Chapter Text
A gentle kiss on my cheek rouses me from my sleep. I give a grateful hum and open my eyes, squinting against the harsh morning light. As my eyes get used to the brightness, Richard's face slowly comes into view, his head on his pillow, smiling sleepily at me.
“Morning, love,” I croak, giving him a tired smile and a quick kiss before resting my head back down on the pillow. I know today is Saturday, Richard doesn't have any work and I am still on sick leave. Last night we had talked about what we were doing today, and Richard decided to leave it up to me. And I in turn decided to wait until today to make up my mind, thinking that I'd decide based on how I felt in the morning and what I felt like doing. I stretch and yawn, rubbing my face, trying to become marginally more awake.
“You're cute when you yawn,” Richard giggles.
“Yawning puppies are cute. Me, not so much.”
“You're my yawning puppy,” he insists, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me in for a hug.
“Wow, Hammond, that's really... soppy,” I chuckle, running my fingers through his hair.
“Yeah, you make me that way,” he says softly, still hugging me. Relinquishing his grip on me he pulls back to look at me. “Decided what we're going to do today?”
“Mno... Not quite. I'll think about it over breakfast, yeah?” I promise, giving him a quick kiss before getting out of bed. I already have a vague plan, but I'm not sure he's going to like it. Or even go along with it. We throw on some comfy clothes and pad downstairs. I head for the dogs' room to let them out for a wee, while Richard sets about making toast and tea. This has become our morning routine over the past two months since my accident. I've hardly been back at my own house since, just a few times to get my mail or pick up more clothes or bits and pieces. I am still on sick leave, the doctors had insisted on at least 3 to 4 months of complete rest. Just the ribs alone would take up to 12 weeks before they were completely healed, while my collar bone and skull fracture would take 6-8 weeks. But the doctors are extra cautious because I'd had subdural bleeds and a seizure after leaving the hospital. But I'm not complaining over the long downtime, reluctantly admitting that I probably need it as I don't feel quite like myself yet. A few times I've offered to go home for a few days, just to get out of Richard's hair for a bit, but he never lets me. He seems to be unable to let his fears and worries for me go, and has trouble letting me out of his sight. But it's also the good part of being on sick-leave, being able to spend all my time here, enjoying my time with Richard when he isn't away for work, which is less frequent now that the last shoot of the new Top Gear season is over. And we can never get enough of spending time with each other. Leaning against the door frame I watch the dogs absent-mindedly as they run around the yard, thinking about my plan for the day. Having gotten the dogs back inside and sorted out their breakfast, I return to the kitchen where a cup of tea and a slice of toast is waiting for me. Richard has been out to get the newspaper, which he's now rifling through. Taking a bite of my toast, I open my phone and check out today's weather forecast, the weather being something that can ruin my plan. By the looks of things, it isn't going to. Putting down the newspaper, Richard clears his throat and looks at me.
“So? Figured out what we're going to do today?” He prompts, curious and impatient.
“I, um... I was thinking maybe we could go for a bike ride?” I ask, giving him my sweetest puppy-dog eyes. Richard takes a moment to consider this.
“Oh yeah? Think you're up for that?” He gives me a worried look, one I've seen on his face a thousand times since the accident.
“Yeah, I think so. And I don't want to be a passenger, I want to drive a bike on my own!” I clarify. I can tell by the change in Richard's expression that I had been right to expect him to hate the idea.
“Ronja, baby, no...” He sighs, shaking his head, putting the newspaper down. “Two and a half months ago you nearly died. You're just about healed up, and your ribs might actually not be healed completely yet. And you had that seizure, and...”
“Richard, come on!” I cut him off. “I have done nothing but potter around this house and sleep for the past ten weeks. I'm getting really, really bored here. I'm not bored with being with you, I'll never be bored with that, but I'm bored with being cooped up here. I want you and me to go on an adventure again. And I know that I almost died, Richard, trust me, but like I said to you before... That experience made me want to try and live a little before I actually do die.” I reach over the table and squeeze his hand.
“Yeah, I get that, Ronja, and I miss going on adventures with you too, but this is... too soon,” he finishes.
