More Than This

by Shannyn Schroeder

  “At the same time?”

  “Ha-ha. No. They’re the next two things I want to accomplish.”

  He’d seen the list. She was still playing pedestrian. She didn’t want his help with stripping naked and having a wild orgasm. “What about the second half of the list?”

  Her cheeks grew pink. “What about it?”

  He wagged his eyebrows at her. “I can help with all of it.”

  Her laugh was a nervous flutter. “No, you can’t.”

  “I’m sure I can.”

  She shifted in her seat. “You can’t be my summer romance, and the other stuff goes along with it.”

  “Why can’t I be your summer romance? We’re off to a good start.”

  She bit her lower lip, her habit as she considered options. She wouldn’t agree that easily.

  “You can’t be my summer romance. A summer romance ends in the fall. I don’t want to not see you anymore.” She shoved up from the couch and flicked off the TV in the middle of Ferris singing “Twist and Shout.”

  “When you start a relationship, you don’t give it a deadline. You let it play out.”

  “I don’t want to lose this.” She fidgeted and bit her lip before continuing. “I don’t have many people I consider real friends. You snuck into a spot and it’ll be ruined if we get involved romantically.”

  Was this Quinn letting him down easy, or did she really believe this? He grasped her hand. The simple gesture brought a smile to her face. So he was back to helping her finish her list, including finding her a date who wasn’t a loser, but who couldn’t compete with him. “A motorcycle, huh?”

  “And a karaoke bar.”

  He stood, leaned over, and kissed her cheek. “I’ll figure it out and call you tomorrow.”

  After he left, Ryan mulled over the entire problem. He didn’t see an easy fix for the mess he’d gotten himself into. He wanted Quinn. She had a valid point about their friendship. Unlike her, he was more of a gambler.

  “Hey, Griff, it’s me. I need a favor,” Ryan said into his cell phone as he drove.

  “Since you’re calling from your cell, I assume you don’t need bail money.”

  “I haven’t needed that since my misspent youth. I need your motorcycle.”

  “I’m not giving you my bike. You’ve never driven one.”

  “I mean, I need you to give someone a ride.”

  “If this someone is a she, I could probably arrange it.”

  Ryan kept his sigh from being audible. “Yes, she is a woman. All I need you to do is give her a ride on your motorcycle. Fully clothed.”

  Griffin’s laugh burst over the earpiece. “Are you sure you’re not a lawyer? You’re always looking to close the loopholes. How hot is she?”

  “Don’t worry about how hot she is.” Quinn wasn’t Griffin’s type, if he had one. Ryan was pretty sure anyway. “I’m trying to help a friend.”

  “A friend. Sure. I’m booked for the next day or so, but I think I can squeeze in a motorcycle ride.”

  “Call me later so we can set up the ride. Thanks, Griff.”

  “Anything to impress a lady, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Ryan hung up. He wanted to do more than simply impress Quinn. Ryan needed time to think and plan a list of his own. Quinn would have her adventures. He’d even help her look for a summer romance. If he could draw out the completion of the list through the end of the summer without Quinn falling for some asshole, she’d have to give him a chance. Summer vacation was less than three months. Quinn hadn’t had any luck with her dates so far.

  Odds were in his favor.

  CHAPTER 6

  As the last bell rang ending the last regularly scheduled class of the year, Quinn slid the remaining essays she had to grade into her bag. She’d have to come back for the rest of the week for meetings and in-services and to input her grades, but for all practical purposes, the school year was over. She sighed, hooked her bag on her shoulder, and lifted her vase of daisies. The flowers still brought a smile to her face. They sat in the passenger seat on her ride home.

  As she pulled into her parking lot, her phone rang. The caller ID read, “Ryan’s Cell.” When did his number make it into my Contacts? She answered while easing into her usual spot. “Hello.”

  “Hey, Quinn. It’s Ryan. Are you home yet?”

  “I just pulled in.” She turned off the ignition.

  “Good. Your motorcycle is waiting out front.”

