wind through her hair and the vibration of the finely tuned machine beneath her. The energy and strength of Jack’s body seeped into her with every passing mile. With him next to her it was easy to imagine that she was someone else, living someone else’s life, without a care in the world.
He pulled off the road at a copse of aged oak trees. The road narrowed into an overgrown access trail that curved beneath the gnarled branches. The midsummer heat dissipated in the shade of the lacy canopy. Sunlight dappled the path, interspersing
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