“So... What? You're going to keep me locked up here all tucked away safe for the rest of my life? You nearly died in a crash too, but you still get to race around in all kinds of crazy vehicles, don't you, going on adventures?” I'm not angry with him, I understand his fears, worried something might happen to me again. As much as I have appreciated his fussing over me since the accident, I am starting to become frustrated with being treated like an antique Ming vase. It's so different from how we were before, when we would so often tear around the countryside together on ATVs, bikes or a banged-up old Land Rover, a lot of it while being off-road. Getting mucky, getting stuck, falling over, getting bumps and scrapes, but having the time of our lives.
“No, Ronja, I don't want to lock you up in here, of course I don't, I just...” His voice trails off, knowing that I was getting a little fed up with hearing how worried he was about something happening to me again.
“Richard, you got me into motorcycles in the first place, I'd never even sat on one before I met you. You practically harassed me into even trying driving one,” I point out, remembering the day he first got me to try this light little red Honda motor-cross bike, and I wobbled around in his front yard and driveway for an hour feeling like a five-year-old learning to ride a bicycle, before getting the hang of it. And then I quickly went from having gotten the hang of it, to falling in love with it. Since then I have tried a lot of Richard's bikes, slowly graduating to heavier, faster, more complicated bikes.
“Yes I know, I know, but... Back then I didn't know I was... ” he stops talking again, not quite knowing what he was about to say. “Know that I was going to fall in love with you. And after I realized I had, I tried to convince myself I wasn't worried about you, but I always was.”
“Hammond, if you didn't want me driving motorcycles, why did you buy me a leather bike suit that cost a bloody arm and a leg for my birthday? Not to mention that custom Arai helmet that cost about the same?” I sigh exasperatedly, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Because, I figured that if you insisted on driving about on motorcycles with me, I wanted you to be as safe as possible!” he argues defensively. I just look at him, raising my eyebrows again, trying to persuade him with my eyes to change his mind. “Besides,” he continues after a long moment of us staring at each other. “You still have a few lessons left and an actual driver's exam to pass before you have a license!” He looks at me like he thinks he's won the argument.
“That's a risk I'm willing to take,” I shrug.
“I'm not paying your fine if we get pulled over,” he says stubbornly.
“Of course you're not, I would never have expected you to!” I say loudly, actually feeling a little angry at him for thinking he'd have to pay my fine.
“And you'll get points on a license you don't even have yet!” He continues stubbornly. Having had enough of this argument I get out of my chair, walk around the table and nudge Richard, making him move his chair away from the table so I can sit in his lap. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and run my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, looking at him.
“Hammond...” I sigh, leaning my forehead against his. “We can't just stay in this house forever, thinking we'll be safe from all the dangers in this world. I could fall down the stairs and break my neck. You could have a heart attack tomorrow. Life will happen to us no matter if we sit here in this kitchen or go out there and drive motorcycles. We're not in control of everything in this life, we never will be, and we can't kid ourselves into thinking that we ever will. But we can go out there and have fun, but try to be sensible while doing it?” There is a long moment of silence where all I can hear is the tap tapping of dogs' claws against the tiled floor in the next room.
“Yeah, yeah... I guess...” he sighs eventually, his shoulders sagging, unwilling to admit it.
“You have no idea how much I've loved spending time with you the last 10 weeks, because we're finally together. But, I just... I miss parts of how we were before, before the crash and everything. We weren't afraid of anything, we just went out and did whatever the hell we wanted to, like eager kids and the world was our playground. I have never laughed so much in my life. I need a day of that, of my life feeling somewhat normal and not constantly being about my broken body and brain. Please?” I plead, looking into his eyes. He closes his eyes for a second, then gives a nod.
“Okay, baby. We'll go on a motorcycle ride,” he sighs, giving in, and to my surprise he actually breaks out into a smile at the prospect. “Let's pack a backpack with some food and some blankets to sit on, and we'll go for a long drive and have a picnic somewhere no one will ever think to look for us. Somewhere pretty. Sounds okay?” At this, I break out into a wide smile.