  “Huh?” she asked, mid-reach, trying to grab the vase.

  “You said you needed a motorcycle, so I got you one.”

  “I don’t know how to drive a motorcycle.”

  “This one comes with a driver. Griffin’s out front.”

  “Uh . . .” Her thoughts blurred.

  “Hurry up and take your ride. I’ll call you later.”

  He clicked off before she could question or thank him. She fumbled for her keys, forgetting her bagful of essays and her daisies.

  She turned the corner of her building and stopped. A leather-clad man leaned against a huge motorcycle. If she had to guess, it was a Harley Davidson. The man’s eyes hid behind amber wraparound shades, but she felt his assessing gaze. His black hair ruffled in the breeze, and his five-o’clock shadow looked permanent.

  A smile cracked across his chiseled face and lines bracketed his mouth. Figures Ryan would know a gorgeous, motorcycle-riding bad boy. Too bad Indy’s not here. She’d be drooling.

  He stepped forward. “Quinn?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Ryan’s friend. He asked me to give you a ride.” He handed her a leather jacket. “Put this on. When you’re riding behind me, either hold on to my waist or these handles next to your seat.”

  She slid into the jacket. It fit perfectly. What kind of guy carried a woman’s leather jacket with him? Did he have a variety of sizes at home?

  “Any questions?”

  She squinted as she looked up at him. “How safe is this?”

  His chuckle didn’t make her feel any better, but he pushed a helmet on her head. He climbed on the motorcycle and extended his hand to help her board.

  I can do this. She stepped forward and took his hand. The leather surrounding her creaked. She straddled the black seat and gripped the handles beside it, grateful she wore jeans. Her back stiffened as she tried to stop her toes from tapping in her sensible shoes.

  The driver called over his shoulder, “You need to relax a little. This won’t hurt.” He started the engine and the vibration of her entire body caused her eyes to widen.

  Her knuckles whitened on the handles, and she clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from rattling. Motorcycle man reached behind him and patted her thigh. The simple, friendly gesture had her rethinking. She didn’t know this man. What if he was some nut job taking her somewhere to kill her? What if he was a maniac who planned on scaring her spitless by weaving in between cars on the highway? She hadn’t given him any parameters. She didn’t even know how long this ride was supposed to last. She had essays to grade.

  The motorcycle eased forward a few inches. He was Ryan’s friend, so he should be safe. Quinn released the handles and closed the gap between her body and the driver’s. Her arms circled his waist and she felt another chuckle rumble his diaphragm.

  They sailed out into traffic with her eyes closed. The vibration of the motor under her proved to be calming. She slowly opened her eyes and the city whizzed by. Everyday sights became smudges of watercolor. They zoomed up the onramp to the Kennedy expressway. Her heart sped and her stomach rose to her throat.

  It was too early for rush hour traffic, so the lanes were pretty clear. The sun warmed her arms as the black leather absorbed the heat, but the wind cooled her interlocked fingers. She wiggled her fingers to restore circulation.

  The abdomen she held was solid. She imagined it naked. The thought made her realize his hips were nestled between her thighs. She took a slow, even breath. No wonder so many people think motorcycles are sexy.

 
At the next exit, they rolled down the ramp and back onto the streets of Chicago. The crowded avenues slowed the motorcycle’s pace.

  A bead of sweat trickled down her back and her head itched. She wished she were brave enough to ride without a helmet. It must be a fabulous feeling with the sun on your face and wind whipping your hair. That would be freedom. Or total stupidity, her sensible side answered.

  The motorcycle turned the corner in front of her building and her heart sank. It was like watching a roller coaster edge up the last hill. Like a five-year-old, she wanted to scream, “Again! Again!” Instead, she waited for him to cut the engine.

  When the motor stilled, Quinn inched her butt back, pulling her body away from motorcycle man. Twisting his torso, he extended a hand to help her dismount. She tugged the helmet from her head. Her hair stuck to her scalp, and running fingers through it only coated them in sweat.

