Login with:

Facebook

Twitter

Tumblr

Google

Yahoo

Aol.

Mibba

Your info will not be visible on the site. After logging in for the first time you'll be able to choose your display name.

Hey Jude I & II

Motorcycle Drive By




I tried to put myself in Linda’s shoes but I couldn’t stay there. Would my reaction be that different had I been pregnant with Harry’s child? But this is Billy we’re talking about! The thought alone makes my stomach want to devour itself. One foolish night, that’s all it takes . . . for some. Poor Linda. Throughout our call, I felt hopeless to any words of encouragement or congratulations, but how does one celebrate a mistake?

“Everythin’ aright, babe?” Harry disrupts my horrid daze.

When I hung up with Linda, I slid the curtains back open and just sat there distracted by the view. The rich green hues were pleasant and calming but the mental struggle continued. I kept wondering what was racing through my friend’s mind and if I should make mention of it to Harry. He doesn’t need another reason to despise Billy but I’m afraid he wouldn’t do a good job at keeping this a secret either.

Acknowledging his question with a half-smile, I squeeze my cell phone and jump to my feet. Harry studies me carefully as I pass by but not before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. There’s no sense in ruining our cute morning with depressing news. There will come a time when I can tell him later.

Coming back to an empty room after my shower, I eagerly take my pill before I forget. I search for my red dress with beige polka dots and sense my mood lighten as I look forward to seeing Harry’s hometown. It’s supposed to be sixty three degrees today; perfect weather for a cruise.

“Aren’t you a doll!” Anne blurts out.

“Thank you, Mrs.-“

“Anne. Just Anne.”

“Thank you, Anne,” I reply once again, straightening my dress and checking my black flats. Placing my purse on the counter, I listen intently for the others.

“The boys are in the shed. I forgot to ask you, did you sleep comfortably last night? I can get you more blankets if it’s too cold.”

“Oh I slept wonderfully, thank you so much. You have a beautiful ho-“

I’m interrupted by a ferocious growl from a motorcycle. My expression is quick to reveal my distress but my body isn’t curious enough to move.

“Have you ridden a bike before?” Anne asks with a smile.

“Only ones with pedals,” I gasp.

The door opens and in comes Harry in faded boots, torn jeans, white shirt and a bandana full of skulls. Glancing at him from head to toe and then at my own outfit, I take a step back, unwilling to go.

“Are you sure ya wanna wear that?” he grins.

“Youuuuuu didn’t make ANY mention of a motorcycle,” I shake my head and grin back.

“You didn’t ask,” Harry shrugs. “C’mon, she’s ready. We got the back seat on.”

“Meaning, it’s detachable?!” I turn pale.

I’m trying hard to brush the fear aside and not seem like a coward but there’s something about speed and no protective barriers that have me trembling. Harry stands in front of me with a smile that could convince the most stubborn of saints. Knowing his stare is silently questioning my trust, I nod and take a deep breath.

“Don’t worry, Jude. He’s a safe rider or else I wouldn’t be this calm,” Anne pledges.

With a smug curve on his lips, I follow Harry outside to find a shiny ebony Harley. It screams danger but I trust Harry. He hands me one of the helmets and I carefully slide it over my head. He places his and zips on a hoodie before making sure that mine is on correctly. There’s a black jacket on the seat that Harry signals for me as well. Then it’s two thumbs up.

“You’re gonna love it!”

We mount the bike and Harry gives me a few seconds to get used to the rumbling sound and vibration. It’s even louder outside. Once Harry hits the gas, barely moving a few feet, my arms wire around his waist so tight there’s no force that can pry them open. My teeth are clenched as we ride slowly down the street; the ground looks like its spinning beneath me like a treadmill. I have to admit, this is kind of exhilarating.

Harry keeps a steady speed allowing me to see everything leisurely. It’s exciting to have the wind passing over my helmet and the freedom to let my arms soar in the air. But let’s not get too crazy because I won’t be doing that . . . ever!

We pass by Harry’s old job, school and the St. Luke’s Chapel. The bungalows and building structures look like backdrops from the Jane Austen novels. Soon we take to a straighter road where Harry feels confident to go a little faster. By this time my thighs have gone numb from the motor’s tremor and my ears have drowned out the white noise from the wind. I gaze ahead and see a large pond. Tapping Harry’s shoulder to get his attention, I point in that direction.

Slowing down, Harry aligns the bike, making it easy to get back out. I dismount and fix my dress quickly before he realizes, but it feels like I’ve been riding a horse for the past hour. Removing my helmet and jacket, I place it on my seat before taking in the scenery.

“This is the Brereton Pool,” Harry announces.

“It’s so peaceful. Look at all the ducks!”

Harry swings his arm around me and we admire Mother Nature for a while. Holding hands on the way back to the motorcycle, I’m struck with the impulse to sit in the front. What I intended as a bold joke, Harry sees as opportunity. Sitting behind me, Harry puts my helmet and jacket on me and tells me to grab the handles.

“Harry there is no way- I can’t drive this thing!”

“Yes, you can. I’m gonna teach you . . . have you driven a stick shift before?”

“My dad taught me but that was so long ago, Harry.” I feel my heart speeding faster in my chest, if quiet enough you can hear the rattling.

“It’s the same concept. Keep your hands on at all times. Left is clutch, right is gas. See the speedometer, that light indicates it’s on neutral. The next time you hit the left pedal it will shift to first. Remember the break is on the top right handle.”