“That's.... exactly what I wanted,” I smile, then give him a grateful, deep kiss. “I promise, I'll be careful. No lairy stuff, just... Cruising along, being careful.”
“Good girl,” he smiles. “I have an idea of where to go.”
“Oh yeah?” I smile happily, relieved now that I know Richard is on board.
“Yeah, we can go out to Brecon Beacons in South Wales. It's two hours from here, good biking roads. And really pretty. I might even know where we could have our picnic,” he smiles, his eyes glittering excitedly. At this I just give him a grateful hug, feeling relieved. He holds me for a while, his hands caressing my back, his breathing slow and steady against my neck. “Okay, so we better get started packing lunch and such?” He suggests. I nod eagerly, incredibly excited about going on an adventure. We both had quick showers, separately for once. Hoping this drive might turn sexy, I put on my favorite dark purple lace knickers and matching lace bra, then put on a fitted t-shirt and tights as bulky clothing never goes well under a leather bike suit. Richard let's the dogs out for another meander and bathroom break, considering we'll be gone for many hours. While he does that, I busy myself with packing food and rummage around the house for lots of blankets to sit on. Having finished with that I close the door to the house, cross the yard and find Richard on one knee in his bike shed, checking something on a bike.
“All right, so what am I driving?” I ask, dropping the packed backpacks to the floor as I enter. I always left that part up to him. He tosses me a quick glance, and he freezes for a minute as he sees my t-shirt, quickly reading the text on it. It's a black one, with a retro-style drawing of a pin-up girl riding a bicycle. 'You would be loud too if I was riding you' was written above and below the drawing.
“What are you wearing?” he exclaims, then starts laughing loudly, but there's something else in his eyes too. A trace of lust.
“A t-shirt? I bought it aaages ago, but I always chickened out on wearing it whenever we went on bike rides,” I admit, almost a little embarrassed. Richard gets up from the floor and approaches me.
“You know, I'm kinda glad you did or I'm sure I would have crashed at some point,” he smirks, leans in, and gives me a kiss. “My brain needs blood to work. Then again... I like it though, very naughty girl vibe. Rawr.” His eyes are glittering, he's turned on all his flirty charm now and I feel my heart beat faster. Thinking I actually want to get out of the shed before we tear the clothes off each other I clear my throat and ask again.
“So, what am I riding? Apart from you later?” I choose this wording on purpose, and Richard's eyebrow shoots up and he gives me a pointed, warning look.
“That,” he says simply, pointing at a black and green Kawasaki Z900.
“That? I haven't seen that before, I think?” I remark, inspecting it more closely. But then again, keeping track of all the vehicles Richard owns at any given time isn't easy. “I know. I bought it a while ago... For you, actually. BUT!" He adds quickly as I whip around to look at him, my mouth open. "That was before the crash,” he finishes pointedly. My mouth still hanging open my gaze slowly trails from him to the bike, and then back again.
“You... what?” I squeak, my eyes wide with surprise and shock.
“Yes, yes, I bought it for you,” he admits with a drone. “But when you had that crash I decided I would never ever give you a bike. Ever.”
“But... when did you buy it?” I ask, still utterly shocked and a little confused.
“Oh I don't remember, it was early in the spring I think, knowing biking season was coming soon. Before we went to Italy. And you were taking your lessons so I thought I might surprise you with it when you got your license. Or something,” he shrugs his shoulders, talking like he'd bought me a pair of leather gloves.
“You went and bought me a bike and we weren't even together?” I give him an incredulous look, still gaping stupidly at him.
“And I would have given it to you even if we weren't. Because watching you riding a bike, and how much fun you were having, was always such a joy. And maybe I was hoping that buying you a motorcycle would make you realize how mad I was about you,” he admits with a shy smile, reaching out for my hand, and I squeeze his in return.
“Richard, you're mad. I can't... You can't just give me a bike,” I protest. “How much was that thing? Fifteen thousand?”