  She handed the driver the helmet. “Thank you for a great ride.” “No problem.” He started the engine.

  “Wait. Your jacket,” she called as she unzipped the leather.

  “It’s yours. Ryan sent it.” He revved the engine and sped away with the helmet strapped to the rear seat.

  Quinn stood for a moment and watched as he turned into a speck far down the street. Nerves hummed throughout her body. Her leg muscles tingled. Like spasms after an orgasm. She took an unsure step toward her building. Her weak but excited legs held her up, so she continued.

  In her loft, she slid the leather jacket off and folded it over her arm. The scent enveloped her and she inhaled. Way better than new-car smell. She laid the jacket on the arm of the couch and picked up the phone.

  She needed to share her excitement with someone. Although Ryan deserved a thank you for the ride and the jacket, Quinn dialed Kate’s number. She knew it had been Kate who added the motorcycle to the list.

  “Hello?” The yelling and banging in the background nearly drowned Kate’s voice.

  “Hi, Kate. It’s Quinn. What’s going on?”

  “Hey. Nothing. Hold on.” Shuffling ensued and Quinn knew Kate took the phone into hiding. “Sorry. The kids decided to do a last day of school parade with every noisemaker they could find.”

  “Sounds like fun.” Not.

  “Just wait. You’ll get your turn eventually. What’s going on with you? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

  “Oh my gosh. You should’ve told me how great motorcycles are.” Kate laughed. “Who did you find to give you a ride?”

  “One of Ryan’s friends. Now I know why you were so eager to cut class in college to ride around with what’s-his-name.”

  “His name was Derek. He introduced me to many, many wonderful things.” Her voice floated away for a moment. “But your first motorcycle ride . . . You never forget it.”

  Quinn stretched out on the couch. “God, it was almost as good as sex.”

  “Now that’s something you should try.”

  Quinn rolled her eyes. “I think I have. Maybe not often enough, but—”

  “I mean sex on the motorcycle, engine running. So hot.”

  “Listen to you. You’re a mother of three small kids. You’re not supposed to talk like that,” Quinn teased.

  “They can’t hear me and I’m not dead. Like I said, Derek introduced me to wonderful things.”

  Quinn sighed. “Before you get lost in reminiscing about Derek, I need to let you go. I have to get my bag and stuff from my car. I think it’s safe since the feeling in my legs has returned to normal.”

  “I need to check on the kids anyway.”

  “Thanks for putting it on the list.”

  “No problem. Thanks for the quick trip down memory lane.”

  Quinn disconnected and went to her car to grab her bag and rescue her daisies from suffocating in the heat.

  She settled back on her couch and took note of the many ways Ryan had insinuated himself into her life—daisies on her table, leather jacket on her couch, postcard stuck to her fridge. He was suddenly everywhere. Her cell phone rang. Ryan. As if she needed to punctuate her previous thought.

  “Hi, Ryan.”

  “How was the ride?”

  “Fabulous. Exciting and scary and . . . I don’t know, hard to explain.” She suddenly felt fifteen babbling to her first boyfriend. “Thank you for arranging it. The jacket, however, is too much.”

  “Does it fit?”

  “Perfectly, but that’s not the point.”

  “Sure it is. It’s a memento. Are you free for dinner?”

  “Yeah. Where do you want to go?”

  “That was easy.”

  “I have a huge stack of papers to grade, but I’m too pumped to even think about them. I need to wind down first. Plus, I owe you for ditching last week.”

  “Excellent. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  I’ll be ready? What was she thinking? She needed to shower and dress. Her legs muscles may have stopped tingling, but her whole system hummed.

  Ryan had a hard time waiting the entire half hour. Quinn sounded so excited; he wanted to see her face.

  She buzzed him up without answering the intercom. Her door stood wide open. He’d have to talk to her about the unsafe nature of doing that. He went in and closed the door behind him.

  “I’ll be down in a minute,” her voice floated down to him.

  He surveyed the living room. His daisies sat on the table and the leather jacket lay on the couch.

