Read Online The Perfect Dish by Kristen Painter - Free Book Online
Authors: Kristen Painter
Ads: Link
away. “I am not getting on that thing. No way. They’re dangerous. You could die.”
He set the helmet on the seat, turned to face her and put his hands on her shoulders. “A smart woman once told me everything kills you sooner or later.”
“I prefer later.” The heavy warmth of his hands on her shoulders took the edge off her nerves.
His crystal blue gaze was impossible to look away from. “Mery, it’s perfectly safe.”
Mery . The shortening of her name seemed like a very intimate gesture. Like he’d kissed her gently or cupped her cheek in his palm. She realized she was nodding. She hadn’t meant to agree.
“You’ll love it, promise.” He grabbed the helmet and handed it to her. “You wear the helmet. It’s a short trip. Next time I’ll bring an extra.”
She stared at her reflection in the shiny black finish of the thing. Next time? What in the name of all that was holy made him think there would be a next time?
He checked a few things on the bike, then swung a leg over and positioned himself in the seat. “You gonna put that on or admire yourself all day?”
Stall. Play dumb. Call a taxi. She held the helmet out. “I don’t know what to do with it.”
He took it from her. “C’mere.”
She stepped forward. He set the helmet on his lap and crooked his finger for her to come closer. “All the way. I can’t reach you from here.”
Another few steps and the side of his leg touched hers.
He reached up, tucked her hair behind her ears then lifted the helmet and eased it over her head. “How’s that feel?”
She shook her head. The helmet twisted back and forth. “Should it be this loose? That can’t be good. Loose can’t be good.”
“It’s my helmet. It’s gonna be big.” He ducked his head and fiddled with the chinstrap. “That’s as tight as I can get it.”
The helmet muted the sounds of the city. She inhaled. It smelled like whatever he used on his hair. Sort of the outdoorsy scent of sheets dried in the sun. It suited him. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. “Now what?”
He winked. “Hop on and hold on.”
“Right now?” She swallowed. “This is a bad idea.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “‘Fraid putting your arms around me will be more than you can handle?”
“No.” That hadn’t actually occurred to her. New tremors traveled down her spine and into her thighs. “I just don’t want my brains all over the street.”
He knocked on the helmet, the dull thump-thump in rhythm with her rapidly beating heart. “This’ll keep the mess to a minimum.”
“That’s reassuring.” She gathered up her courage, rested her hand on his shoulder for support and swung a leg over the seat. As soon as she settled into the seat, she realized nothing separated her crotch from his backside but a few layers of denim. Her temperature started to climb.
“Put your arms around my waist,” he said over his shoulder.
With as little grip as possible, she slid her arms beneath his elbows. She didn’t know what to do with her hands so she interlaced her fingers and tried to relax. Two seconds later she noticed she’d just made a little tent over his crotch. She jerked her hands up and felt his sides shaking. He was laughing at her.
“Most girls wait until at least the second date to try that.”
“This is not a date,” she ground out. It was just supposed to look like one. Not that anyone would recognize her with a helmet covering her head.
“Yes ma’am, whatever you say.” He reached forward and started the bike. The machine beneath her roared like an angry beast. She squeezed her arms tighter around him. He shifted in the seat, pressing his backside further between her legs. He patted her hands, now safely positioned over his ribcage, checked the traffic and pulled out.
Every muscle in her body tensed as the bike moved. She pressed herself against him, not caring how much they touched. The steady vibration of the engine overrode her apprehensive tremors.
At the first
He set the helmet on the seat, turned to face her and put his hands on her shoulders. “A smart woman once told me everything kills you sooner or later.”
“I prefer later.” The heavy warmth of his hands on her shoulders took the edge off her nerves.
His crystal blue gaze was impossible to look away from. “Mery, it’s perfectly safe.”
Mery . The shortening of her name seemed like a very intimate gesture. Like he’d kissed her gently or cupped her cheek in his palm. She realized she was nodding. She hadn’t meant to agree.
“You’ll love it, promise.” He grabbed the helmet and handed it to her. “You wear the helmet. It’s a short trip. Next time I’ll bring an extra.”
She stared at her reflection in the shiny black finish of the thing. Next time? What in the name of all that was holy made him think there would be a next time?
He checked a few things on the bike, then swung a leg over and positioned himself in the seat. “You gonna put that on or admire yourself all day?”
Stall. Play dumb. Call a taxi. She held the helmet out. “I don’t know what to do with it.”
He took it from her. “C’mere.”
She stepped forward. He set the helmet on his lap and crooked his finger for her to come closer. “All the way. I can’t reach you from here.”
Another few steps and the side of his leg touched hers.
He reached up, tucked her hair behind her ears then lifted the helmet and eased it over her head. “How’s that feel?”
She shook her head. The helmet twisted back and forth. “Should it be this loose? That can’t be good. Loose can’t be good.”
“It’s my helmet. It’s gonna be big.” He ducked his head and fiddled with the chinstrap. “That’s as tight as I can get it.”
The helmet muted the sounds of the city. She inhaled. It smelled like whatever he used on his hair. Sort of the outdoorsy scent of sheets dried in the sun. It suited him. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. “Now what?”
He winked. “Hop on and hold on.”
“Right now?” She swallowed. “This is a bad idea.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “‘Fraid putting your arms around me will be more than you can handle?”
“No.” That hadn’t actually occurred to her. New tremors traveled down her spine and into her thighs. “I just don’t want my brains all over the street.”
He knocked on the helmet, the dull thump-thump in rhythm with her rapidly beating heart. “This’ll keep the mess to a minimum.”
“That’s reassuring.” She gathered up her courage, rested her hand on his shoulder for support and swung a leg over the seat. As soon as she settled into the seat, she realized nothing separated her crotch from his backside but a few layers of denim. Her temperature started to climb.
“Put your arms around my waist,” he said over his shoulder.
With as little grip as possible, she slid her arms beneath his elbows. She didn’t know what to do with her hands so she interlaced her fingers and tried to relax. Two seconds later she noticed she’d just made a little tent over his crotch. She jerked her hands up and felt his sides shaking. He was laughing at her.
“Most girls wait until at least the second date to try that.”
“This is not a date,” she ground out. It was just supposed to look like one. Not that anyone would recognize her with a helmet covering her head.
“Yes ma’am, whatever you say.” He reached forward and started the bike. The machine beneath her roared like an angry beast. She squeezed her arms tighter around him. He shifted in the seat, pressing his backside further between her legs. He patted her hands, now safely positioned over his ribcage, checked the traffic and pulled out.
Every muscle in her body tensed as the bike moved. She pressed herself against him, not caring how much they touched. The steady vibration of the engine overrode her apprehensive tremors.
At the first
Similar Books
