Madison is fucking mine. No one is allowed to touch her but me.
I’m the only one who can make her feel good.
I’m the only one who can hear her moans and feel her milking my cock.
“Big brother.”
My muscles lock, and I freeze mid-tug. Slowly, I raise my head. Blood pumps to my dick, turning the chub I’ve been sporting since waking up into a full-on erection.
Madison’s fingers circle my wrist and ease my hand away from her throat. She smooths her other palm down my chest and keeps going until she reaches my stomach. I’m a statueas her fingers curl past the waistline and tug our hips flush together.
“Who hurt you?” she whispers.
Everything in me comes to a screeching halt. I frown as the same emotion from earlier squeezes tighter around my chest.
At my visible confusion, she says, “You don’t care about dying if we crash. Who hurt you so badly to make you apathetic about your life?”
For a split second, I feel seen by her again. I didn’t have to say it out loud. Madison sees my struggle, and instead of antagonizing me about it and saying I’m weak, she asks me who made me feel this way. She fucking cares about me, and that scares the shit out of me.
Who hurt me?
Her fucking father hurt me.
My deadbeat dad hurt me.
My mother turning her back on me hurt me.
Every bully in school hurt me.
The worst part?
Madison fucking hurt me. She hung around the people who thrived off making my life a living hell, and now she wants to pretend she doesn’t know how deep that cut is.
I jerk my wrist out of her hold and step away from her. Madison reaches for me and decides against it when she gets a good look at my fuming expression. She drops her arm and gives me the most pathetic puppy eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Get on the bike,” I growl.
I mount the seat and, despite being angry, I still help her as she struggles to sit behind me. She winds her arms around my waist and clutches the hoodie over my stomach. I let out a heavy breath from my nose as I think about disgusting shit so I don’t come in my pants just from her touching me.
The engine roars to life as I turn the key I left in the ignition. Thank fuck no one stole my bike while I was passed out. I lean forward as we take off. Madison yelps and clutches me tighter as we jerk forward.
As we turn into the bend down the road, Madison leans with me so we don’t lose balance. With the turns and hills, I keep at a safe speed so I don’t lose control or, god forbid, have an accident. I may want to die, but I refuse to bring Madison with me.
Her fingers wring my hoodie in a white-knuckle grip, and after a few minutes of riding, she taps my chest to get my attention. I pull over to the side of the road and twist in my seat, giving her my full attention.
She flips the visor up before saying, “I changed my mind. I want the hoodie.”
My lips pull back in a cocky smile. “Take off your bra, doll.”
Madison’s eyes widen as she stares at me like a deer caught in headlights. When my smile falters, she snaps out of it and mumbles an apology. I cock my head, my curiosity piqued by her reaction, but I file it away for later inspection. I help Madison off the motorcycle and take off her helmet. She checks if the coast is clear before she peels off her jacket, then reaches behind her to unhook her bra.
“Crap,” she growls.
“Need help?” I step closer to her, my hand already stretched toward her.
Madison almost breaks her neck with how hard she shakes her head. “That’ll be too weird.”
I raise an eyebrow. Did she already forget about all theweirdthings we did together in the last twenty-four hours?