  “Are shorts okay?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Can I wear shorts, or do I need something less casual?”

  “Shorts are fine.” He enjoyed seeing her bare legs and hoped sandals would accompany them.

  Moments later, she flew down the stairs wearing black shorts and a tank. She wore no makeup, but the smile brightened and colored her face.

  “So tell me about your ride.”

  “I don’t know if I can describe it.” She paused and closed her eyes. A hand went to her heart. “I was scared. Borderline terrified.”

  Ryan moved forward and touched her arm. “I told Griffin to take it easy. What did he do?”

  “Nothing. Really nothing. He didn’t even speak much. It was . . . I don’t know.” She spread her arms in front of her and stared at the empty space. “This big hulk of a machine I had no control over and I had to trust a guy I’d never met.”

  Her eyes rose to meet his. “It was fabulous. The noise, the vibration, everything blurring by. It—” She stopped and closed the gap between them.

  Her hands reached his shoulders and she brought her face to meet his. Her lips grew hot on his mouth. Her fingers curled into his shirt to pull him closer as her tongue darted into his mouth.

  His right hand splayed on her lower back, pressing her close, as their tongues danced. His left hand tugged at the hem of her shirt. He needed to feel her hot skin. As his fingers brushed the bare skin above her hip, she nibbled on his lower lip. Blood pounded and his brain shorted out.

  Then she stepped away.

  He stared at her. “Wow.”

  “Yeah, that sums up my ride. Thanks for arranging it.” She turned to the front closet. “What are you in the mood for?” As she asked, she bent over to reach for something in the closet.

  His dick twitched to answer what he was in the mood for. He was ready to take her right there on the floor. Instead, he answered, “Pizza?”

  “Sounds good.” She straightened and slid her feet into a pair of strappy sandals. Her toes poked out in vibrant pink, screaming for attention.

  He rushed past her and held the door open, hoping she wouldn’t notice his hard-on. He’d been friends with plenty of women, some of whom he’d even slept with. He’d never walked around sporting wood as often as he did with Quinn. It wasn’t natural. He needed to get laid. In the meantime, he’d have a nice dinner out and enjoy Quinn’s company. Unless, of course, he could convince her they could enjoy more of each other’s company naked.
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  Quinn sat in the car and fidgeted like a nervous ball of energy, so unlike the quiet, always-composed Quinn he usually saw. When he pulled up to Sorrentino’s Italian restaurant, she popped the door open and jumped out before he even had his keys out of the ignition.

  “Something wrong?” he asked as he closed his door.

  She turned and clutched the strap of her purse. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. We agreed we’d be better as friends, and I don’t want to screw it up by sending mixed signals.”

  So much for convincing her to get naked.

  “I don’t know what came over me. I needed to explain the physical high of the motorcycle ride and it just . . .” She grew more flustered with each word. “And you were so nice to arrange the ride and . . .”

  “No problem. You caught me a little off guard, but there are worse things to have happen than a kiss.” He put his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. The fruity smell of her hair swirled around him. “Don’t let it happen again.”

  She held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  Her earnestness disappointed him.

  The host showed them to a table immediately. Ryan pulled out a chair for Quinn and sat across from her. The room was dimly lit. Candlelight flickered against her face, making her look sexier.

  “Tell me about motorcycle man.”

  “Who?”

  “Griffin. Is this the same guy you gave Indy’s card to?”

  “Yeah, he’s an old friend.”

  She shrugged. “He didn’t seem too friendly. He said all of ten words to me.”

  Ryan laughed. “I told him to do nothing but give you a ride on the motorcycle.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s not your type.”

  She tilted her head and wrinkled her brow. “How do you know what type I want?”

  “You’re the one who said you wanted me to be your wingman. Griffin’s not looking for a romance, summer or otherwise. He’s a great guy, but he likes to spread the love.”

  “You’re right. He’s probably not my type. I definitely don’t need a charming bad boy.” She spread her napkin on her lap as the waiter arrived with a bottle of wine. “Have you known him long?”