He stands up and runs a hand through his slightly messy bleached blond hair. The movement reveals glimpses of toned stomach beneath his black metalica t-shirt as he adjusts the fabric. Anna stood up and threw her purple backpack over her one shoulder. "Ready to go?" he asks, already moving toward the library exit without waiting for an answer. His long strides eat up the distance quickly, clearly impatient to get home and away from prying eyes in the school corridors. Anna quickly rushed to follow him, throwing away the take-away coffee cups as she passed the bin next to the entrance. Once outside the fading evening light, he immediately reaches for Anna's hand again without hesitation this time and they walk hand in hand, through the empty school halls to the parking lot.
Zack's motorcycle sits parked near the edge of the nearly empty parking lot, a sleek black machine that rumbles to life with a twist of his wrist. The engine purrs between them as he swings his leg over the seat, patting the spot behind him for Anna to climb aboard. "I hope you don't mind riding without a helmet," he says with a grin. "It is more fun this way. Besides, it is only a fifteen-minute ride." Anna gets on the motorcycle behind Zack. He revs the engine again, the sound echoing through the nearly empty parking lot. His green eyes spark with excitement as he looks back at Anna over his shoulder. "Hold on tight back there," he instructed playfully. "I plan on driving as fast as I can." Anna wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing herself against his back.
Zack's body goes rigid for a second at the feeling of he arms wrapping around him, her front pressed against his back. A low groan escapes his lips as he leans back into her embrace, one hand coming up to cover hers where they rest on his stomach. "Fuck," he breathes out, the curse a mix of pleasure and restraint. "You can't do that and expect me to ride safely." His hands move to grip the handlebars tightly, knuckles turning white. The motorcycle engine rumbles beneath them, vibrating through both of their bodies. "Hold on tight," he repeats, his voice rough with anticipation. "I am going to drive like a maniac if you keep touching me like that." Without waiting for another response, Zack twists the throttle and the motorcycle lurches forward out of the parking spot.
The motorcycle rockets out of the parking lot with a roar of the engine, tires squealing against asphalt. Zack navigates through the evening traffic with reckless precision, weaving between cars and accelerating through yellow lights. The wind whips past them at high speeds, forcing Anna's thing brown hair to stream behind her in wild strands. Behind him, he could feel every curve of her body pressed against his back– the softness of her breasts flattening against his shoulders, the warmth of her thighs bracketing his hips. Her arms tightened reflexively around his waist whenever he took sharp turns or accelerated rapidly. "Fucking hell," he mutters under his breath as they race down residential streets lined with oak trees. His heart pounds harder than the motorcycle's engine– partly from adrenaline but mostly from the intoxicating sensation of having Anna's body moulded perfectly against his own. He glances briefly in his rearview mirror before switching lanes aggressively to bypass a slower vehicle.
His gaze snaps back to the road ahead, knuckles white as he grips the handlebars. The rearview mirror reflects Anna's flushed face pressed against his leather jacket, hair whipping wild in the wind. Every bump in the pavement sends vibrations through their connected bodies. "Christ, Anna," he grits out through clenched teeth, voice strained with effort and arousal. "You are killing me here." The city blurs around them as they fly through intersections without slowing down. Zack's breathing becomes heavier as he feels her fingers dig into his abdomen during sharper turns. "Keep holding on like that and we are never making it home intact," he warns humorously, though there is real desperation underneath his tone. When they reach his house five minutes later, Zack practically skids onto the grass beside the driveway. He kills the engine abruptly but stays straddling the bike for a moment longer. "We are here," he said breathless.
Anna gets off the bike first, almost losing her balance. "I don't know if I will ever get used to that," she said with a light laugh. Zack watches her nearly stumble off the motorcycle, his expression softening with amusement. He cuts the engine completely and kicks down the stand before swinging his leg over to join her on solid ground. "Give it a few more time," he suggests with a knowing smirk. "Your legs get used to it eventually. Plus, you look pretty cute when you are trying to catch your balance." He steps closer, his hands finding her hips automatically as if drawn by magnets. The adrenaline from the ride still courses through his veins, making his touch more electric that usual. "Maybe I should teach you how to ride sometimes," he murmurs against her temple, inhaling deeply to catch the scent of her brown hair mixed with exhaust fumes. "Then we can terrorize these streets together." His thumbs draw slow circles on her hipbones as he studies her flushed face in the fading twilight.
"I don't know, I think I am more of a cute scooter type. I will leave the sexy fast stuff to you," Anna said playfully as they started walking towards the front door of Zack's house. Zack unlocks the front door and holds it open for Anna, his laughter echoing in the quiet entryway. "Cute scooter type? Of course you are. You would look adorable puttering along with those tiny wheels and a basket for groceries." He closed the door behind them, tosses his keys onto a small table near the wall and removed his leather jacket, tossing it on the couch. The house is dimply lit, casting long shadows across the living room furniture. "Fine, I will be the dangerous badass on my motorcycle while you ride your little pink Vespa," he teases, following her deeper into the house. "But don't come crying to me when you get bored of cruising at twenty miles per hour." His hands find their way back to her waist as he guides her toward the staircase leading upstairs. "I would prefer a purple Vespa, thank you," Anna said playfully. "And if I get bored, I will just have to give you a ride." Her voice became more seductive, and she glanced at Zack over her shoulder.