The Pleasure Of Four

Chapter ２

He inquires, "Are you hungry?"

I am, but nobody in the area is open this late.

"I've got you covered," he assures her. "Do you have to go home in your car? I'll go with you there.

The speaker says, "I walked here."

Shane jumps his bike with one leg. He inquires, "Have you ever ridden?"

I nod, "I have," and say.

I tie my hair back into a ponytail and put on the helmet he provides me. I straddle the bike and slide close to him when I'm ready to ride, wondering whether he can feel the heat between my legs through his denim.

He turns to look at me, his body writhing beneath my palms, "Are you comfortable?"

The term "comfortable" doesn't really describe how I feel. I'm happy that our time together is beginning with a wonderful reason for me to throw my arms around him and hug him tight. I'm eager, lit up within at the possibility of what the following few hours may bring. I reassure him, "I'm great," rubbing my fingers into his defined abs while pondering what he might do if I attempted to smear my hands beneath his shirt.

His body is as firm and powerful as it seems, and it also has a fresh aroma that might pass for pure pheromones based on how my body is reacting to it.

Although I've always considered buying a motorbike someday, riding one can't possibly compare to riding behind a guy like him.

Onto the main thoroughfare of the island, Shane drives out of the parking lot. He moves away from where I was expecting him to go in quest of late-night fast food on the bridge connecting the island to the mainland.

Although he exudes a sense of speed and danger, the guy is a careful driver, and I feel comfortable around him. I don't need the additional adrenaline rush that would result from irresponsible driving; his physique is fascinating enough.

He takes me down the winding road that goes to one of the island's picturesque overlooks rather than bringing me to a restaurant or his house. The moon is out, and its reflected light is shimmering on the water, clear out to the horizon, although the panoramic picture is finest during the day. I hear the waves smashing below us as Shane shuts off the bike's engine.

Before he removes a white bag from a storage pouch over his bike's gas tank and brings me to a seat along the walkway, I'm still unsure of where food is going to fit into the picture and, to be honest, after clutching his body during the trip, I have other things on my mind.

He queries, "Would you like the cheeseburger or the chicken sandwich?" His large hand is holding two parcels, each of which is covered in white paper.

They both had excellent voices. I assume it's a cheeseburger.

He gives me the other after opening the first to inspect its contents.

I enquire, "Where are these from?"

“Dave’s. Do you realize it? He continues, "It's a little hole-in-the-wall place in a plaza across the Four Points bridge," as I shake my head. Just before they closed tonight, I purchased them.

He could've simply just bought food for himself earlier because we weren't meeting till midnight. Mark looks to be both sensually attractive and thoughtful.

I take a large mouthful and exclaim, "My god, this is good." It has the ideal proportion of meat to cheese to toasted bread and is still warm.

As he takes a bite of the chicken, Mark grinned at me. He tilts the bag toward me and adds, "There are fries too.

After a period of eating in quiet, we start talking as we get closer to finishing our sandwiches.

I remark, "So you work in construction," as I put a fry in my mouth.

Mark uses a paper napkin to clean his lips. The phrase "among other things."

"Like what?" you ask. If he revealed to me that he was a part-time model or a reserve soldier, I wouldn't be shocked.

"Property development," he explains.

Although I am unsure of the details, it seems a little remarkable.

He starts by asking, "What do you do at Rusty's?" before I can ask him a follow-up question.

I work as a waitress.

Been there a while?

I take a second French fry. It has been "almost two years."

"How about it?" While I'm still fishing in the bag, he reaches in and touches my hand with the back of his hand.

It's work. The coworkers I have are pleasant.

He nods and adds, "That's essential. And you reside on this island, right?

"All my life."

Nice, he remarks.

A: "How about you?" I enquire before devouring my burger.

"I now reside in Whitman, but I was born and raised inland in the center of the state."

"Last one," I remark, holding out the lone fry I could locate in the bag. Want to divide it? Even better than the wonderful burger were the fries.