Two Wheels


"Chicken?" Jack said with a grin.

"Yes, and not too chicken to admit it!" Claire said. "Some things are just too dangerous to be sensible, Jack."

"Oh, come on." He held the spare helmet out toward her. "I've been riding for years, and I've never had an accident. Never even come close. And it'll be a hell of a lot faster than a cab."

Reluctantly, Claire let him put the helmet in her hands. "I've never been on a motorcycle," she admitted. "What if I – pull you off, or knock you over, or something?"

Jack laughed. "Not going to happen," he said. "I'll go nice and slow. Just hold on to me, and let me worry about everything else."

Claire slipped the helmet over her head as he took her bag and stowed it with his in the bike's panniers. "At least I'm not wearing a skirt today," she said resignedly. "Is this on right?"

"Perfect." Jack took her hand and drew her closer to the bike. "It'll be fine, Claire. It'll even be fun!"

"I really, really doubt that," Claire said, settling herself behind him on the bike. She wrapped her arms around him tightly. The sudden roar of the engine as he gunned the throttle made her jump, heart racing. "If you kill us both, Jack, I swear to god, I'll – take some kind of really inventive revenge in the afterlife!"

She felt, rather than heard him chuckle, and then he sent the bike forward and they pulled out of the parking garage.

As Jack pulled out into the traffic Claire started to panic. The cars were too close and too big and too fast, every passing vehicle seeming to come right at them. "Stop!" she cried to Jack, but either he ignored her or, more likely, he couldn't hear her over the noise of the bike and the traffic and the helmets between them. She clutched his jacket and closed her eyes tightly, feeling the pulsation of the engine through her whole body.

Despite her expectations, none of the cars hit them. After a few minutes Claire began to get used to the feeling of vulnerability that came from having nothing between her and the rest of the traffic. She hung on to Jack, pressed close against his back, and tried to calm her breathing. Eventually she managed to open her eyes, only to close them again as a giant truck zoomed toward them.

As it passed them at a safe distance, Claire decided that the only way this could be described as 'fine' was if she kept her eyes closed the whole way. With her eyes closed, the shifting balance of the bike as Jack maneuvered through the traffic was more like a fairground ride. With them open, it felt like a terrifying trip to early death. She squeezed her eyes shut and rested her head against Jack's shoulder, trying to enjoy rather than dread the way he eased the motorcycle through the traffic and around the corners.

She could certainly enjoy having her arms wrapped so tightly around him, feeling his chest rise and fall with his breathing. Her legs were pressed against his, thigh to ankle, and that was something else she could enjoy. Every change in their course made her shift move against him, a tiny friction that she began to be increasingly aware of as the ride progressed. Beneath her, the engine of the bike throbbed, a low rumble that travelled up her legs and through the seat beneath her. As Jack took them around a corner Claire gasped, the noise loud inside her helmet, her weight shifting again the seat. Then they were upright again, and she was piercingly aware of the engine's vibration, a constant rhythm that pulsed against her. She pressed closer to Jack, breath coming faster, as warmth began to build within her.

When the bike stopped in the alley by Jack's apartment building she sighed in disappointment. Jack killed the engine and the sudden cessation brought a half-formed protest to her lips.

"Told you it was perfectly safe," Jack said, taking off his helmet.

Claire nodded, not trusting her voice, as she unfastened her helmet and pulled it off. She clambered off the motorcycle and staggered as her trembling knees didn't quite support her.

Jack grabbed her arm and steadied her. "You're trembling!" he said. "I didn't – I didn't think you'd be so scared, I wouldn't have insisted – "

He looked remorseful and Claire shook her head quickly. "Not scared," she said huskily. "Not scared. But if that ride had gone on any longer I would have slid right off the back of the bike."

Jack looked down at her and began to smile. Claire guessed he could see how flushed her cheeks were, how dark her eyes.

"Well, well," he said softly. With a quick glance around to make sure they were unobserved he pushed her back into the shadows and slipped his hand between her legs.

"My, you are worked up, aren't you?" he murmured, smirking.

"Don't – tease me – Jack – you bastard – god!" Claire clutched his shoulders as her knees trembled. The pressure of his fingers against her already sensitized flesh sent a pulse of sensation through her so strong it was almost painful.

"Should we go for another spin around the block?" he asked, ignoring Claire's instructions not to tease her. She moaned as her hips began to rock involuntarily, seeking pressure, seeking friction, seeking some kind of release from the tension racketing tighter and tighter inside her.

She looked up and met Jack's eyes. His smile was smug but his pupils were very wide and his breathing ragged.

"Please…" she whispered, thrusting against his hand in a faster and faster rhythm. "Please … I … need … "

"Need this?" he murmured, increasing the pressure of his fingers against the seam of her jeans. Claire bit her lip to stifle a moan and then buried her face against his jacket.

"God yes," she babbled against the leather, "god yes, yes."

She couldn't have held still or pulled away if her life had depended on it, her whole consciousness concentrated down to the smell of Jack's neck as she pressed her sweaty face against it, the feel of his shoulders beneath her hands as she clung to him, and the delicious, excruciating movement of his hand against her.

"Look at me," Jack urged. "Look at me."

Claire lifted her head and met his gaze. The hunger she saw in his face sent a wave of heat through her. Jack covered her mouth with his own, his tongue against her lips keeping the same steady rhythm as his fingers. Claire heard herself cry out, somewhere far away, the sound swallowed by his mouth, and then it all came together inside her in one tight ball of need that exploded with a violence that sent shockwaves through her whole body.

Jack held her up as she wilted against him, panting for breath.

"I should have got you on that bike months ago," he said hoarsely. "Where shall I take you now?"

"Your bedroom," Claire said. "Because I think you've got about a minute and half to get me there before I throw you down and take you on the street."

His eyes dilated black and she felt him jerk against her. "That's appealing," he said.

"But uncomfortable," Claire said. She pulled away from him and grabbed his hand. "Seventy seconds, now. Better hustle."

He followed her with alacrity.