Midwives On Call At Christmas. Fiona McArthur
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Almost enthusiastic. Her voice held a hint of indulgence. ‘You’ll be wanting to parachute next.’
‘I haven’t ruled it out in the far distant future.’
She looked at him and he was smiling but whether he was teasing or serious she couldn’t work out. What she could read made her cheeks feel hot. She almost wished he didn’t look at her like that because it was going to be incredibly hard some time in the definite future when the feeling it gave her was lost.
But then her sensible side, the one that said she would survive no matter what, decided that being with Simon was like parachuting—the rush was incredible but the reality was the ground waiting for you. But it didn’t mean you shouldn’t enjoy the ride. This would never last but it was wonderful while it did and from now on she was going to take what was on offer with open arms.
On Saturday Simon was waiting for her when she returned from an unscheduled home visit. One of her caseload ladies was having breastfeeding problems so Tara had sat with her for the last feed until mum and baby were back in sync.
She glanced at her watch. ‘Do we still have time before sunset? Or do you want to wait until tomorrow afternoon?’
‘I’ve been waiting all day to hang off the back of your bike.’ The words were jaunty but the unease was not quite hidden on Simon’s face and belied his statement as he picked up his backpack.
She had to smile at that. ‘Liar.’ She watched him slide his arms into the shoulder straps and hoist the pack onto his back in one adroitly muscular movement. Dragged her eyes away. ‘What’s in the bag?’
‘Never you mind. You worry about me and I’ll worry about the bag.’
Oh, she was worried about him all right. ‘Sounds intriguing. You’ll have to wait while I change.’ She glanced at his long jeans and solid shoes and nodded approval. ‘I don’t ride in shorts either.’
‘Tell me you come in leather.’ A wicked wink suggested he was fantasising and hoping she’d come to the party.
‘I can do.’ She raised her brows suggestively, playing along with him, and couldn’t believe how much fun this stuff was. ‘But normally only for long trips.’ She tossed over her shoulder, ‘You’ll just have to wait and see.’
Simon watched her scoot along the hallway and despite his misgivings about actually being a pillion passenger on a motorbike he had the feeling Tara would be worth waiting for. Ten agonising minutes later he wasn’t disappointed. Sweet mother!
Tara’s long sexy legs were encased in skin-tight, dull black leather trousers and high black boots. The material’s softness curved around the cutest tight little butt, and his fingers curled in his pockets. Untucked, she wore a white shirt with a plunging neckline and a short, black, sleeveless leather vest was loosely laced over the top. Yep, that completed the outfit, and he had to jam his hands into his pockets. Now he really couldn’t wait to get on her bike.
She looked like something out of a Hell’s Angels fantasy world and he was glad they were going into the country and not on the main road. He was man enough to prefer to have her to himself like this and couldn’t wait to have the excuse to hold her around her waist and snuggle up against her. Must have a latent dominatrix fantasy he hadn’t known about and he grinned to himself as he followed her outside and around to the carport.
She pulled the cover off the bike and sat astride as she wiggled it backwards. No, she wouldn’t let him help pull it out and face it the right way, so he did the next best thing and just stood there and enjoyed the show. He decided that Tara was a strong little thing, and the thought made him even hotter, in a non-weather-related way.
Tara set about checking everything was right and finally gave him the nod. She handed him her helmet and pulled her spare on.
‘So have you ever been on a bike before?’
‘No.’
‘Okay. So hold on loosely around my waist, tighter on the corners. Sit up straight. Try and lean gently into the corners in the same direction as I do. If you find the corners too hard just don’t lean the opposite way.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Good. Remember that. I’m the captain.’
The captain. He kept his tongue firmly between his teeth when he really wanted to say, Aye, Aye, and grin at her. Or kiss her. Definitely the last. He’d been waiting all day for this moment, the sliding on behind her thing, of course, not the actual motorbike thing, and as he climbed on and shifted in until his thighs were up against her leather-clad buttocks it was as exciting as he’d imagined. See. He could be adventurous.
Initially she took off slowly and rode along the back streets of the lake and Simon found that holding onto Tara while the big bike vibrated strongly beneath them was a very pleasant experience. He’d decided that worrying about accidents wouldn’t help at all so tried conscientiously to focus on the other, more positive things.
Lots of delightful sensory input to distract him, especially the really tactile stuff, like Tara’s waist was the perfect width beneath his hands, and he tried not to dwell on the fact if he reached up and spread his fingers he could span her rib cage and even brush the undersides of her breasts. Felt the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans and dragged his mind away from that scenario because it was just too uncomfortable.
Her buttocks pressed against him as they sped up an incline and if he tightened his arms his chest could stretch forward and lean into her back any time he chose.
‘You okay?’ She turned her head a little and he heard the words. She sounded strained but it was probably the wind snatching them away.
‘Fine,’ he shouted back. Conversation was impossible and he didn’t even try. They’d picked up speed and were climbing a narrow tarred road that curved around the mountain towards the lookout. Heavy forest growth hid the thousands of cicadas that were humming as a quiet thrum under the rumble of the engine as they rode along, and every now and then a circling eagle would soar into view.
The wind rushed past and he enjoyed the sensation of the breeze along his arms. Even got some of the reasons Tara enjoyed the freedom of riding her bike so much.
They came to a long curve in the road and he’d learnt to lean the same way as she did and felt a little of the thrill of adrenalin she’d talked about. He could imagine it would be even better if he was the one steering and Tara was holding on—maybe something for the future to consider.
By the time they arrived Simon was so comfortable behind Tara he’d moved on to enjoying the view but couldn’t help appreciate how comfortable and secure he felt in such a short time—testament to her skill and confidence. It still made him shake his head how she had so much control over the powerful bike considering it was bigger than she was for a start and had a whole lot more horsepower than she did.
He got off first and she propped it sideways on its stand. Flipped her helmet open to talk as she fiddled with the chin strap. ‘Enjoy that?’
‘Yes, thank you. I actually did. And I’m very impressed with your riding skill.’ His helmet was off and he stepped forward to assist her. She let him, just—irritable little thing. She obviously didn’t like asking for aid so it was nice she was learning to take