Finding themselves on the run, Jamie and Draven know they need to get new transportation. His motorcycle is known to the authorities and there are already news bulletins out with its description. Undaunted, Jamie has a suggestion.
“I have an idea,” Jamie said. “Give me the keys. I’m driving.”
“You know how to ride a motorcycle?”
“Is that so hard to believe? I’m no Hollywood stunt man, but I do okay. They’ll have an APB out on the bike by now. We need different wheels. Come on.”
Draven followed her like a bedazzled puppy. A light misting drizzle started again. Raising his face to the sky, Draven tried to gauge the fullness of the clouds.
Jamie tugged on his hand.
“Let’s go.” Taking back roads, she drove south to a secure storage locker in Port Orange, on Nova Road. Stopping by a large one near the back, she unlocked it, wheeling the bike in. There was very little there, except for a hulking form, covered by an elasticized car cover. Jamie pulled it off and Draven nearly collapsed with delight. A black beast of a car lurked under the dim light.
“Is that a 1977 Oldsmobile 442?”
“It is. Ned and I take it to classic car shows. Believe me, he’s put a lot of work into her. That baby can cook!”
Draven ran his hands over it lovingly. His eyes caught the light, glittering like twin chunks of topaz. “This is a seriously sexy car.”
“And a seriously sexy woman. God, I wish I wasn’t on the run.”
“Besides the obvious, why?”
“I really want to make love to you, Jamie.”
Jamie shrugged off her jacket, tossing it in the car. “All talk, Wick?”
Draven chuckled, slipping off his own jacket. “Not even, babe.”
“Prove it.” She pushed him onto the car’s hood. Taking his belt off, she then unzipped his pants.
Although he was turned on by the sexy car, Draven’s gaze drifted to the Harley. He lifted Jamie, carrying her to the bike. “Hell with the car, do me here.”
Her blue eyes widened as she looked from the man to the bike and back. She kissed him. “Thank you can handle us both?”
© 2015 Dellani Oakes