Our Finest Moment ✔️

24

LIANA

It's horrible.

Everything about this is horrible. I have to hold onto Colton's too-hard torso, I can't tell him how stupid it is that he gave me his only helmet, and he goes too fast. I clutch him so tightly, I can't feel my hands, and I have my eyes closed the entire time.

Of course he drives a fucking motorcycle, and of course I had to be stubborn and get on it after he knew I wanted him to drive us home. On the bright side, the wedding is on track to be a very good day for me, and Colton had no objections—not even to the whole white tux and black dress-idea, which I was sure he was going to shut down.

"You can let go now." Colton's dark voice brings me out of my thoughts, making me aware that we've stopped outside of his house. I'd been too focused on thinking away the speed and wind and danger to even realize we'd come back home so quickly.

It takes a few seconds before my hands and arms respond to the signals my brain sends, and finally let go of his waist. I climb off, and hand him the helmet as I clear my throat. "Thanks for the ride," I mutter, before turning on my heel, pulling a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You didn't like that?" he asks. When I just stop and don't reply, he adds, "I didn't think you'd be afraid of a little speed and wind."

I bite my lip, my teeth moving back and forth a few times, before I turn back around and look at his nonchalant pose above the monstrosity. His helmet rests in front of him, both hand hands placed on top of it, as he arches a brow at me. I hoped we wouldn't be talking when we got back, and that we'd just get back to our new normal—avoiding each other like the plague.

"I'm not," I finally protest, raising my chin, "I'm afraid of how little respect other people on the roads have for motorcycles."

"I thought you were suicidal," he retorts, swinging a leg over the back of the bike. "Are you not?"

He looks too graceful for his own good. His hair is ruffled from the wind, and still it looks like he just ran a hand through it and made it look panty-dropping. Not that I'd want to drop my panties on the ground, they're too expensive for that because of his stupid rule.

It turns out black lace isn't the cheapest thing you can buy, but lucky for me, the guy who made that rule is paying for it. And he's also not seeing that I'm following that rule. Every day. Thankfully.

A part of me wishes he knows I'm following it, but...that would mean him seeing me in my underwear, and that's not what I want.

"No." I shake my head. "I've decided to take full advantage of you and our...arrangement."

"Have you?" He steps closer, his hand coming up to pull away another loose strand of hair, before his fingers move to under my chin, pulling it up. "Are you following my rules, little one?"

"Yes." I try not to sound as affected as I am. His fingers are sending tingles down my whole body, and his dark blue gaze is making my stomach twist. The way his lips curl on one side sends anticipation way down south as well, reminding me of how pleased he looked when he'd licked me, and left me on the edge of my climax. "Do you want to see?" I ask before thinking too hard.

His eyes moves slowly down my body, letting me know he knows exactly what I was hinting at. "I trust you," he replies, "you know what happens if you don't."

"That I do." I nod. I swallow. And then I let my focus fall to the open button on his chest.

He steps closer.

Both his hands finds the belt on my coat, and he unties it. It falls open, and he pulls on my modified band-shirt. I liked wearing the flowery crop top so much that I decided to make a few more out of the band t-shirts I got. This one has Dorian's favorite band on it, the emblem depicting a knuckle duster across my breasts. His eyes moves down my cleavage, and he tilts his head to one side as he pulls on the bottom of the shirt.