Fantasy Boyfriend (A Tattooed Bad Boy Romance) by Vanessa Stone Read Free Book Online

the back of the seat.
    "Put your feet on the pedals," he instructed,
his voice slightly muffled through the helmet. He grasped my right ankle and
guided it onto the foot pedal. I glanced down to my left and did the same.
    "Put on your helmet and strap it," came
next.
    I put the helmet on and nervously fastened the strap
under my chin, making sure that the helmet was snug enough that it wouldn't
come flying off. Then I slid on the pair of sunglasses he had given me. Okay,
so no bugs in my eyes, but what about my mouth? Once that was done, I wasn't
quite sure what to do with my hands. He seemed to read my mind.
    "Wrap your arms around my waist," he
directed.
    He didn't wait for me to comply, but immediately
reached around for my hands, placed them around his waist, and laughed. I could
feel the rumble of his laughter as my breasts rested lightly against his back.
    "Ready?"
    I nodded, and then realizing he couldn't see me, I
muttered a yes. I realized that he still couldn't hear me, so I spoke up and
repeated it. My hands still wrapped around his waist, he pressed a small red
button near the right handle and the bike rumbled to life beneath me. It wasn't
as loud as I thought it would be, but I was startled by the vibration. My
heartbeat accelerated. I couldn't believe it. I was going riding who knows
where on the back of a motorcycle with a guy I barely knew. No, a guy that I
didn't know at all. Luke Bradford, that was about it. On one hand, I was
excited about the new adventure, as my girlfriends had said, but on the other,
I was terrified.
    Just as I was about ready to chicken out and tell him
that I would meet him wherever he planned on taking me, he moved his left foot
and the bike surged forward. I uttered a squeaking sound, tightened my clasp
around his waist, and off we were.
    "Relax!" he said, turning his head slightly
to the left and speaking to me over a shoulder.
    "Watch the road!" I shouted back.
    Soon, we were winding our way through the streets of
Boston. He didn't go super-fast, and I was grateful that we weren't out on the
open road but on city streets. Still, on a bike, without the security of metal
between me and the pavement or other vehicles, I felt extremely vulnerable.
After the first couple of minutes, however, I did start to relax. It was kind
of fun – thrilling actually. I felt the wind on my face, though grateful for
the sunglasses that kept any possible bugs out of my eyes. I actually began to
enjoy the ride. I kept my mouth closed, but did manage to loosen my grip around
his waist just a little bit. He had no fat, but was lean and all muscle. My thighs
hugged the side of the bike and his hips, much like I was riding a horse, which
I was used to doing.
    The buildings passed by in a blur and the bike rumbled
beneath me as we passed cars, made several turns, and soon I instinctively got the
hang of leaning my body weight in the direction he was turning. It was a lot
like riding a horse, actually, and I found myself enjoying it immensely. Before
long, he pulled into a parking lot, found a space, and turned the bike into it.
Several moments later, the vibration stopped as he turned off the ignition.
    "You get off first," he said.
    I did, reaching my fingers up to unstrap the helmet as
I did so. He followed immediately after, doing the same. Holding the helmet in
one hand, his hair slightly mussed, he looked down at me with an expectant
expression.
    "What do you think?"
    I smiled. “That was fun. I was nervous at first,
because I've never written a motorcycle, but it's a lot like riding a horse,
just not as fast."
    "I suppose where you came from, riding a horse
comes as naturally to you as walking."
    I nodded. “That it does."
    "Well, there you have it. This is your first time
riding a motorcycle. I've never ridden a horse, so you're one up on me."
    He placed the motorcycle helmets onto the hooks
attached to the back of the seat and then locked them into place. Then, turning
to me, he clasped my hand.