I wasn't going to rush into anything, but was just testing the waters. If I stuck my toe in and nothing bit it off, perhaps I could have a little bit of fun with Luke. Then again, he might turn out to be nothing but a big jerk. Time would tell.
I finally decided on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. After all, he had said casual. I wore my hair back into a simple ponytail, no makeup, and completed my ensemble with tennis shoes. I didn't think, with him driving, I would need anything, but I slid my student ID and a $20 bill into my tennis shoe just in case I decided halfway through the date that Luke just wasn't working for me called a cab to bring me home.
I glanced at the clock, realizing that Luke was scheduled to pick me up in ten minutes. Just as I decided that I would go downstairs and wait, a knock on my door caught my attention. "Come in!" Selena opened the door and stood in the doorway, giving me the once over.
"You wearing that on your first date?" she asked, her face scrunched with dismay.
"He said to dress casual," I shrugged. Selena, on the other hand, looks fantastic in a one-piece summer dress that clung to her body. A pair of flats and a few accessorized pieces of jewelry gave her a fresh, sophisticated look. "You, on the other hand, look great," I smiled.
She glanced down at herself and smiled. "I do, don't I?"
We both laughed and then she gestured over her shoulder.
"I'm going to leave and should be back by midnight. You?"
"I have no idea what Luke has planned. I have some money just in case I need to take a cab home, though. Where are you going?"
Selena smiled. “You're always expecting the worst when it comes to guys, aren't you?" She shook her head. "Well, no one can say that you're never prepared for Plan B. To answer your question, we're going to an Italian restaurant and then we’re going to stroll along the waterway."
I was just about to respond when I heard a loud noise outside in the street and then grew louder. I realized it was a motorcycle. I frowned, glanced at the clock, and then looked at Selena, my eyes wide. "I certainly hope that's not Luke!"
Selena quickly stepped into the room and made her way to the dormer window overlooking the street. "Black bike, black leather pants, black leather jacket, pulling off a black helmet, with the most luscious black hair I've ever seen?"
"Oh God, it is him," I exclaimed. "A motorcycle? I’ve never been on a motorcycle! I don't want to go racing around town on a motorcycle-"
Selena waved her hand. "Where's your sense of adventure, Jessica? I've been on a motorcycle plenty of times, it's perfectly safe! He’s wearing a helmet, and it looks like there's an extra one attached to the back of the bike.” She gestured out the window. “See? He's not careless."
I stood where I was, my heart pounding with dread and my mouth dry. Definitely not making my list! A motorcycle? On a first date? Was he crazy? A moment later, we heard the doorbell ring. I gave Selena a hopeless glance before rolling my eyes with asigh. "I just don't know," I said, leaving the room, muttering to myself as I made my way down the stairs. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Jessica?" I asked myself. I paused a moment before the door, then taking a deep breath and releasing it, I opened the door. In an instant, my anxiety disappeared. Luke stood there, looking dashing, handsome, wicked, rugged, and oh so sexy. He gave me a once over, grinning at my jeans and tennis shoes with a nod of approval. "You ready?"
I nibbled at my lip while I glanced over his shoulder toward the bike parked at the curb. "We’re riding that?"
"You bet," he said. He stepped back and gestured toward the bike. "Isn't she a beauty?"
I didn't really know what to say, but smiled nervously as I stepped from the security of the Victorian and into what might be a horrible experience. My stomach fluttered with butterflies while my heart continued to pound crazily. We could be killed on that thing. What if he tipped over? What if I got a bug in my eye? Even so, I had to admit that the bike did look nice. It had shiny dual chrome muffler pipes on each side and a low seat, onto the back of which I saw an extra helmet attached. As I got closer, I saw the brand emblazoned on the gas tank. "That's a Harley?" I didn’t know what I expected, but when I saw the name Harley, I associated it with motorcycle gangs, high-rise handlebars, and leather saddlebags. I glanced at him and noticed his eyes literally twinkling as he grinned at his machine.
"Two-thousand eight Harley Davidson FXD Dyna Super Glide," he nodded. “She is a beauty, isn't she?"