“More like twenty-five,” Richard mumbles, looking at his own fiddling hands. I have known Richard for well over a year now, and I remember it being a culture shock when we first started to hang out together. The huge house, all the fancy cars and bikes, the surprise trip he'd arranged for us in Italy, the expensive watches he wore. I remember thinking at one point 'how many different Barbour-jackets can a man own?' But I had eventually gotten used to it, at least to some extent. Richard hadn't come from money, he'd grown up in a normal middle-class family, and that upbringing had kept him down to earth. The first time he came over to my place I was mortified, it was a tiny linked house with one bedroom and a bathroom the size of a fag packet, but he'd seemed just as at home there as he did in his own house. Which was what made me relax. But I still have a hard time accepting these expensive gifts from him. When he bought me the motorcycle gear for my birthday I thanked him by punching his shoulder and then crying a little. And this was a lot more than a helmet and a leather suit. “It's ultra-light, and a really good bike, it's a good compromise, a good road bike but can do some off-road stuff as well. But please don't, not for another... ten years or so. Oh, and it looks gorgeous, just like you. And yes I can buy you a bike because I already have. And you're just going to have to deal with it.”
“But you said it's not mine, that you wouldn't give me a bike after all?” I point out, approaching the bike, running my hand lovingly across it.
“Mno. It's mine. But it has your name on it.” He makes his way over to me and the bike, and points at the paintwork on top of the gas tank, which says Ronja in flowing, beautiful lettering, the color matching the green on the bike. I look over at Richard and cock my head at him, giving him a grateful look.
“That's so sweet, thank you,” I say quietly, squeezing his hand, trying not to cry. “So, can I take my bike that isn't mine out for a ride now?” I bounce on my feet in childlike, impatient excitement.
“It's not yours, I haven't technically given it to you!” He says tetchily. Whining like a child I point at the letters on the tank of the bike.
“But it has my name on it!” I pout.
“All right, all right, fine. You can take your bike that isn't yours out for a ride.” he sighs, closing his eyes in defeat. I give a loud squeal of joy.
“You're too bloody good to me,” I smile, giving him a hug and a long kiss.
“Just know that if you end up getting hurt or killed on that bike, I will actually die from the guilt,” Richard sighs, looking worried again. Then he rallies, and straightens his shoulders, remembering this was supposed to be a day of fun adventure. He hitches a smile on his face and looks at me. “Go on, suit up, we should get going.” One wall in the bike shed has a long row of hangers, with a shelf over it for shoes and helmets, and I find my black Dainese two-piece leather suit and motorcycle boots, putting it on. I rummage around in a basket full of driving gloves to try and find the left glove, cursing and thinking we'd need to find a system for gloves less messy than this. I pick my purple, custom Arai helmet off a shelf, and turn to Hammond, ready for an adventure. He's already dressed in his biking gear, black leather as well, biking boots and gloves in hand. He approaches me slowly, a rather mysterious look on his face.
“I have a confession to make,” he says, wrapping his arm around my back.
“Oh?” I say, raising an eyebrow at him.
“I didn't buy you that leather suit just to keep you safe.”
“O..kay?” I ask, frowning at him.
“I knew it would keep you safer, but I also bought it because I had a fantasy about how fucking gorgeous and sexy you'd look in it,” he admits, staring at me hungrily. I look at him for a moment, a little surprised.
“Okay, so now I'm in it. Do I come anywhere close to your fantasy?” I ask, squeezing his leather-clad bum just to tease him.
“Oh god, fucking yes, you look even better than I could have imagined,” he says quickly, then takes my lips in a feverish kiss.
“This is gonna be a fun day of adventure, isn't it?” I ask against his lips, and he just hums his agreement, kissing me again. Managing to tear ourselves from each other we each get the keys for our bikes and don our backpacks full of food, drinks, and blankets.
“Just... please be careful, baby. Okay? No wheelies or lairy takeovers or going way over the speed limit? I can't deal with that right now,” he begs.
“I have never done a wheelie in my life! I'm not gonna start now!" I laughed, but he kept looking at me sternly. "I promise, love. I just want to be out on the road and have fun with you, but I'm not gonna be a yobbo.” He smiles at me, looking pleased.
