Untamed

She sat on the back of his Indian, her hair blowing in the breeze. There was something about the wind in your face and the open road—the sense of freedom. She had her hands wrapped around him, holding on, hugging him tight. He found her when she was at a low point in her life. He was an outlaw at the core, hated people, and wanted to just be left alone. Yet, he took her without giving her much of a choice. As he turned a corner, the bike leaned, and she leaned in closer to him. He now just wanted to live in peace. And she, she was finding herself after many years of abuse and neglect. She was fixing her crown and taking her life back. She rested her chin on his shoulder and leaned in closer, hugging him tighter. She never thought she would find peace or know what it was like to genuinely love someone. But he had come in like the roar of a bike and shown her what a real man was like. Everyone before him had treated her like a piece of ass and not a person. It had taken a long time for her to stop doubting him and just let things go and let them be just the way they were. He made another turn and came to a stop at a stoplight. He turned his head to look at her. “You good?” he asked. She looked back at him and softly replied in his ear, “Yes, I’m good.” He nodded his head, and the light turned green. He took off. She did not know where they were going. All he had done was tell her to get on the bike and did not tell her anything more. She had learned not to ask, just do as she was told and keep her mouth shut. It was the biker life of a woman: “Know your place, keep your mouth shut, and don’t ask questions. Stand and look pretty.” She knew it well. The scenery was gorgeous—mountains, trees, the sun shining made for a beautiful ride. She used to hate riding on motorcycles, but then she met him, and now it was her favorite thing. Her face tucked into his neck, she moved to see, realizing she was looking at the ocean—the ocean he brought her to. Her eyes widened at the vast expanse of water, creating an endless scenery before her. She loved water, finding peace in the sound of waves crashing and the salty air. She imagined the wind in her hair and the icy water splashing on her feet. The ocean brought peace, but there was an unforeseen darkness she shared with it—the endless depth. Sometimes, she felt like she was drowning, barely keeping her head above the water, no ground beneath her to stand on, like she was treading water. She got close to his ear and whispered, “You took me to the ocean, but why?” He leaned into her and replied, “Because the last time we were at the ocean, I watched you. You glowed, you looked like you were home, there was a peace around you.” She whispered back, “But you do not need to bring me here. I am fine closer to home.” He turned his head and looked at her, then back at the road ahead. His hand gripped the throttle tightly, knuckles almost white. “You still question me.” She quickly replied, “No, that is not what I am trying to do. It is just, never mind.” She tucked her face back into his neck and opened her mouth slightly to gently kiss his neck—a favorite spot. She pressed her body against his back, moving her tongue slowly up the side of his neck, just the tip touching his skin. He leaned into her, exposing more of his neck to her. She ran her tongue back down slowly and softly, leaving gentle kisses on his neck, moving down to his shoulder. She parted her lips more and softly sucked his skin into her mouth, trying to be careful. She shouldn’t but wanted to leave a mark on him. She lightly bit him, losing herself in the moment. Suddenly, she was pulled out of her little world; a hand gripped her hair. He was trying to get her to let go of him. She did not want to. There was something about this that made her feel alive, heated; her body tingled and trembled from all the mixed feelings and emotions it stirred within. The grip got tighter, bringing her back to reality. She stopped and let go, kissing his neck one last time. He let go of her hair. She stared into his eyes as he looked at her. “You need to stop,” he said, turning his head back to the road in front of him. “You know you cannot leave marks.” She looked away and lowered her head. “I know,” she replied. “I lost control. Something about it stirs a primal feeling in me, and I do not want to stop. I want to bite till I draw blood. I do not know how to explain what I feel, but it just is never enough. I always crave more, like a drug.” She said to him, “I am sorry. I did not mean to lose control of myself.” “Just be more careful,” he told her. She nodded her head, even though he did not notice. The sun was starting to set; the sky looked like it was on fire. The yellow and orange hues painted the sky. It was stunning. She never got to see the sun set like this. She wished she had known they were doing this; she would have brought her camera. He slowed the bike down; he made a sharp right turn into a graveled parking lot, parking the bike in front of some bushes. He kicked the kickstand out and leaned the bike over. Putting her hands on his shoulder, she swung her leg over the back of the bike and got off. He removed his helmet and stood