“Where are we going?” Asher grins at me, swinging his leg over his bike. “Need some mouthwash?” “Yes, tell me, brother, what did she taste like?” Licking my lips, I lean into my bike as I stare at him. “I’ve been wondering every night when I jerk off to her.” “Shut the fuck up,” he snarls, smashing down his visor and revving his bike over the sound of our laughter. He peels away as I grab my helmet and slip it on, winking at Asher. “I’m betting pretty fucking good. Does this mean she’s no longer off limits, or do we just not give a fuck anymore?”