“Good.” I straddle the Kawasaki and gently manoeuvrer it out of the shed, then wait for Hammond. We both had helmets with headphones in them so we could talk to each other or listen to music. Looking at him we were both standing outside the shed, each straddling a bike, our visors open. “You ready?” I ask, and he just nods.
“Okay, you're going to drive ahead of me, so I can keep an eye on you. Don't argue with me on this,” Richard adds quickly, raising a warning hand to me as I open my mouth to protest. But he's making it very clear this isn't up for discussion. “I'll give you directions over the mic, all right?” I nod my understanding. He shuts his visor and so do I, then he gestures at me, and I know he wants to see if I remember how to start a bike. So I put into gear and kick it into life, looking at Richard with a proud face.
“Fucking hell, you're perfect,” he sighs into the microphone, sounding proud of me. Then he kicks his own bike into life. I set off first, and for the first five minutes, I'm panicking a little, thinking this was a mistake. It's a brand new bike, I've never driven it before and I have to figure out the gears and the balance, how it handles. Thankfully, the ability to drive a motorcycle quickly returns to me, and the bike is easy to drive, light and nimble. After about an hour we stopped to have a rest and get something to drink.
“You doing okay?” He asks, that worried look back on his face, even though he's asked me the same thing while we were driving.
“I'm loving it, Hammond,” I smile, taking a swig of my soda. “I really needed this.”
“So nothing hurts?” He niggles. “Your shoulder? Ribs?”
“No, nothing. It's just fun and exciting. I had five minutes of slight panic in the beginning, before I remembered how to drive bikes again. And I've never driven this one, so I had to figure out the handling.”
“Yeah I did notice,” Hammond admits, the worry back in his eyes. “But I decided to be brave and give you a minute to figure it out, and you did, you clever girl.” He breaks out into a smile and he looks a little proud. Inching closer to me on the bench, he gives me a kiss on the head and then on my lips. I quickly look around, slightly worried that someone is going to see us. Richard is recognized everywhere he goes, especially anywhere in the UK, and if someone has seen us it is guaranteed to blow up in the news within the hour. Mindy knows, our friends know, his parents know, but the story hasn't broken to the world yet. We had talked about it, how we would handle it, but Richard wanted to shield me from that whirlwind until I was healed up from the accident. He decided I didn't need that media storm on top of recovering from major trauma, and he is probably right. But I know the day is coming soon, because I'm almost mended. After our tea break we drive for another hour, and I feel more alive than I have done in what feels like years. We drive into Wales, and I love the landscape, not getting enough of it. I don't even need music, I just want to watch. Richard has calmed down now, and he lets me follow him as he leads the way, loving watching the backside of him driving a motorcycle. Eventually, we stop at a lookout point, surrounded by trees, overlooking a lake. “I thought we'd stop here!” Richard's voice says in my earbuds. I just turn off the ignition, thinking he's chosen a beautiful spot. Still sitting on the bike I take my helmet off and hang it on the handlebar, then open my leather jacket. I watch as Richard habitually parks his bike and gets off it, walks a bit away, and opens the backpack, finding the blankets and spreading them out on the grass. He deposits the backpack by the side of the blankets, then makes his way back to me, looking determined.
“Do you know what?” He asks, wrapping his arms around me as I am still straddling the Kawasaki.
“Mno, what?” I admit, cocking my head at him but also wrapping my hands around him.
“Looking at you, riding this bike, in this leather suit, has made me endure an erection for the past three hours,” he grumbles, looking uncomfortable
“I... I'm sorry?” I proffer while trying to choke a giggle.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he says with a low growl. “You looking like this. That t-shirt, the leathers, you driving that bike. It's like my ultimate fantasy.” As he says this, he finds the button and zip of my leather trousers slowly, and then determinedly slips his hand inside, navigating his way passed my black tights and my knickers. Two fingers slide along my slit, finding my clit then start to rub against it, very slowly.
“Richard, fuck, no, not here... What if someone sees us?” I hiss, looking around us to check that we're alone.
“We're in the middle of fucking nowhere, Ronja...” he breathes, his face inches from mine, rubbing my clit a little faster. His fingers are already having an effect on me, my breathing getting heavier, the urge to grind down against his hand rising in me. He leans into me, his lips brushing over mine.
