Frost (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham #3) - Candace Blevins Page 0,10

Mad Dog some respect before you left. If you’d just said fuck you and left, it’d be different. No one hates you, Cheyenne.”

I took a step, grabbed the helmet from him, and put it on.

He turned me and tucked my hair into my shirt. “You know how a flag’s ends get tattered in a rough wind? The ends of your hair will look like that if you leave them loose. You want to keep them tucked in as much as possible.”

I reached back, braided the ponytail, and pulled another hairband from my wrist to secure the end. It was easier to tuck the braid away than a loose ponytail.

While I put my jacket on and buttoned it, he adjusted the chin strap. It felt cozy. Familiar.

I breathed in. “I don’t smell anyone else on the helmet.”

“I bought it new. It’s yours. I hope you get a lot of use out of it.”

He put his helmet on, pulled his face shield down, pushed mine down, and I jumped when he talked because I heard his voice inside my helmet. He reached up and stuck his finger in the side of his own helmet, behind his ear. “Feel here. There’s a plus and a minus; that’s your volume control.”

I mirrored him, and he shook his head, so I used my other hand and felt what he was talking about.

“Don’t turn it down yet. I won’t talk too much until we get rolling. You’ll want it turned up once we’re moving.”

When I finally threw my leg over his bike and sat behind him, I hadn’t expected it to feel so intimate. The scent of owl, and Frost, so close. So warm. My arms around him, holding him, his rock-hard abs under my hands. And, because I knew how fat his dick is, I couldn’t help but think I only needed to reach down a little and it would be right there.

Once we were moving, his voice in my helmet talked me through how to lean with him. By the time we reached the canyon’s curvy mountain roads, I had the hang of it. It’s like we were in synch with each other, doing a kind of dance on the road, moving along this rolling, flowing charcoal ribbon that wove its way through the vibrant green forest.

I’d been to the largest waterfall in the canyon before, of course. It’s right on the road. Or rather, under it. You can easily see the water spilling over the top of the falls from upstream, but you need to get out and walk to get the pretty view looking back at it from downstream. Most people walk down the trail far enough to look down on the falls, but Frost kept going, and we took the trail down into the canyon. Not many humans do this, since it’s treacherous in places, but it was no problem for us.

We walked up to the base of the falls, and then rock-hopped our way until we were in the spray. I turned to speak to him, and the next thing I knew the heat of his mouth was on mine, and the world spun around us. The thundering falls, the mist, his mouth, his invading tongue, the clear blue sky I couldn’t see because my eyes were closed, and the strength of his arms, wrapped around me, holding me.

Nothing else existed. I fell into his universe, full of white noise and warm hands. The kiss lasted an eternity, and yet it wasn’t long enough. I breathed him in, along with the clean mist around us. The scent of the forest.

And then, when he pulled away, complete and total lust slammed into me. I lifted my right leg and looped it around his waist. My arms had been around his neck, and I pulled a hand back to caress his cheek. I felt as if I should say something, but my scrambled brain couldn’t form words.

Finally, I came back to my senses, put my right foot back on the ground, and told him, “We’ve kissed before, but never like that. It’s like those others didn’t count, and that was our first kiss.”

He kissed my forehead. “Agreed. I’ve never kissed Cheyenne before. Everything’s going to be new for us.”

We’d put our jackets into the bike’s sidesaddles when we parked. I was wearing a spaghetti-strap shirt, so my arms were bare and the sun felt wonderful on them. I sat and unlaced my boots. “Need to be barefoot here. Need to feel the

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