Scarred: A New Adult Romance (The Anderson Brothers Series Book 1) by Marie Long Read Free Book Online Page B

purse.”
    I
exhale. It’s progress in a big way. She’s trusting me. I let go of her hand and
watch her disappear back inside the house. I hear voices rise from within, and
then Denise comes back outside, looking slightly annoyed.
    “All
right, let’s go,” she says.
    I
keep my thoughts about their argument to myself and lead Denise down the
walkway to my bike.
    She
runs her hand along the red tank and over the seat. There’s hesitation in her
eyes.
    Smiling
reassuringly, I unlock the extra helmet from the side of the bike and hand it
to her. “Here. You need to wear this.”
    She
gingerly takes the helmet and stares at it. It’s a black-and-white full-face
helmet with gold-colored abstract designs on it. There are signs of obvious
wear on the helmet, but it’s otherwise fully functional. She slips it on over
her head—and over that fantastic hairdo that she’d probably just gotten
done—and I help her. The helmet is a little big but seems to fit her well
enough. After securing the strap under her chin, I look her over. “How’s that?”
    She
pulls up the face shield and grumbles, “I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is
totally going to mess up my hair.”
    I
laugh. “It’ll be fine. Your hair is beautiful regardless.”
    She
rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
    I
shrug out of my jacket and hand it to her. “Here. So you won’t get too cold.”
    “Thanks,”
she says, taking it. “But what about you?”
    “I’ll
be fine.” I’m already hot just thinking
about you sitting behind me.
    She
slings her small square purse across her body and puts on the jacket.
    I
slip on my helmet and mount my bike. “Come on.” I motion to the raised back
seat for passengers. “Sit in that spot behind me.”
    “How
do I get on?”
    I
point to the foot pegs on either side of the lower frame, near the back tire.
“Put one foot there, swing your other leg over, and sit.”
    “Geez,
glad I wore pants,” she mutters, and I chuckle.
    She
hesitates a moment before managing to heft herself up. That whiff of pears and
cocoa plays with my senses again. “Am I sitting right?” she asks, her voice
muffled from the helmet.
    I
look behind me and nod. “Good. Now, keep your feet there, wrap your arms around
my waist and … ” I fall silent as I feel her slender arms around me. Her hands
squeeze my abs, and I feel the softness of the rest of her body pressing
against my back. I swallow a lump in my throat. My groin tightens.
    “Am
I holding too tight?” she asks.
    I
swallow again. “N … No, not at all. Hold as tight as you need to, and keep your
arms around me.”
    “Don’t
worry, I don’t intend to let go.”
    I
beam so wide my cheeks hurt. I am not about to complain about her holding too
tight. Her touch is electrifying.
    I
start up the engine and slowly ease away from the curb. Denise clutches my abs
and stomach tighter, nearly making me gasp for breath. But the feeling does
more than startle me; it gets me harder. Riding on a motorcycle with a hard-on
is absolute torture. Why does she have to be so amazing? I don’t think I’ll be
able to concentrate on dinner at this rate.
    I
take all the side streets and make it to Jade Fusion a little after seven.
There’s an unreserved parking space right outside the restaurant that’s just
big enough for a bike to fit. I maneuver my way into the space, throw down the
kickstand, and shut off the engine. While I take off my helmet, I wait for her
to get off the bike.
    “And
this is why I love to ride,” I say, gesturing to the parking space I managed to
squeeze into.
    She
stumbles a little as she dismounts, but I reach out for her hand to help steady
her. She fiddles with the snaps and loops of her helmet, and pulls it off. The
helmet has done little to mess up her hair. All of her braids are still intact,
and her naturally curly ponytail is still full of life, just like her. She
peers at herself in one of the bike’s mirrors and brushes the front
edges of her hair