“Does that feel nice?” He whispers huskily.
“Uh-huh, yeah,” I wince, biting my lower lip. I feel myself grinding against his hand and the saddle of the Kawasaki, wanting more. Richard closes the last gap between us and he kisses me as slowly as his fingers are working on me, just teasing. My arms are wrapped around his shoulders, but he still has his leather jacket on, and it feels like a barrier. Still being kissed I undo the zip of his jacket and slide it off his shoulders and down his arms, letting it just fall to the ground. Finally, I can wrap my arms around his shoulder and caress the nape of his neck. His hand down my knickers occupies almost all my attention, and I grind down against his hand again, groaning against his mouth, my breath already ragged.
Suddenly his hand stops, and he pulls away from me.
“Get over here, right fucking now,” he says desperately. I can feel my own wetness on his hand as it closes around mine, and he pulls me off the bike, dragging me towards the blankets. He slides my leather jacket off, then he pulls both my leather trousers and black tights past my hips and down, until I can step out of them and kick them away.
“Richard, what if someone comes here?” I ask again in between frantic kisses.
“I don't really fucking care. No one's gonna find us here anyway,” he assures me again, pulling my t-shirt up over my head and tossing it to the side. He leans away from me a little and scans my body slowly. “You wanted this to happen, didn't you? At least you hoped it would, since you decided to wear that today,” he says, staring at the matching lace panties and bra. I pull him close by grabbing his t-shirt, and I lean close to him, hovering over his mouth.
“Mmmmaybe...?” I whisper in the most innocent voice I can conjure, and he smirks as he sees right through me. I kiss him hungrily as I undo his leather trousers and pull them and the baselayer he had underneath off. “Bike riding requires too many fucking clothes,” I huff impatiently as I make quick work of taking his t-shirt off.
“Come here,” Richard says, pulling me down with him onto the blanket. Sitting upright he slips his arms around me and finds the back of my bra, fiddling for a second to undo it. Then he slowly slides the straps off my shoulders with a tender touch, removing the bra completely.
“Lie down,” I say simply, pushing on his chest, forcing him backward. He does as I want, and peers at me expectantly. Still sitting next to him I lean towards him a little, place my hand on his stomach and let it slide down over his boxers, palming his erection firmly, staring into his eyes all the while. A moan of relief escapes Richard as he finally feels me touch him, obviously having been a little tortured in his tight leather pants today. Without saying anything I pull at the elastic on his boxers, and he raises his bum enough for me to pull them down over his hips and off him. I drape my body along his, missing the heat of his body, and he wraps an arm around my back. Resting my head on his shoulder I kiss him deeply, and my hand seeks out his erection again, my palm closing around him. Slowly, teasingly I begin working on him, getting my revenge for how slow he'd been with me earlier. He bucks his hips a little, and pushes himself into my hand impatiently, wanting more friction.
“Ron, I've been teased and tortured enough today,” he growls against my lips. His free hand shoots to my knickers, trying to tug them downwards, which turns out to be a challenge with just one hand.
“Here,” I say, letting go of his cock to help him get them past my hips. Knickers out of the way I lie down next to him again, kissing him deeply, relishing the feel of my naked body against his.
“Come here,” Richard says determinedly, wrapping his arm around my lower back and pulling me on top of him. Straddling him, I support myself on my arms, my forehead against Richard's. I grind down against him a few times, and he gives a relieved moan as he finally feels some friction, fingers digging into my hips.
“This is what I always wished would happen on any and every bike ride of ours,” Richard says huskily, grinding his hard cock against my mound. I grind back down against him, feeling that fire of lust in the pit of my stomach. I feel as frantic as he does now, the situation we're in heightens all of my senses. We're outside, in nature, and we are running the risk of someone stumbling upon us at any time. Yet here we are, buck naked together, and that thought is thrilling.
“Fuck, baby,” I moan, grinding down against him again over and over.
“I need to be inside you,” Richard slurs, and with a hand he guides himself inside me.
