Chapter 7: Engine Heat
The shower washed away the chlorine, the salt, and the lingering scent of the city, leaving only the clean, sweatless truth of their skin. They ate standing at the kitchen island, stealing chorizo from the same pan, their silence comfortable, charged. Later, on the balcony where it had begun, Nevaieh nodded towards the parking garage below. "Come see my bike." The elevator descent was a slow, hummed tension. The garage was a concrete crypt, smelling of oil and old heat, her black chopper a sleek beast in the corner. Nevaieh swung a leg over it, settling onto the leather seat, and looked at Ana. "You wanted to see what this bike could do?" Ana’s breath hitched as she approached, the engine’s dormant rumble a phantom between her thighs. Nevaieh’s hands hooked into the waistband of Ana’s shorts, pulling her close. She peeled the fabric down with a rough tug, her teeth finding the inked feathers of the peacock. Ana gasped, her hands gripping Nevaieh’s shoulders as she was guided onto her lap, the cool leather a shock against her bare skin. Nevaieh’s own jeans were already open, the hard length of her pressing urgently against Ana. "Hold onto the bars," Nevaieh growled, and Ana obeyed, her fingers wrapping around the cold chrome as Nevaieh positioned her. With one brutal thrust, she sheathed herself inside, the bike groaning under their combined weight. The engine wasn’t running, but Ana could feel its imagined vibration in the deep, driving rhythm Nevaieh set, each snap of her hips jolting Ana against the handlebars. "Fuck, yes," Nevaieh hissed, her mouth on Ana’s neck, her hands anchoring Ana’s hips, demanding more, harder. Ana’s cries echoed off the concrete walls, a desperate music synced to the slap of skin and the creak of leather. "This is what you wanted," Nevaieh snarled, her pace relentless, "to be fucked anywhere, owned everywhere." Ana could only nod, broken words of assent tumbling from her lips as the world narrowed to the relentless push and pull, the bite of the seat, the claiming depth of each stroke. She came with a shattered scream, her body clamping down, and Nevaieh followed, a low, guttural sound lost against Ana’s shoulder. They slumped together, spent, the only sound their ragged breaths in the damp, dark air.
They slumped together, spent, the only sound their ragged breaths in the damp, dark air. Nevaieh’s forehead rested against Ana’s spine, right over the inked words of her mother’s letter. "Christ," she finally muttered, the word vibrating through Ana’s back.
Ana unclenched her hands from the handlebars, her fingers stiff. She felt carved out and remade, the garage’s stale chill raising goosebumps on her thighs. Nevaieh shifted, slowly withdrawing, and a sharp, full ache settled deep in Ana’s core. "I can’t walk," Ana whispered, a laugh tangled in the exhausted words.
"You don’t have to." Nevaieh gently tugged her shorts back into place, her hands surprisingly tender after their urgency. She helped Ana stand, holding her steady as her legs trembled. "Just gotta make it to the elevator." The ride upstairs was a quiet hum, Ana leaning heavily into Nevaieh’s side, smelling of sex and gasoline and leather. In the penthouse, Nevaieh guided her past the dark living room, straight into the bathroom. She turned on the shower, steam quickly fogging the mirrors from their earlier visit.
"Look at you," Nevaieh said softly, peeling the damp clothes from Ana’s body. Her gaze traced the new red marks on Ana’s hips, the faint imprints from the bike’s seams. "You’re a fucking masterpiece." She stepped into the spray, pulling Ana in with her, and the hot water was a shock that melted the remaining tension from Ana’s muscles. Nevaieh washed her with a focused, quiet care, her hands smoothing soap over the peacock, the phoenix, the marine life on her arm.
"The guys at the shop keep asking when I’m bringing this bike back," Nevaieh said conversationally, her fingers working shampoo into Ana’s scalp. "It’s a custom job for a client in Boca." Ana leaned back into the touch, her eyes closed. "What do you tell them?" she mumbled. Nevaieh’s hands paused for a second. "I tell them it needs more road testing." She rinsed Ana’s hair, her touch definitive. "A lot more."
Wrapped in towels, they fell into bed, the crisp sheets a luxury against sensitized skin. Ana curled into Nevaieh’s side, her head on her shoulder, listening to the strong, steady beat of her heart. The city’s light painted slow patterns on the ceiling. "My sister thinks you’re dangerous," Ana said into the dark.
Nevaieh’s chest moved with a silent chuckle. "Cris thinks I’m interesting. Xavier thinks I’m practical. Your Tia thinks I need feeding." She turned her head, her lips brushing Ana’s forehead. "What do you think?"
Ana considered the soreness between her legs, the possessive brand of Nevaieh’s teeth on her shoulder, the unwavering way her family had simply made space at the table. She thought of the vulnerability in Nevaieh’s eyes when she came, a stark, open truth she hid from everyone else. "I think you’re a thief," Ana whispered.
Nevaieh went very still. "Oh yeah?"
"You stole my attention on a train. You stole my breath on a balcony." Ana lifted her head to meet her gaze in the dimness. "You’re stealing this bike, apparently. And I think you stole a piece of me I’m never getting back." She let the words hang, raw and unfiltered. Nevaieh’s eyes searched her face, the usual guarded distance completely gone. She didn’t smile. She looked wrecked. "Good," she said, her voice rough. "Because I’m not giving it back." She kissed her, a slow, deep sealing of a pact. "And I’m not giving you back, either."