“There’s too much to remember! I’m going to panic and stall the bike!”

“No you won’t. I’m right here, I can take over if you need help.”

“The bike is too heavy.”

“I’ll keep the bike steady and put my feet down when you come to a stop. Now, switch that button and since you’re already on neutral, rev the gas just a tad.”

I follow each instruction as though my life depends on it, because it does. Extremely nervous, I cautiously squeeze the clutch while adding some gas and hit the left pedal. I hesitate too much and almost stall the bike but Harry grabs the gas handle and gives us the extra boost. I freak out and want to let go of both handles but he calmly places both hands over mine. Then it’s time for the second gear. Oh God.

This long road couldn’t be more suitable for this lesson as I adapt to this power between my legs, literally. The adrenaline has infected my veins as I get braver and increase our speed. I’m going ninety miles an hour and Harry is laughing behind me, raising his hands like we’re on a roller coaster. I see a crossroad up ahead and tap his knee to help me. He goes down shifts and starts to break with the pedal and handle.

We align once again and Harry kicks the stand down. I can’t contain my excitement as I jump off and wait for him to do the same.

“Oh my God, that was crazy!” I shout, removing my helmet.

“You killed it! I’m so proud of you, babe!”

I lunge my arms around Harry’s neck and he wastes no time in lifting me to straddle his waist. I reward him with a kiss but for right now all I want is to keep hugging him, at least till my heart settles down. His body is moving and before I know it we are sitting back on the metal steed. My back is facing the front of the motorcycle while Harry sits comfortably with a proud smile on his face.

“You don’t know how sexy you looked controlin’ those handles . . . the speed . . . Gawh!” Harry grunts and extends his fingers like he wants to grab my face and eat me. Instead he steals a tiny kiss. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat something.”

“Let’s go for a real ride.”

Nodding, I climb off and ready myself. I take the back seat where I feel surprisingly more relaxed and enjoy the next hour drive. We seem to be heading further away from Holmes Chapel but I don’t need to know any specifics. This is Harry’s vacation.



We’re riding back from Manchester, racing against the sunset. I’m satisfied in so many levels from my appetite to my lust of the eyes. My head rests on Harry’s back as I replay the last few hours. I was taken to this amazing restaurant called Rosso. We wined and dined and got a complimentary dessert from the owner. It went so smoothly with hardly any interruptions . . . but that wasn’t the best part.

Maybe I impressed Harry today, I don’t know, but he was deviously quiet. Not awkward or anything, for he was smiling and staring at me the whole time. When I’d ask him what or what he was thinking about, he’d just shake his head while his smile grew from ear to ear. He held and played with my hand throughout most of our time at the restaurant, showing this unexplainable spark like a boy’s first try of love.

His dimples had never been out that long; he even confessed how much his cheeks were hurting by the end of our date. I did take that opportunity to tell him about Linda briefly. He slid his chair beside mine and held me close. Harry had no advice, he just listened with his cheek against my forehead. I wish I was able to hug Linda and comfort her like a sister would in person; that’s the only excuse I have for being so speechless.

We arrive back at the house just before dark but no one is home. Harry finds a few texts on his phone from his mother and sis telling him of their late plans. Anne and Robin are at a friend’s house for dinner and Gemma is out on a date. We’re alone . . . what to do now?

“You owe me, you know?” I blurt out as I remove my shoes in the guest room.

“Oh, do I?” Harry throws himself on the corner of the bed. “I believe it’s the other way around.”

My eyes narrow in on his, hoping he can read my mind. Harry has been so wonderful today, I desperately feel the need to reward him. To touch him. Perhaps engage in a full night’s worth of foreplay and lovemaking to tire out this adrenaline left inside me. I grab my toiletry bag, towel and pajamas from this morning. Standing in front of my exhausted boyfriend, I tickle under his chin with my free hand in hopes to initiate.

“Would you like me to join you?”

“Not this time. I have some self-pampering to do.”

“Did you get your period?” He asks with a semi scowl.

“No, silly,” my hand travels down and stops over his chest. “If you really must know, I’m going to shave . . . because this night isn’t over yet.” I wink and watch Harry’s reaction.

“Let me watch.”

“But I’m afraid the shower is rather small,” I look to the floor and mumble, “and I have to shave other . . . parts.”

“I promise I won’t get in. I just want to look at you.”

Hesitation wants to get the best of me but I nod. Is there a rule book on how to shave and still look sexy in the shower? All I can think about is not cutting myself or slipping and bruising. That’ll really kill the mood. It’s too late to say something now as he follows me across the hall. I switch on the light and place my things on the counter, looking at Harry, he closes the door behind us . . .


Notes

A/N: Chapter Playlist

"She Changes the Weather" -Swim Deep

"You Don't Know You're Beautiful" -The 1975 cover




Hello dolls, I wanted to update ASAP so here is the nice portion. The next chapter will be an interesting literary experiment as it will be a steamy one but due to the actual content, I'm nervous to write out how I envision it exactly. We shall see. Enjoy the weekend! :) xoxo

Comments

85............why am i commenting on dirty things!

48 Is really kinky......but im still readidng it

ok so chapter 35 tells me how to cup nuts...ok

woow not even half of the book and there already fucking!! chapter 6 and 5 are the reason i don't have a boyfriend :(

Hey! Could you please answer me on Whattpad? I would be so honored to translate your amazing fanfiction into Russian.