Page 84 of Embriagado

Shit, he’s hot.

“How else am I supposed to get wherever we’re going?” Finally tearing my eyes from his sexy ass, I stared at him.

“Don’t worry, I got something for you.” He nudged his chin up.

I glanced in the direction he pointed to see a rusty bicycle leaning against the wall.

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Not at all.”

I glared at him. “What do you take me for, some schoolboy? Who the fuck rides bicycles?”

“Many people.”

“Many lame people.”

“So it’s perfect.” He grinned.

“Hey—”

“And if you ask me, it’s a better option than the bus.”

I rolled my eyes. “Says the guy on the Ducati. Just give me a ride.”

“No.”

I gaped at him. “Why not?”

“I don’t want your germs on my motorcycle. Besides—” His eyes darted down my body. “—last time, I nearly cut off your dick with how you kept rubbing it against me.”

My cheeks heated up with the memory, and I swallowed hard.

“F-fine.” I scratched the back of my neck. “I’ll take the fucking bicycle.”

Walking over to it, I grabbed the handles and tested the brakes. In response, the piece of junk squeaked, and I grimaced.

“You sure it’s safe—hey!” I shouted after the bastard hit the gas, and his motorcycle roared through the empty parking lot before he drove off. “Fucking asshole!” I got my ass on the dumb bicycle and began pedaling, trying to catch up, although I knew it was impossible. Surprisingly, Ariyan was kind enough to wait for me, yet every time I nearly caught up, he drove ahead, forcing me to increase my pace until my lungs burned and my quads ached. I had no clue how long I chased him on that shitty bicycle around the city, but the motherfucker sure enjoyed it. How did I know? We’d just gone through the same street for the third time, only I couldn’t complain, not when I could hardly breathe. Sure, I boxed and jogged, but who the hell knew cycling was this hard? Not to mention, the bike he gave me only had one gear and was probably a hundred years old.

“You seem a bit out of breath,” Ariyan snarled after I finally caught up to him.

At this point, I was dripping with sweat, enough for my T-shirt to change color.

“F-fucking—” I paused for air. “—psycho.”

“Regretting some life choices?”

I forced a smile. “F-fuck no.”

“You will soon enough.”

He then got off his bike, and I realized we’d reached our destination.

Pushing my damp hair away from my sweaty brows, I looked up. While I could tell we were on one of the harbor’s docks, I had no clue where, exactly. If anything, the place seemed abandoned, with barbed-wire fences and “No Entry” signs hanging everywhere.

Fuck.

My body turned cold because, from the looks of it, he really did take me to an isolated place to kill me. Quickly getting off the bicycle, I left it against the fence, fists already clenched and my body on alert.