"I guess," I could only agree. The fenders and the gas tank were painted a glossy, shiny black, but the rest was all chrome. The seat was low in the front, with a raised portion on back over the rear fender, where he assumed I'd be riding. Two sets of foot pedals. "How do you keep it so clean?" He glanced at me and smiled.
"Plenty of TLC, and it's still relatively new."
A bike like that must have cost a fortune, I thought. Maybe even as much as a car. Then again, he’d probably financed it. He stepped to the rear of the bike and unlocked the latch that held the extra helmet in place. He extended it to me and then reached his hand into the front breast pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. He extended those to me as well. I slowly took both, eyeing the bike warily. I then glanced back at him. "I've never been on a bike before."
"You'll love it," he assured.
"You'll go slow, won’t you? I don't have any particular affinity for being splattered all over the pavement because you're being a showoff."
He laughed and shook his head. "You know, the more I get to know you, the more I like you." He paused a moment. "And yes, I’ll go slow… I always take things slow, especially with women.”
My heart thumped again, not with fear this time, but at the suggestion of his words, which implied more than the speed of his bike.
“Oh, by the way, allow me to properly introduce myself. I'm Luke William Bradford, of Plymouth, Massachusetts." He extended a hand, grin still evident.
I smiled and extended my hand. "Jessica Jay Mallory, of Billings, Montana. Pleased to meet you, Mister Bradford."
He laughed and then gestured toward the bike. "Let me get on first, and then you get on behind me, okay?”
"Okay," I said, watching as he swung a leg over and straddled the bike. His thighs hugged the sides of the bike and for a second, the image of him straddling me like that sent a shiver of excitement through my body. I quickly shook the image out of my mind, surprised at myself. I never had such wayward thoughts, at least not on a first date. I watched as he settled himself onto the bike, pulled his black helmet with black face shield onto his head and fasten it. He looked sexy as all get out. The helmet turned toward me and he gestured with his head. I approached a motorcycle and hesitantly straddled the back of the seat.
"Put your feet on the pedals," he instructed, his voice slightly muffled through the helmet. He grasped my right ankle and guided it onto the foot pedal. I glanced down to my left and did the same.
"Put on your helmet and strap it," came next.
I put the helmet on and nervously fastened the strap under my chin, making sure that the helmet was snug enough that it wouldn't come flying off. Then I slid on the pair of sunglasses he had given me. Okay, so no bugs in my eyes, but what about my mouth? Once that was done, I wasn't quite sure what to do with my hands. He seemed to read my mind.
"Wrap your arms around my waist," he directed.
He didn't wait for me to comply, but immediately reached around for my hands, placed them around his waist, and laughed. I could feel the rumble of his laughter as my breasts rested lightly against his back.
"Ready?"
I nodded, and then realizing he couldn't see me, I muttered a yes. I realized that he still couldn't hear me, so I spoke up and repeated it. My hands still wrapped around his waist, he pressed a small red button near the right handle and the bike rumbled to life beneath me. It wasn't as loud as I thought it would be, but I was startled by the vibration. My heartbeat accelerated. I couldn't believe it. I was going riding who knows w
here on the back of a motorcycle with a guy I barely knew. No, a guy that I didn't know at all. Luke Bradford, that was about it. On one hand, I was excited about the new adventure, as my girlfriends had said, but on the other, I was terrified.
Just as I was about ready to chicken out and tell him that I would meet him wherever he planned on taking me, he moved his left foot and the bike surged forward. I uttered a squeaking sound, tightened my clasp around his waist, and off we were.
"Relax!" he said, turning his head slightly to the left and speaking to me over a shoulder.
"Watch the road!" I shouted back.
Soon, we were winding our way through the streets of Boston. He didn't go super-fast, and I was grateful that we weren't out on the open road but on city streets. Still, on a bike, without the security of metal between me and the pavement or other vehicles, I felt extremely vulnerable. After the first couple of minutes, however, I did start to relax. It was kind of fun – thrilling actually. I felt the wind on my face, though grateful for the sunglasses that kept any possible bugs out of my eyes. I actually began to enjoy the ride. I kept my mouth closed, but did manage to loosen my grip around his waist just a little bit. He had no fat, but was lean and all muscle. My thighs hugged the side of the bike and his hips, much like I was riding a horse, which I was used to doing.
