Loner by Harloe Rae Page 0,68
lips.
A lopsided smirk tips his lips. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy in your tone?”
I scoff and cross my arms. “Absolutely not.” The lie is so vivid it’s a surprise my pants aren’t on fire.
“You can be possessive of me. I don’t mind.”
I toss my braid off my shoulder. “I’m not delusional. We have no claim on each other, Ford.”
He stalks into my personal space, lifting my chin until we’re locked in an electric standoff. “The idea of you fucking another guy drives me to the brink of madness. There’s no denying that you have a hold on me. You’re the only woman I want. And for the record, I added that rear seat specifically for you.”
Well, that’s one way to shut me up. Does that mean he actually cares about me? It’s hard to tell when he’s usually operating on pure piss and vinegar. I take a much-needed backward stumble. “Uh, wow. Wasn’t expecting that.”
His nostrils flare with a snort. “Get used to it.”
Static buzzes in my ears. I part my lips, closing them a second later. Formulating a response to that isn’t happening—all I see is an endless sea of white. “I’m not sure what you mean. Is that why you wanted me all to yourself?”
“Among the other reasons I told you about.”
At least he doesn’t bother denying it. If I’m being honest, his declaration floods me with a familiar molten heat. It’s official. If this guy keeps playing his cards right, he’s totally getting laid. Does that make me easy? Most likely. Even if it does, I’m already teetering off the ledge of caring. But where does this path lead to after a few overdue orgasms? I add that to my worry list for tomorrow.
“In any case, this is an impressive cushion.” I give the elevated backseat a pat.
“Decker got me thinking,” he muses.
“About what?”
“A lady and her throne.” He chops a hand through the air. “Never mind. Will that be big enough for you?”
I take another glance at the wide section reserved for my butt. “I’m trying not to be offended by your question.”
Crawford’s scowl gains intensity. “We both know you have a fine ass. Don’t go digging for reassurance. I just want you to be comfortable.”
“Okay, that’s better.”
Crawford looms over me, his towering frame blocking out the sunlight. “Want me to worship your ass, Kee?”
I gulp as heat flares in my cheeks. “Uh, maybe later,” I squeak. We’re still in my freaking driveway, for crying out loud.
His dark chuckle snares me. “I’ll circle round to that when we arrive at the landing.”
“The what? You never told me where we’re going.”
“You’ll see.” He gestures to my seat. “Hop on.”
As I get situated, Crawford digs through the saddlebags attached to both sides of his bike. He hands me an emerald green helmet and black leather jacket. “Hope those fit. If they don’t, we can return them for the right size.”
I take his proffered gifts with trembling fingers. When was the last time a man gave me a present? It’s been years, and those came with conditions. I clear the lump of emotion from my throat. “Thank you. How much do I owe—”
“Don’t even think about it. These are from me to you. End of.”
“Okay.” I nod while slipping on the jacket. “This is very thoughtful.”
“And smart. Safety is important, Kee. Accidents happen too often.”
I wince at the sting his reminder causes. The scar tissue throbs beneath layers of dense grief. Crawford isn’t immune to the pain that tragedy delivers. He’s all too aware of how fast circumstances change. I don’t respond to the slash of caution in his voice. Words aren’t necessary in this heavy moment.
He straddles the seat in front of me, leaning back to position my arms. “You can hold onto my waist or the bars at your sides. Sitting upright as a beginner can be an odd position, but you’ll figure out what feels best for you. Just make sure you’re following the flow of movements.”
“Um, okay. Got it.” I latch myself around his bulky form, enjoying the feel of him against me a little too much. Barreling lust aside, this seems like the safest choice since he’s responsible for steering.
“You’ll see what I mean.” Crawford’s torso flexes beneath my flat palms. I try not to let his reaction, or nearness, affect me. The blast of heat under my skin can easily be blamed on the layers I’m wearing, but his muscles seem to quiver when I tighten my hold.
Before I can comment,