LILA

“Get on.”

Ryan’s voice was flat, almost bored, the same tone he’d used when he told me to get out of the storage bathroom. He still wasn’t looking at me. One hand rested on the throttle, the other held the second helmet out like it was an afterthought.

I stood frozen beside the bike, the short black dress already riding higher on my thighs from the faint breeze. The cool air kissed the bare lips of my pussy every time the fabric shifted. My nipples ached against the thin stretch material, still tight from the memory of his fist sliding over that thick, wet cock while he moaned my...