Charmed by Joanne Schwehm

Author:Joanne Schwehm [Schwehm, Joanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: EverAfter Romance
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

~ Gretchen ~

“Thank you, Mason. You didn’t have to go to all of this trouble.”

The way he smiled made my heart flutter. Yes, Mason McDermott was one of the good guys, one that I could easily fall for. Once I was all suited up, Mason slid on his black helmet.

Watching Mason straddle the bike was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. His leather jacket cinched at his waist, making his shoulders look even broader. He held out his hand, which I gladly took.

“Swing your leg over and hold me around my waist. Don’t let go, lean when I do, and have fun.” He shot me a quick smile before revving the bike.

Holy shit, this was amazing. The way I held him close, and my thighs touched his as the powerful machine vibrated between my legs, it made me sad we hadn’t ridden this bike before.

We definitely had an uncanny connection. Yes, of course, we were friends, but it seemed like more than that. My heart raced faster when he was in the same room, my mind was content when we were near each other, and my libido spiked anytime our skin touched.

My lady parts ached for Mason, but my brain was my vagina blocker. A woman would have to be dead and buried not to get turned on by his touch, but damn, Scott had screwed me up more than I’d realized. Not understanding how someone could drop so quickly the person they’d been with for three years had messed with my head.

Mason rounded corners smoothly, but when we merged onto the highway, my nerves kicked up a notch. The faster we went, the tighter my grip became. I was confident I’d crack a rib or two of his by the time we reached our destination.

Apparently, driving between vehicles was allowed in California, because several bikers were doing it. Loud rumbling caught my attention as I looked to my left and saw what I’d like to refer to as a biker gang. All I could picture was Sons of Anarchy. When one of them caught me gawking, he nodded and flashed me a smile. Definitely not Charlie Hunnam, unless he’d lost a few teeth since the last show aired. Clearing my thoughts of hot biker dudes from fictional TV shows, I concentrated on the hot biker my arms were wrapped around.

We exited, and Mason began to slow down right before he kicked it up a notch. Not realizing I’d closed my eyes, imagine my surprise when I opened them and we were on Hollywood Boulevard. Yes, what I knew as Mann’s Chinese Theatre was right in front of us.

Mason righted the bike and helped me off before dismounting it himself. Excitement ran through my veins when I realized why he’d stopped here. Marilyn’s handprints.

I squealed and handed him my helmet to rush to one of my dream items.

“Look, Mason. They fit.” I was on my knees, my hands where Marilyn had left her imprints. “Take a picture. I need to tweet this one and put it on Instagram.

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