"You sure you can take this back on the bike?" I asked, showing Blaze the gas can.
"Yeah," he said. "We'll strap it to the sissy bar. It's only a couple miles."
I felt a thrill of excitement as I slid behind him and the bike roared to life underneath me, just like on the way here. My hands were around his chest, and I was pressed up against him. Riding on the back of a bike generated an immediate sense of intimacy. It was like dancing with someone. You had to mold yourself to them, move with their body. Just like sex.
Heat rose to my cheeks at the thought of sex. I needed to stop thinking about sex with him. But it was hard not to when I could feel his chest hard under my hands. It made me want to slide my hands down farther, down his waist, then lower.
Damn it. Stop. It's not like I was going through a dry spell or something, like I’d gone without for a while. I could feel the dampness between my legs. What the hell was wrong with me? It was embarrassing. I need to just file those thoughts away for later.
I hated driving in the dark, and it was getting late. I would get a hotel tonight rather than keep pushing through to Los Angeles, spend some time in a warm bath. Then I could think about Blaze. There was that bed and breakfast up the road where I’d stayed before; I would stay there tonight. Dad would shit a brick when he sent a guy up to school to find me tomorrow and I wasn’t there, but I’d just have to make it home before the guy called my father to report my absence.
At least fantasizing about Blaze would keep the thoughts of Billy out of my head, the thoughts about what he had done, and what he might do when he awoke. I wondered if Billy had woken up yet, or if he'd just slept the entire day. It was stupid, leaving him in my apartment like that, after tossing his wallet and phone. He would probably trash the place. I'd have to call someone, get it cleaned up. It went without saying now, of course, that Billy had a real temper.
I was almost sorry to let go of Blaze when we pulled up to the car; I wanted to stay pressed up against him. He filled the gas tank for me, trying to be a gentleman, I guess. I wondered if he was the type of guy who still opened doors for women. A gentleman outlaw biker. The thought made me smile because it was ridiculous.
I looked out at the water, the sunset painting the sky with reds and pinks, the colors reflected on the ocean. This would be a really romantic spot in other circumstances, ones that didn't involve me running out of gas and having a meltdown on the side of the road.
"Well, there you go," Blaze said, setting the container on the ground. "You should be all set."
"Thanks for everything." I tucked my hair behind my ear, a nervous habit. Why the hell was I nervous? I could feel the blood pumping in my ears.
"No problem. It's not everyday I get to rescue a pretty girl on the side of the road."
I stepped forward, close to him, and stood on my tip-toes, brushing the side of his cheek with my lips. I don't know what I was thinking, or why I did it. It seemed like the thing to do. But I lingered a moment too long, and he turned, covering my mouth with his before I could even think. Blaze kissed me hard and my body responded instantly to his touch.
This is so fucked up, I thought, after last night. I just couldn’t stop kissing him. Billy had tried to kill me last night, and I hadn’t died. I was grateful to be alive. I wanted to feel alive. I wanted Blaze's hands on my body, his heat against my skin.
I slipped my hands underneath his shirt, savoring the feeling of his firm chest, and a moan escaped my lips as his tongue pressed against mine. Then his hand was under my shirt, up under my bra, covering my breast, palm rough against my soft skin. My nipple hardened to his touch, and he silenced my moan with his mouth. I kissed him hungrily, wanting more, wanting all of him. My hands fumbled with the button of his jeans, but he pushed them away.
“Wait,” he said.
“I want-” I panted the words, barely able to speak, heady with anticipation and the knowledge that I shouldn’t be doing this. I should be running home. I should be calling a therapist to talk about my feelings. I should be crying about how Billy had tried to kill me. I shouldn’t be doing this. Not with him, a total stranger. I didn’t know why I was doing it. All I knew is that I wanted the feeling of him fucking me to obliterate my thoughts, to erase everything going through my brain. I wanted my orgasm to be all-encompassing. I needed it to be the only thing I could think about.
Blaze slid his hands under my ass, spinning me back against the side of the car. He dropped to his knees, unbuttoning my pants and pulling them down my thighs, the summer air cool against my growing wetness. I shuddered, goose pimples dotting my arms, not sure if I was shivering more because of the cool ocean breeze or because of what he was about to do. He pushed me back hard against the car, the metal pressing against my bare ass as he gripped my thighs, looking up at me with those piercing blue eyes.
Blaze let out a strangled noise, parting my legs with his hands as he angled his head to reach my pussy. Touching his warm tongue to my clit, he covered me with his mouth and I laced my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.
I really shouldn’t be doing this, I thought. Not here, not on the side of the road with this biker. Someone could drive by and see us, out here in the open.
But then Blaze looked up at me, licking his lips, wet with my juices. “You taste so good.”
Oh God, I thought. Now it was over. I felt a gush of arousal at his words, and the misgivings I had were swept aside by my lust. I desperately wanted him, more than anything.