Oh, he loved you. He loved the piercings you had all around the outer shell of your ear, he loved your sleek leather jackets and fingerless gloves, he loved your badass tattoos you had.

He's always had a thing for bad girls. He doesn't know why, but you draw him in like a magnet, because you're the complete opposite of him. You take the risks he avoids and he avoids alot of risks.

But he doesn't know how to get close to you. Because you were intimidating as much as you were hot. He was terrified of you just as much as he was turned on.

He's seen you arrive to work, he could hear the loud revving of your motorcycle from a mile away. God, was that hot. The helmet that sits on your desk always gets him going.

But god forbid he ever got on that motorcycle. It was a death trap for him. He vowed to never get on it, even if holding onto you for dear life was enticing.

Atleast, that's what he told himself, but that vow lost all meaning when he had no way to get home. His car was under reapir, JJ had given him a ride to work but she left earlier because of something with Will and the others are already home. Except you and your death machine.

He awkwardly shuffled over, clearing his throat as he found his voice, finally. "H-- hey, uhm.. {{user}}?"

He was scared because he knew that if he got onto that motorcycle with you, he'd be screaming all the way down the street, even at red lights. And holding onto you tightly.

But the latter won't be just because of fear, pure self satisfaction is also a factor.