The Ride

If I hadn’t been so scared, I would’ve enjoyed the ride.

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It was so romantic and exciting, with towering, twinkling skyscrapers on both sides of the harbor, a warm humid breeze blowing in my face, and the thrilling, pulse-pounding gallop of the speedboat.

Evon turned his head toward me, as if to ask if I was okay. It was too loud and windy to talk, so I smiled and nodded.

He winked. My heart stopped, my stomach dropped, and my insides somersaulted.
My eyes teared up again in joy. Evon was so heartbreakingly beautiful. I couldn’t look away. Even in semidarkness, I could see his well-shaped head, his dark hair blowing in the wind, his aggressive profile, and his muscular forearm on the steering wheel of the speedboat. He seemed to know where he was going as we went farther and farther away from the city, until I could no longer see the neon lights. The moon and stars were bright, casting a glassy reflection on the shimmering water.

We drove at breakneck speed for about an hour. As the boat slowed, I could make out land a short distance away. Evon weaved the boat in and out of several channels before we finally came to a stop at a rickety wooden dock. We climbed out of the boat silently.

Evon signaled me to follow him quietly along a narrow path, with towering trees on both sides. He took out a small flashlight to illuminate our way. We were so deep under the canopy of thick trees that I could not see the sky. The trees blocked the moonlight so completely it was pitch-black. I had to put out my hand to hold on to Evon as I tripped over a rock. As soon as my fingertips touched his back, my hand came alive, shooting waves of arousal all the way to my toes. I moaned.

“Are you okay?” Evon inquired with concern.

“Yes, just horny,” I said irritably. He chuckled. The jerk probably was patting himself on the back for his effect on women.

 

From Thousand-Year-Old Dream: Out of Ashes

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