The buildings passed by in a blur and the bike rumbled beneath me as we passed cars, made several turns, and soon I instinctively got the hang of leaning my body weight in the direction he was turning. It was a lot like riding a horse, actually, and I found myself enjoying it immensely. Before long, he pulled into a parking lot, found a space, and turned the bike into it. Several moments later, the vibration stopped as he turned off the ignition.
"You get off first," he said.
I did, reaching my fingers up to unstrap the helmet as I did so. He followed immediately after, doing the same. Holding the helmet in one hand, his hair slightly mussed, he looked down at me with an expectant expression.
"What do you think?"
I smiled. “That was fun. I was nervous at first, because I've never written a motorcycle, but it's a lot like riding a horse, just not as fast."
"I suppose where you came from, riding a horse comes as naturally to you as walking."
I nodded. “That it does."
"Well, there you have it. This is your first time riding a motorcycle. I've never ridden a horse, so you're one up on me."
He placed the motorcycle helmets onto the hooks attached to the back of the seat and then locked them into place. Then, turning to me, he clasped my hand. "Ever had sushi?"
I shook my head. "Nope."
Well," he grinned. "Isn't this quite the day for firsts?"
He squeezed my hand as he led me toward the restaurant entrance, and I reveled for a moment over the warmth and strength of that hand. We walked into the restaurant, where he was greeted by a maître d' who appeared to know him. He gestured us to walk down a short hallway, and I followed, only to discover that he must have booked us a private room. The room wasn't anything like I expected. A low table, like a coffee table with short legs, rested on the floor in the middle of the room. It was surrounded by cushions. The walls of the room were paneled and almost would look like rice paper, so I gathered this was a traditional Japanese sushi bar. While I had never been in one personally, Becky had, and what I was seeing now was typical, at least as she described.
Luke gestured for me to take a seat on one of the cushions. I did, sitting cross-legged across the table from him, eyeing everything around me with interest. I was trying to remember every detail because I knew I would have to give a blow-by-blow to the girls either later on tonight or tomorrow, for sure. I was startled when a young woman entered the room wearing a traditional Japanese kimono. She even wore white socks and walked on what I could only call a pair of wooden slippers. I was even more startled when Luke spoke to her in Japanese. I watched him, my eyes widening in shock and surprise as he conversed easily with her, obviously placing an order for our food. After he finished, she offered him a slight bow and left the room. I continued to stare at him and he looked back at me and explained.
"I've been around a little bit," he said. "Actually, I lived in Japan for a year or so."
"I'm no expert, but that sounded pretty fluent to me," I said, impressed. "Do you speak any other languages?"
He nodded, flashing another smile at me from his place across the table. He had removed his jacket and placed it on the floor beside him. I wasn't sure about the material of his shirt, but it looked like silk or rayon. Whatever it was it was black, long-sleeved, and flowed with every move he made. Now instead of a motorcycle gang member, he looked like a pirate. It was a good thing the sleeves covered his tats, because that might have just pushed me over the edge.
"Russian, though I'm certainly not fluent, a bit of German, and, if pressed, a little bit of Farsi."
I stared, trying to wrap my brain around the fact that this guy, who dressed like a rebel and rode a Harley for crying out loud, but took advanced chemistry, spoke several languages. Who the hell was he? "Why?" He stared at me is if I had suddenly grown two heads.
"Why what?"
I shook my head. I was babbling like an idiot. "Why…how do you know so many languages? Why did you travel around so much?"
He waved a hand, as if dismissing the question. "I had to go where my parents went, didn't I? At least until I was old enough to go off to college."
"But what did your father do to take your family-"
My question was interrupted as the waitress, or whatever they were called in a Japanese restaurant, entered the private room bearing a tray full of sushi. She placed the tray on the table between us. I glanced over it, admiring the attractive presentation, but wasn't quite sure if I was going to enjoy eating raw fish. After asking if we needed anything else and pouring us each a cup of tea, the server left the room.