“Oh fuck, good!” I cry, feeling him fill me up. I lay still for a moment, just savoring the feeling of being connected with him. Slowly, I begin moving my hips, rocking against him. He blindly finds my mouth and starts kissing me hungrily, moaning with pleasure every now and then. All shyness and fear of someone seeing us completely forgotten, I sit up straight and then resume riding him, knowing Hammond loves this view. Every now and then I change the angle of how I move against him, sometimes I raise my hips and let him thrust in and out of me, sometimes I just rock and grind against him. It is the middle of august and slightly overcast, and straddling Hammond, away from the warmth of his body, I feel the cold air against me, my nipples going hard. “Wait, baby, give me a second,” I plead, slowing to a halt. Looking around us I find my biker leather jacket, putting it on to warm my icy-cold nipples. I begin rocking on him again, a little more slowly and considerate now, enjoying every moment of it. His hands are on my hips, controlling my pace. And then suddenly Richard's hands clamp on my hips, making me stop again.
“Baby, wait...” he huffs.
“Why?” I ask, feeling frustrated at another interruption. I just want to ride him, find our orgasms. Him still inside me, he fumbles around us, but eventually finds his phone, showing it to me.
“You, naked, with that leather jacket, is seriously the sexiest thing I've ever seen. And I want to remember you like this for the rest of my life. So I want to take a picture of you. Of us,” he admits, holding up his phone, almost looking a little insecure.
“Really?” I huff, grinding down against him once again, teasing him.
“Fuck yes,” he moans.
“Do whatever you want,” I groan, beginning to grind down on his hard cock again. Even this felt thrilling, being taken pictures of like this. No one had ever taken a picture of me naked or while having sex in my entire life, and I thought no one ever would. I hear the shutter of the phone going off several times as I ride him, me groaning my pleasure. “Did you get any good ones?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him as I look into his eyes, my hips still moving.
“Fuck yes... But please, baby... touch yourself,” he begs, and completely unable to refuse him my hand drops down to my clit, beginning to work on myself. My eyes closed now, I just ride Hammond's cock, him rocking up against me and me rubbing hard against my clit. I heard several more shutter clicks from the phone. “God, you're so hot...” Richard groans, me still grinding on his cock and rubbing on my own clit. The photo session must be over now, because I feel both of Richard's hands back on my thighs, caressing them. I place my hands over his, caressing his hands with my thumbs. There are no more distractions now, and I turn all my focus into what my hips are doing, grinding down against him. Needing more friction I lean forwards, supporting my weight on my arms, vaguely appreciating that my clavicle doesn't seem to mind anymore. I can feel that intense itch of anticipation inside me, just chasing that thrust that would send me over the edge and make everything explode. Richard's arms are clamped around my lower back in a vice-like grip, his hips are bucking up to meet my thrusts. I know by the sounds he's making and by the sharp, frantic way he's moving that he's just as close as me. Leaning down even further I feel my breasts press up against his chest as I kiss his neck.
“Come on, baby, I thought me riding you would make you louder than this,” I breathe heavily into his ear. I'm riding him harder now, and my hot words in his ear make him groan louder than he has before. “You're gonna make me come, baby,” I breathe again. “You're gonna make me come so hard.” My voice went up in pitch with those last words, as I sense the orgasm is only a few thrusts away. Finally, with a sharp thrust, I am sent over the edge, intense pleasure cascading through me. I moan and wail against Richard's neck, louder than I ever have allowed myself to be with him before. Hoping the orgasm won't recede just yet, I keep grinding hard down against him, prolonging the pleasure but also chasing Richard's orgasm now. Suddenly his hips stop moving for a few seconds, his arms let go of my lower back and he digs his fingers hard into my shoulders.
“Fuck, Rooon!” He groans as he comes inside me, and I keep moving my hips through his orgasm, hoping maybe I could prolong his too. When Richard relinquishes his grip on my shoulders, I collapse down next to him, and we're both breathing hard and fast. He turns on his side to face me and snakes his arm under my head and wraps it around my back, the other he wraps around my waist, pulling me close. I slip a leg between his and wrap my arm around him, wanting to be as close to him as possible. We lay entangled like this for a while, caressing each other's backs as our breathing and heart rates slowly goes back to normal. My eyes are closed, and suddenly I'm surprised by a long, deep kiss on my lips. “That was fucking amazing,” Richard whispers against my lips, and I receive another grateful kiss.
