Eventually, Carter glanced at his watch and grimaced. “I’m sorry. It’s nearly ten-thirty. I’ve really got to go.”

Carter paid for their food and drinks, waving away Peter’s attempt to pitch in. Peter followed him from the pub, his gaze dropping to the trucker’s sexy ass more often than not. They stopped at Carter’s motorcycle and the man offered Peter his hand. “I really appreciate everything. Thank you.”

The sincere warmth in Carter’s tone made Peter smile. “You’re welcome. See you the next time you pick up Toby.” He turned and started heading up the street.

“Hey!” Carter called, surprising him. Peter paused and looked at him. “You walking far?”

Peter shrugged. “Not far. About three miles in that direction.” He waved vaguely north.

Carter rolled his motorcycle closer, balancing it between well-muscled thighs. “Hop on. I’ll take you,” he said, holding out his helmet.

Chuckling, Peter shook his head. “Naw. It’s okay. Really. I enjoy walking.”

“No way, man. Really,” Carter insisted. “It’s dark out, and there’s no telling who’s on the streets. If it’s really only a few miles, it’ll only take me a few minutes.”

He slowly reached out for the helmet. “If you’re sure.”

“Yeah. Swing aboard.”

But Peter wasn’t so sure, since his cock had perked up at the sight of the sexy man straddling his Harley. Too bad he couldn’t think up a viable excuse, and he sure didn’t want to be rude. Peter pulled the helmet over his head, fumbling with the buckle. Carter reached out and strapped it on with gentle fingers.

The soft, inadvertent touches against his chin and jaw had Peter biting back a whimper as his dick filled the rest of the way. When he swung his leg over, he tried to keep room between their two bodies, but he could still feel the other man’s heat. He didn’t know if it was the vibrations of the bike, or the feel of the man in front of him that sent goose-bumps breaking out over his skin.