Tears of Tess Read Online Free PDF Page B

accelerator. The bike whined and
took off with a skid.
    My
heart lurched into my throat as we shot forward, narrowly dodging a cyclist
with a mountain of merchandise on the back and zipped in front of a smog
spewing bus.
    My
mouth dried in panic and arms squeezed Brax so tight, his ribcage bruised my
biceps. Oh, my God! I wanted off. This isn’t my idea of fun.
    Brax
laughed as we straightened and drove with the mass. His happiness wrapped
around us like a protective bubble, and I tried to stop hyperventilating. 
    My
heart softened. He was enjoying this, and I wouldn’t ruin it. I trusted him to
keep me safe.
     
    *
* * * *
     
    An
hour later, a waterfall of sweat ran under my t-shirt. The bright sun had landed
me with a headache, and my brain felt cooked in the helmet. More than once, I’d
tried to pull away from Brax’s back, but we were both so hot and sticky, it was
disgusting.
    We’d
relaxed enough to enjoy driving through the labyrinths of streets, exploring
side alleys, skirting around markets and peddlers, but now my ass ached, and my
thighs had had enough of the vibrations of the scooter.
    I
needed a drink and somewhere cool—very, very cool. 
    Almost
as if he heard my thoughts, Brax slowed to a stop outside a tiny, decrepit
restaurant on the outskirts of the markets we’d driven around.
    It
looked anything but sanitary, with a sad donkey piñata hanging limp in the sun.
The ripped plastic tablecloths didn’t encourage one to linger, and the sign was
so blackened with filth, I couldn’t read the name.
    “Ugh—”
I exploded into a cough as a cloud of exhaust billowed from a rusty car. Very
hygienic .
    Brax
stroked my hands, still clutched around his middle. “You okay?”
    I
nodded, sucking in a harsh breath. “Yep. I was going to say, surely we can find
something better than this dive?”
    Brax
clambered off the bike, helping me off. My legs were the consistency of rubber.
I’d ridden a horse in my childhood and even spread-eagled on a fat animal was
better than the scooter. Going over bumps and potholes wasn’t good for my lady
parts.
    “I’m
dying of thirst.” Pursing his lips, he took in the dank appearance. “We’ll just
grab a quick drink and leave.” Brax unclipped his helmet and tied it to the
handlebars. I did the same, almost puddling to the ground in relief to remove
the hotbox from my lank hair.
    Brax
chuckled. “Bad hair day, huh?”
    I
reached up, running a hand through his sweaty locks. He leaned into my touch,
love sparking in his eyes.
    I
giggled. “A helmet on a hot day doesn’t exactly equate to sexy hair.”
    He
pushed his big fingers into my own tangled strands. “I think you look sexy no
matter what.” Running fingers down my cheek, he kept going, all the way to my
hand.
    Threading
his fingers with mine, he leaned in, kissing me gently. “Hopefully, this place
has cold drinks and ice.”
    My
skin was on fire and the thought of ice made my mouth water, but I shook my
head. “Not allowed ice, remember? Only bottled water. Our Aussie bellies can’t
handle the local H 2 O.”
    He
sighed. “Good point. Alright, I’ll just have a beer.”
    “If
you think you’re drinking and driving in this mess they call traffic, you have
another thought coming, mister.” I laughed as we entered the gloom of the
little café—if it could be called that—more like a falling down cave. The walls
were peeling and tacky posters hung sticky-taped in random places, hiding
pockmarking in the plaster. I frowned… they looked just like— Hell, are they
bullet holes?
    Trepidation
crawled like icy spiders in my blood. I squeezed Brax’s hand as intuition sat
up, ringing a loud warning gong. I was a firm believer in listening to my gut—it
saved me more than once. “Brax?”
    A
woman with tobacco stained teeth grinned a holey smile as she appeared. “Well,
well, nice to see some customers on such a hot day.” Her accented voice rasped
across my skin like sandpaper. “What can I get