13. Monica

13

MONICA

I have lost my damn mind.

Sitting behind him on that huge motorcycle, I had to ignore the voice of reason screaming in my head. I had had to treat dozens and dozens of motorcycle accident patients in my time. Their injuries ranged from a few cuts and bruises up to shattered skulls. They were among the top cases that could tear me apart and give me nightmares for days or even weeks. Yet seeing Raul astride this monstrosity of a motor generated a massive desire to be alone with him. It was as if this was a gift from fate itself. I had given up hope, not daring to believe he would risk visiting me again. After all, he had been clear that we couldn't be together. That if we were we'd be in dire mortal danger.

I leaned back a little and loosened my death-grip on his waist. The wind was tossing my hair back, but strands of it whipped me in the face stinging right below my eyes. The ‘City of Shandaken' sign closed in fast, but Raul didn't enter the town. He turned right and onto a side road.

It set us on an uphill course that went straight into the wilderness. It must have been much like what he called home. At least I guessed. Did he have a home? Did wolf-men live in the forest? What was his home like? Decorated? Dedicated bachelor pad?

Trees lined either side of the road. To the right, they went on and on, forming a lush forest. He made minor adjustments to the steering wheel to avoid gravel and dirt. The longer I was on what I would have previously called a "death machine" with him, the more comfortable I became. It was clear he not only knew what he was doing, he was an expert at it. In moments, I was smiling to myself.

Overlooking the first few houses of Shandaken, I saw the locals going about their night. Mr. Berenson, the town's one and only barber, whom I'd seen for a minor cut was laying down hay for Rico, his beloved stallion.

Mrs. Merton, whom I had treated for arthritis, walked down the street, between Kayleigh and Lucas, her young grandchildren. But it wasn't the comforting sight of the locals that I had met and cared for that offered me the sweetest sensations.

It was touch. The feel of the wind.

My hair was flowing straight back from my head except for one or two tendrils trapped under the collar of my coat. The crispness of the air engulfed the skin on my face and offered a sense of freedom.

I closed my eyes as for the first time I began to comprehend the appeal of a motorbike. Above us were thousands upon thousands of square miles of rich, sparkling night sky. I experienced the wild in all its glory, stretching out into the distance. The ample wind in my hair, brought all sorts of scents to my nostrils while chilling my skin but warming my heart.

In a car, you're on the road but on a motorcycle, you are on the road. You somehow become a part of it because you don't have a roof over your head and a frame to block all the wonderful things from view. You could take in those magnificent images. They were free to be engraved into your brain. Nothing could stop you from savoring them, except some rain perhaps. Thankfully, we didn't have to worry about that.

Raul continued up the road for several minutes, until he eased on the brakes, about twenty yards before its end. After that, there was a small track, which led into the forest. The racket of the exhausts subsided, and he turned off the engine as I glanced left. I swung my leg over the saddle still feeling the rumbling vibrations of the bike in my muscles as I stepped off. I paced a bowlegged circle while the feeling in my thighs subsided.

I was happy. Happy to have been impulsive for a change. Happy for the new experience. And happy to be here, alone, with him. I walked until I could see Shandaken laid out beyond the greenery. Small lights glimmered in the dark from the lampposts that stood across from one another on the main road. Smoke rose from chimney tops, creating threads of it that hovered over the houses before disappearing into thin air.

"Someone looks impressed," Raul remarked, leaning back in the saddle.

"More like amazed," I corrected him, rubbing my arms to warm myself up. "I didn't know Shandaken was so beautiful at night."

Waiting for his comeback, my ears picked up the metallic sound of his zipper. I dared a glance over my shoulder knowing he had no compunctions about getting naked, both hoping and fearful at the same time. I was only a little disappointed to realize it was the zipper of his jacket and not that of his pants.

"You need this more than I do," he said, slipping out of his coat.

"Raul don't," I said, shaking my head and stepping towards him. I bit my lip debating. But hell, as long as I was being impulsive, I might as well go for what I wanted a lot more than a daring ride on a motorcycle. I decided to go for it. "I don't need your coat. I need you . Raul, I need your arms around me."

My heart beat harder in my chest as I gauged his reaction. I didn't see any hint of sorrow in his eyes as a small smile formed on his face and then his hands were reaching for me. As his hands touched me, he gently pulled me closer. I looked into those eyes, anticipating his next move and he didn't fail me.

His arms curled around my upper body as our mouths joined in a long, passionate kiss. I reached forward and stroked his abdomen over his shirt. I eased up the fabric, in an attempt to untuck the cloth out of his pants. I couldn't believe it. My conservative self, a woman of numerous principles and beliefs, was trying to undress someone in the wild.

"You're playing with fire, doc," he uttered in a hot voice, his lips only an inch away from mine, his breath caressing my skin.

"I don't care," I whispered.