Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
A motorcycle.
And Kylo was standing beside it with a wicked smirk tugging at his lips as I slowly pulled in, my heartbeat thrumming.
“It was on your list too,” he told me as I climbed out and strapped my crossbody bag over my chest. “And I just so happened to have one.” He watched me, likely taking in the way anxiety was overtaking the shock. “Or we can take your car, no pressure.”
“Do you have an extra helmet?” I asked, my belly fluttering.
He stepped aside to show one hanging off the handlebar.
“And you’ll go slow? Ish?” I asked, ignoring the way my heartbeat was tripping into overdrive.
“I will.” He gestured toward my car again. “Or, if you’re not ready—”
“No,” I cut him off, stepping closer to the bike. “No, let’s go.”
I knew if I gave myself even thirty seconds to debate it, I would chicken out. Then all I would do for the foreseeable future was beat myself up about backing out.
Kylo, seeming to sense the urgency, quickly helped me adjust the helmet, put his own on, and climbed on the bike.
“Just climb on behind me, scoot close, and hold on,” he instructed.
Pretending my legs weren’t wobbling, I made my way over and then climbed on.
As I shifted close and wrapped my arms around Kylo’s midsection, though, my heart started hammering for an entirely different reason.
Feeling his chest rising and falling beneath my forearms distracted me enough that I barely noticed the purr of the engine coming alive beneath me.
It wasn’t until my stomach dropped as the bike lurched forward I remembered that I was supposed to be freaking out.
My arms squeezed tighter, and my legs crushed around the outsides of his as I held on for dear life while my system adjusted to the sensation.
True to his word, Kylo seemed to just barely be doing the speed limit, and he was careful to brake little by little ahead of a light or stop sign and slow down on the curves.
Little by little, inch by inch, I felt myself relaxing, felt the tension leaving my muscles and the panic loosening its hold on my throat.
I didn’t move away, though. Not because of fear, but because I liked having the excuse to stay close to Kylo, to feel his firm back against my chest, his warmth around my arms as the wind whipped past us.
It didn’t surprise me that as the moments passed and my mind cleared of its anxiety, desire gripped my system like a vice. It was in the shortness of breath, the swooping sensation in my chest, the tightening in my lower stomach, and the aching between my thighs.
I had the absolutely insane thought that I should rub against him, but was quick to brush that away before I did something completely humiliating.
It wasn’t a short ride to Miami, yet it felt like we got there way too quickly for my liking.
When the engine cut, I had the strangest sensation of the vibration still moving through my legs, stomach, and chest.
“It’ll pass,” Kylo assured me as he lowered the kickstand and climbed off, leaving me no choice but to move and do the same. “How was it?” he asked, reaching to undo my helmet then carefully pull it off my head, mindful to free strands of hair that got caught in it.
“Terrifying for about a minute, then kind of cool. I mean, I’m not running out to get a motorcycle license or anything, but I’m happy to have another thing to scratch off my list. Thank you for going easy on me.”
“Of course. I’m glad it was worth the shot.”
“Okay. So, I did a little research, and there are about four different places we can go to for… no?” I asked when he shook his head.
“It’s all set up,” he told me.
“Wait… what? How?”
“I know someone,” he said.
“That sounds like something a guy in a mob movie says.”
“Nah,” he said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, looking disarmingly boyish for a second. “Definitely not in the mafia. But I have a friend who is… there’s not a nice way to say he’s disgustingly wealthy, is there?”
“Not really, no.”
“Well, he’s rich as fuck. He recently bought a property on Golden Beach.”
“Wait… isn’t Golden Beach that, like, island thing where…”
“Where the rich guys play? Yeah. One of the only private beaches on the island. And Teddy’s estate steps right up to the sand. Honestly, don’t know what he’s thinking. Seems like one strong storm might sink the place.”
“I guess when you’re that wealthy, it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“That’s true. Anyway, he is at some charity event in New York. The place is sitting empty. He lent us it, his chauffeur, and the boat.”
“Why do we need a chauffeur?”
“Because he’s also… a boat guy. I dunno. Rich people staffing is weird. But he will have the boat and parasailing shit all set up for us.”