He collects his jacket from next to him and scoots out of the booth. 

 

"We better get going....can't get you back to work late, again.  I hate to be the one responsible for another outburst like this morning"  He throws you a biting glance across the table. 

 

You walk out of the restaurant and hike up your skirt again, loading yourself onto the back of the motorcycle.  This time there is no need for him to pull you close.  You grab hold and pull yourself forcefully against his back, causing him to let out a little gasp as the air escapes his lungs.  You complete the thought with a tantalizing squeeze to his inner thigh.  Together you ride back to work and walk inside, giggling like a couple of smitten teenagers.  

 

"So when can I see you again?"  he asks.  

 

"How about this weekend?" you reply......much to quickly you decide.  You immediately feel like you should smack yourself in the forehead repeatedly and shout 'stupid...stupid.....stupid....

 

Hard to get, hard to get...you tell yourself, trying not to be over eager. 

 

"I really can't this weekend" he answers with a smile, obviously revelling in your enthusiasm.  "Like I said before, I just moved into this place and I have alot of fixing up to do.  This weekend I'm painting the livingroom. "