𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 | #𝟏 ✔️

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄

Our eyes meet in his side view mirror and a smile forms on my lips when he winks at me. We maintain eye contact and then finally, he puts down his visor and his eyes are no longer in view, I follow and lower mine too. My vision slightly darkens, though I still have a clear view of the street and cars that pass by.

Saint glances over his shoulder and gives me a small nod that I return, like a silent understanding between us. I lean in closer to him, my head nearly rests on his shoulder and my eyes watch his hand reach for the ignition. The rumble of the engine echoes in the air and the bike grumbles beneath us, sending vibrations through my whole body. A potent reminder of the power that lies beneath us.

His fingers expertly twist the throttle, a surge of energy coursing through the bike. The engine roars to life, its growl is fierce and inviting, and we're gladly accepting it. The sound overlaps the crickets and sounds of other cars' engines with ease, drowning out the noise of reality and leaving only the thrill of the ride to come.

I tighten my grip around his waist, snaking it all the way around to his stomach and intertwining my fingers out of fear. "Hold on tight, sweetheart." He puts the kickstand back into place with his foot, and now, the only thing holding us up is him and his ability to balance. Saint's excitement mirrors mine, I can feel his other foot moving to switch to first gear, and the thrilling ride starts.

With the flick of his wrist, we start to move forward and he places his boots back on the footpegs. He gives the bike a quick rev, which resonates throughout the empty street as we cruise to our first stoplight. Each roll of the wheels as he increases the speed is the engine growing even louder, the wind teases strands of my hair and I'm sure it'll take me years to comb it back to normal after this ride.

"Just a few stoplights and turns, then we'll be on the highway." He informs me and it's sort of hard to hear him over the loud growls of the bike. The light turns green in no time and before I know it, I can feel the engine's power propelling us through the streets of New York. It pushes us faster and faster, my body leans in harmony with Saint's with each smooth turn.

My heart is pounding in sync with the motorcycle's increasing rhythm of the engine. The acceleration sends a jolt of adrenaline through my body and it's a feeling I've always yearned for. A thrilling mixture of freedom and exhilaration.

My adrenaline only increases as we exit the streets and make it onto the highway. This is where the fun starts. The wind is hitting my body and my hair is flowing perfectly behind me. The thrill of being on an open road with cars that we easily pass by, inches away from the bike gets me even more excited.

I can feel Saint chuckle from his stomach when I tighten my grip on him, it feels like my body is nearly going to be pulled off of this bike. I take a glance at the display on the motorcycle and see that we've climbed up to 152 MPH. The cars next to us are changing within seconds with how fast we're speeding through them.

As the world around us blurs into a vibrant tapestry of lights and colors, I lose myself in the moment. The wind rushes against my body, my senses could never be more alive than ever with the scent of asphalt and gasoline along with the symphony of the passing scenery. I hold on tighter, feeling the warmth of his body as he guides us through the twists and turns, his every move precise and confident.

At 167 MPH, we managed to find another biker on a Suzuki Hayabusa. It's fully white and has led lights under its body and rims that match ours. Saint does a few hand signals to him, which I'm assuming meant a race because not even a second later, he's climbing up to 180 with his chest pressed against the tank of the bike. He tucks and I do too to support him.

With every rev of the engine, I can sense his determination and focus, the joy of the ride etched into his features. Saint switches to third gear and immediately gaps him, I look over my shoulder to see the Hayabusa lost in the midst of the crowd of other cars and trucks and he chuckles. "Weak." He mumbles, leaning left and right with ease to pass by each car.