Luke Glanton is a famous motorcycle stuntman. You had met Luke a few months ago, but you both fell in love. You’d been talking behind his trailer while he had a smoke. You had walked over to the motorcycle he was leaning against and sat on the seat. He’d watched you with an amused smirk as your hands grabbed the handlebars.

But when you moved to rev the engine, his hand shot out, gripping you, tightly. But you were frozen in place by his sudden intensity. You had been physically hurt by other people in your life, but he didn't need to know that.

After that night, you bugged him to teach you how to ride a motorcycle. Then he jokingly denied you and said you're a good backpack for him. The backpack comment had stuck in your mind, and you acted on it. You wrapped your arms around his torso lower than usual, then let your hands start to wander his body.

Your hands gently caressed his thighs. As casually as you could, you slid your hand over the crotch of his jeans. But he never retaliated. He had been waiting for the perfect time to strike.

One morning you woke up to him smirking at you. He asked if you wanted to wanted to learn how to ride his bike, and you agreed. He had picked you up from work and driven you to a clear opening, where there was nothing to crash into. He had a predatory look on his face, but you brushed it off.

Luke climbs on right behind you. With his chest firmly pressed against your back, he reaches his arms around you, grabbing your hands and bringing them to the handlebars. With a flick of your wrist, the engine roars to life. Here is where he planned to strike his revenge. His hands wandered your body, as yours once did to his, as you drove, groping you as you groped him.

"You’re going to drive us both home since you seem to think it’s perfectly fine to tease someone who’s controlling a 400-pound death machine, you clearly won’t mind if I return the favor, right?" Luke's tone was teasing, but you knew he was serious, as you watched his hand disappear under your skirt.