"Have you ever had sushi before?"
He had asked me that already, but I shook my head no while he pointed to several items on the platter.
"These roles are called Maki," he explained. "They're wrapped in seaweed and filled with vinegary rice and a variety of fillings. This one has crabmeat and cucumber.” He pointed to another. “This one has soft shell crab, cucumber, avocado, and crabmeat topped with Unagi.”
He continued to point out items on the tray, describing the difference between cone shaped offerings of what he called Maki or hand rolls, and the different types of Maki on the platter.
"Close your eyes," he instructed.
I wasn't sure about this, but I didn't want him to think I was a big chicken, so I did.
"This one's called a Samurai role," he said. "Take a bite."
Without opening my eyes I waited while he held one of the roles underneath my nose, close to my mouth. Was he going to feed me? I felt my stomach flutter again, but was distracted by a whiff of some wonderful aromas.
“Open.”
I took a bite, amazed at the flavors that the role evoked in my taste buds. I chewed, not too sure I liked the texture of the raw components, but nodded in appreciation. The rice tasted tart, but not unpleasantly so. "What was that one?"
"That one has tuna, cucumber, crabmeat topped with salmon, avocado, and Unagi,” he explained.
I opened my eyes and watched him place several roles of sushi on my plate. I tore my gaze away from his strong fingers and looked up at him. “What's Unagi?”
"Did you like it?" he asked, smiling.
I nodded. “Yes, it was delicious, but what is it?"
"Now don’t be alarmed, but Unagi is a Japanese word for a freshwater eel," he explained. “It's a common ingredient in a variety of Japanese cooking, not just sushi.”
I felt a brief flash of horror. I was eating eel? Then I realized that it had tasted good. We repeated the process several times, me closing my eyes and him feeding me different rolls. I guessed at the ingredients, only successful in naming a few that I recognized. We pla
yed this game until roughly half the platter was gone. Finally, I felt so stuffed that I didn't think I could eat one more bite. It was quiet in the restaurant, and I wondered why, considering that it was a Saturday evening. Then again, a private room meant privacy and quiet.
"Close your eyes."
I shook my head. "Luke, I honestly don't think I can eat one more bite."
"Come on, one more time," he urged.
Although I wasn't sure what he was going to feed me next, I did as he requested. I closed my eyes and waited. I heard him move the tray and then our teacups. I waited, anticipating the aroma of some other delicious concoction beneath my nose, and as soon as I sensed his hand near my mouth, I opened my lips slightly, prepared to take a bite. But it wasn't sushi that I tasted, but his lips. He was kissing me. With my eyes still closed, I reveled in the kiss, taking my time to appreciate every sensation that his warm lips brought me.
I groaned when his tongue slowly slipped inside my mouth, feeling warm sensations surge through me. Suddenly, his arms were around my shoulders and he was pulling me closer toward him. I opened my eyes and saw that he was half leaning over the table, urging me to do the same. He had moved the food and drinks from the table to the floor, and before I knew it, he was half reclining on the table, pulling me on top of it beside him.
"Luke!” I gasped. “We’re in a restaurant-"
He laughed, the sound rumbling low in his throat as he continued to kiss me. I couldn't believe it. We were in a sushi restaurant and making out on top of the table. Wouldn’t my friends just die if they knew what I was doing? Me! I half expected the table to collapse beneath our weight, but it didn't.
Before I knew it, his hands were stroking my back, cupping my buttocks, and then moving around toward my waistline. Of their own volition, my hands wrapped around his shoulders, and I realized the fabric he wore was definitely silk. Several seconds later, one of his warm hands enveloped my right breast and my breathing grew harsh and erratic. He squeezed and gently kneaded it, passing his thumb over my bra. My nipple responded in spite of the bra and ached for his touch. The kiss deepened, his tongue entangling with mine, and I was giving as well as I got. I didn’t know what came over me, and I don't know what it was about Luke that encouraged me to break the rules and step beyond my comfort zone and the boundaries I had always set for myself, but there was something about him…
Fantasy Boyfriend (A Tattooed Bad Boy Romance) Page 4