Sleep pulled at them, thick and heavy. Just as Ana was drifting off, Nevaieh’s voice rumbled against her ear. "Get some sleep. We’re going to the beach tomorrow night. A real one. Where the sand is black."Why?" Ana sighed, already half-dreaming.
"Because I want to fuck you where the water can’t wash anything away." The promise, dark and sweet, was the last thing Ana heard before sleep took her.
The next evening, the chopper’s real engine vibrated between Ana’s thighs, a live, roaring beast as they flew across the MacArthur Causeway. She clung to Nevaieh, the wind whipping her hair, the world blurring into streaks of bridge light and dark water. They left the neon skyline behind, plunging into quieter streets, until the asphalt gave way to a rough path and the roar of the open Atlantic.
Nevaieh killed the engine near a secluded cove, the sudden silence ringing in their ears. Here, the sand was volcanic grit, absorbing the moonlight rather than reflecting it. The ocean was a vast, breathing blackness. Nevaieh swung off the bike and pulled Ana into the cool, salty air. "This is it," she said, her voice low, almost lost in the crash of the surf.
She spread a blanket she’d pulled from a saddlebag on the dark sand, far from the tideline. The only light came from a sliver of moon and the distant, hazy glow of the city they’d escaped. Nevaieh sat and pulled Ana down across her lap, facing the ocean. Her hands slid under Ana’s thin dress, pushing it up around her waist. "You see all that?" Nevaieh whispered, her mouth at Ana’s ear, one hand splayed possessively over her stomach. "It’s just for us tonight."
Her other hand dipped into Ana’s underwear, fingers finding her already wet and ready. Ana gasped, arching back against her. "You’ve been thinking about this all day," Nevaieh stated, her fingers circling, pressing, but not entering. "Haven’t you? Every time you moved, you felt me from last night, and you got wet all over again." Ana could only nod, her hands gripping Nevaieh’s knees. "Say it."
"I thought about you fucking me on the bike," Ana breathed, the words torn away by the wind. "I thought about your hand on my throat in the shower. I thought about this." Nevaieh rewarded her by pushing two fingers deep inside her, a sudden, stretching fullness that made Ana cry out. "Good girl." She began to move her hand, a relentless, curling rhythm that matched the surge of the waves. Her other hand tightened on Ana’s belly, holding her still as she worked her.
"Come for me just like this," Nevaieh commanded, her teeth grazing Ana’s shoulder. "Watching the goddamn ocean. I want to feel you come on my fingers." The orgasm built like the tide, slow then all-consuming, a wave that broke with a force that blinded Ana to everything but the dark water and the fingers inside her. She shook with it, a silent scream on her lips. Nevaieh held her through it, then slowly withdrew her glistening fingers. She brought them to Ana’s mouth. "Taste it," she murmured. "Taste how much you want me."
Ana took her fingers into her mouth, sucking clean the salt and musk of her own arousal, her eyes locked on Nevaieh’s shadowed face. Nevaieh’s gaze burned with a feral pride. She laid Ana back on the blanket, the black sand cool and granular beneath her. Nevaieh stripped off her own clothes, her tattoos a living map in the monochrome light. She knelt between Ana’s spread legs, hooking her knees over her shoulders. "Now," she said, the word a growl that swallowed the ocean’s sound, "I’m going to ruin you for anyone else."
She didn’t use her mouth. She didn’t tease. She leaned forward, bracing herself on one arm, and guided herself into Ana with a single, devastating thrust. Ana’s back arched off the blanket, a sharp cry ripped from her lungs. Nevaieh didn’t pause, didn’t gentile. She set a brutal, deep pace, each drive anchoring Ana to the earth. The sand shifted beneath the blanket with their force."You feel that?" Nevaieh grunted, sweat dripping from her hair onto Ana’s chest. "That’s me.All of me. In every part of you." She shifted angle, hitting a spot that made Ana see white sparks. "This cunt is mine. You come on it, you scream for it, you dream about it." She fucked her with a starving, possessive rage, as if trying to merge their bodies through force alone. Ana’s hands scrabbled at her back, nails digging into the ink, meeting nothing but coiled muscle and driving need.
"Neva—" she tried to form words, but they shattered into pleas. "Please, don’t stop, fuck, right there—" She was unraveling, the world reducing to the slap of skin, the smell of the sea and sex, the crushing, perfect pressure filling her. Nevaieh locked her gaze, her rhythm becoming punitive, exact. "Who do you belong to?" she demanded, her voice raw."You!" Ana sobbed, the confession torn from her. "You, I’m yours, I’m—" The second climax detonated, a convulsive, endless wave that pulled a guttural scream from her very core. Nevaieh followed with a choked roar, her body slamming into Ana’s one final, perfect time as she spilled inside her, her own release a shuddering collapse against her.
They lay tangled for long minutes, the ocean sucking at the shore, their hearts hammering against each other. Nevaieh finally stirred, softening inside her. She didn’t pull away. She rolled them both onto their sides, staying connected, her arm a heavy band across Ana’s ribs."You see?" she whispered into Ana’s hair, her voice barely audible. "Nothing washed away."