up, doing the same swinging his leg over, not without struggle; his hip was bothering him again. She walked around the back of the bike to him. She held his arm while he steadied himself. “Your hip is bothering you again,” she said. “Yes,” he replied, “but I am fine.” “No, you're not, you are hurting, and I don’t like it when you're hurting because I cannot help you.” Whispering to herself, “I would take it all away if you could live pain-free.” He heard her but didn't say anything. “Hand me your helmet,” he told her, “so I can put it in the saddlebags.” She handed him her helmet; he took it from her and opened the left saddlebag. He grabbed a black bag and handed it to her. She took it; it took a second to realize it was her camera bag. He thought to bring it. She looked at him, eyes wide and shining. “You brought my camera.” “Of course I did. Why would I bring you here and not bring it? I knew you would forget too.” “How would I know we were coming here? I would have brought it had I known.” He looked at her with a questioning look. “Really? You would have remembered? You always forget it.” “I do not,” she argued. “That is why every time you say you're going to bring it, you don't.” “You know it’s not nice to tease me,” she replied with a smirk on her face. “When did I ever say I was nice?” he replied. She grinned at him. “So where are we going, Sir?” He moved closer to her; he reached out, placing his hand under her chin, gripping her firmly. He turned her head to the side and, leaning in, whispered in her ear, “‘We’ are going to walk in that direction to the beach so ‘you’ can take photos of the sunset.” His warm breath on her made her body tingle. She tried not to react to the sensation. She knew he was doing it purposely. He let go of her face. “Let's go,” he said. Still holding her camera, she started to walk ahead of him. Still standing there, he watched her for a second, admiring her walk. He loved her walk, the way her legs crossed over each other, how her hips moved, how she held her body like she owned everything around her, oblivious to the world. She stopped and turned around to look at him. “Are you coming? Or are you just going to stand there and stare at me?” she said with a smile, putting her hand on her hip, feet crossed like always—it was her signature thing. He started to walk towards her. “Are you going to be mouthy with me?” “I’m not being mouthy; I’m being cute.” She quickly turned back around and walked off. “Is it a problem if I want to stand there and stare at you? Ever think I enjoy watching you?” “That’s fine; you can stare all you want. I love watching you too,” she said as she continued to walk towards the beach. He followed behind her. “So which way are we going?” she asked. “See the little trail off to the left? Go there,” he told her. “OK,” she answered. She turned around and walked back to him, next to his side. She slipped her arm into his, holding on to him. She looked up at him and said, “Thank you for bringing me here. Thank you for always paying attention to me and noticing things about me no one else has done. You always amaze me with the tiniest of things you do. It's not about the massive things; it's the tiny things that mean the most to me; it requires paying more attention. Every moment with you I cherish, and there is not another person I would rather spend my time with than you. There is no one outside of you; there can't be.” She held his arm tighter, looked down at the ground, and in a quiet soft voice, said, “You are my last love, my only love.” There was silence between them. She lost track of where they were. The ocean was now in front of her—the vast endless sea. The smell of salty air was crisp. The sun was setting on the horizon; the tide was out. She stopped, took in a deep breath, and let out a big sigh. He looked out at the ocean. “You know what we have is just that, what we have; it's whatever we decide to make of it. If you keep your end of what you promised, it can stay this way. What you and I have is special and unique. But if you're not careful it's going to end.” “I know,” she said. She let go of his arm and walked past him. She opened her camera case, pulled out her camera, turned the little dial on her camera so it was on, then started to adjust the lens so it focused exactly right. She turned the screen on so she could see what she was taking a photo of, then turned and looked up, pointing her camera at him. She took a photo. She smiled at him. “What? Can't I have a photo of you? I sneak them every chance I get anyway,” she said, shrugging her shoulders at him. She turned back around, looking out at the sea. He just watched her. For a man who had a tough time loving, he found himself standing right in the middle of it. She was something different, a spark of light in a sea of darkness. He tried to keep her at a distance; he was just going to keep her as his little slave. It was safe, no emotions, no feelings. Then she started staying the night, that one day a week she spent doing things with him—their deep conversations. Somewhere she crept herself in. The distance between them wasn’t so distant anymore. Now she needed to be careful so she didn't lose what they had.