“You ready?” I nearly choked on my words.

She snuggled in tight, grazing my ear with something—maybe her nose? “You smell good,” she whispered, and I squeezed the handlebars.

Son of a . . .

She was doing this on purpose.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” I said, slipping on my helmet.

“You usually take what you want,” she retorted. “Don’t you?”

I shook my head as her chin lay to rest on my shoulder, determined not to walk into that one. We took off, flying down the street as her front leaned forward into my back and her arms tightened even more.

Taking a few turns, I steered us toward the long city streets where we could drive at a decent speed but not too fast. Cruising easily down the calm stretches of road, I felt her relax and lean into me more, her body moving in sync with mine when I weaved to change lanes or turn.

She felt beautiful. Just like always. My body was squeezed between her tight thighs, and she stayed close. Her head—or chin or cheek—never left my back, and we drove the deserted back roads and neighborhood streets just like we used to. Back when we realized how awful it was to be apart and how much we wanted to be together, no matter what we were doing. We simply had to be touching.

And after about a half hour, she remembered, too.

Her hands drifted underneath my jacket and skimmed my waist, her fingers slowly splaying out across my stomach.

I breathed harder as she rubbed my abs, dragging her fingernails across my skin, where every one of my muscles was on alert, thanks to her.

One of her hands moved down the inside of my thigh, and I felt a flutter in my chest.

She grazed my ear with her moist lips and breathed out my name. “Jared.”

I held my hands stiff on the handlebars, almost afraid I’d lose control.

I reached back, taking her thigh in my hand. That soft skin just above the knee teased me. Urging her closer, I strained for control, feeling the heat between her legs hug my back, and I took us back home before I gave in to temptation and pulled over in a back alley.

In front of my house, I took off my helmet and sat there, because her fucking hands hadn’t stopped, and it felt too damn good.

“I missed riding with you.” The warmth of her whisper coated my ear. “Not like at the race Friday night, but cruising like this. It’s like dancing, the way I move with your body.”

I turned my head, leaning into her mouth as she grazed my ear. “It is. The kind of dancing I’m good at.”

And I hissed when she reached around and took my cock in her hand, massaging it and making it painfully hard. It was trying to punch through my jeans.

“Fuck.”

I squeezed her thigh and then gave in. Twisting my body, I slid one arm under her arms and gripped her thigh with the other, hauling her into the front to straddle me.

She didn’t hesitate. Grabbing the back of my neck, she pulled me into her lips, and I fucking took her mouth with just as much force.

Jesus Christ.

Tate’s kisses were like a game. She came in, moving quick as she licked and bit and massaged, then releasing me just early enough to jack me up and leave me hanging. She always teased, letting me taste her tongue as it licked mine, and then took everything away, and I was a damn junkie needing another fix.

And her body. Her tight stomach and perfect legs moving against me and on me were nothing compared to how she looked naked and moving the same way.

Gripping her ass in both hands, I jerked her into my cock, grinding her so she’d feel me even deep inside.

Then I leaned forward, pushing her back on the bike, desperate to slide my hand up her sweatshirt.

But I just sat there, pressing my forehead to hers as we both breathed hard. I knew she wanted it. I knew I fucking wanted it.

Except I was suddenly hit by where this would put us in the morning. We’d fuck, probably all night, and love every second of it. I knew she wouldn’t say no if I took her inside right now, but . . .

“Do you want to come in?” she gasped, taking my face in her hands. “Jared, please.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, my dick feeling like it was going to combust if it didn’t get to her, but . . . damn . . .

I didn’t want to just screw.

I wanted her to love me again. I wanted her to say she was mine.

And I didn’t want to have to bully her about it, either.

Taking a deep breath, I sat up and shook my head. “No.”

Her eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”

I heaved out a sigh, feeling like I’d rather chew tin foil than say no to her again.

I took her hands and pulled her up. “Come on,” I urged, climbing off the bike. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

She looked absolutely stunned as she slid off the bike and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Are you serious?”

I almost laughed. She’d always been the one in control in the past, and this was certainly new for both of us.

I put my arm around her shoulder, walking up her walkway. “Take the week,” I told her. “Go to your job. Read your books. Take a great big swim in Lake You,” I teased, walking up her porch stairs. “And if, at the end of the week, you’re ready to give me this,” I turned her around and placed my hand on her heart, “then I’ll take this.” And I slid my hand between her legs, holding her pussy.

She jerked, her eyes rounding again as she stilled.

I leaned in, kissing her lips softly, and then made my way back over to Jax’s house before I had a chance to rethink my stupid decision.