“Mhmm,” I hum, words still beyond me. “Hammond, do we have another blanket or something with us, I'm getting cold,” I say after a while. I don't want to get dressed yet, I want to lay naked against Richard for a while longer, but now that I'm just lying here still and slightly sweaty, I'm getting chilled quickly.
“Hm, maybe,” he says, and begins fumbling behind him for the backpack. Luckily we have another blanket with us, and he drapes it around both of us.
“This way we're at least somewhat decent if someone stumbles over us,” I smirk and kiss the tip of his nose.
“Yeah, but our clothes are scattered everywhere around us in a 4-foot radius, so it doesn't take a genius to suss out we're naked under here,” he chuckles. I sigh happily and squeeze Richard tight, and in that instance absolutely everything in my life is perfect. Despite lying on the ground with just a blanket for a mattress. For a while we're silent, just slowly caressing each other, savoring the moment.
“So, have you been horribly worried about me when we were driving? Are you dreading the drive home?” I ask, looking up at him. He runs a hand down my back and sighs.
“Mno, not as bad as I thought. I mean, I'm worried, but... it's like you said, we can't just hide away in that house for the rest of our lives. And I have to trust you and your driving. And you're a good driver. But I'll be happier when you actually have your license,” he adds, pinching the skin at my side a few times, knowing this tickles. I squeak and tense up, preparing for more pinches.
“Richard, quit that right now, I have my leg in between yours, I could knee you in the plums through no fault of my own!” I warn. This makes him stop instantly. Instead, he resumes caressing my back slowly.
“But please, Ronja, can you think up some adventures that are a bit less dangerous next time? I don't mean to lock you up, but I can't deal with this kind of worry every day of the week,” he pleads.
“All right, baby, I will,” I promise, cupping his face in my hand and giving him a long, loving kiss, my thumb brushing over his cheek. Resting back down on his shoulder, I nuzzle his neck and give a happy sigh. Silence falls again for a while.
“What are you thinking about?” Richard asks quietly after a while, kissing my forehead tenderly.
“Well, I'm doing what you asked, I'm trying to think of “safer” adventures we can do,” I explain, raising one hand to make a lonely quotation mark in the air.
“And?” He prompts. “Is it something sexy?” Richard's eyebrow shoots up and he looks at me in a suggestive manner.
“Mno... Well, depends on what floats your boat I guess,” I smirk, pinching his nipple and he giggles a goofy laugh. “How about we.. build a car? Like a kit car or something? You and me? Just a simple thing.” At this, there is a stunned silence.
“What? Really?” he squeaks in disbelief.
“Yeah! I mean... I know some very basic things about cars. Like how it needs air together with fuel to work, a dynamo to keep the charge up on the battery, and a working radiator and radiator coolant to keep it cool, that you have to bleed the brake lines when you change brake fluid...”
“Ronja, stop, I'm getting a hard-on again,” Richard complains, but very half-heartedly.
“Anyway, I know bits and pieces, but I wish I knew more. About simple cars, just like a basic petrol one with a simple gearbox.”
“Are you serious or just yanking my chain?”
“No I'm not! It would be like building Lego, only... massive!”
“You build Legos?” Hammond asks, sounding even more confused.
“Not lately, but yeah, I used to, quite a lot. When I was studying, if I was stressing out about it, especially exams, and needed a break I bought a massive Lego kit. Like the Millennium Falcon or a NASA space rocket...”
“I love you for that, because I know what to give you for Christmas now, but... How did you get this idea?”
“Remember those shows with Mark Evans on telly? The veterinarian? He built a car, and a bike, and a plane? I watched that thinking I'd love to have a go at that, it looked like a lot of fun! And that E-type he rebuilt was sexy!” Having said this, I am met with another moment of silence. Eventually, Richard squeezes me closer to him, giving me a kiss on the forehead.
“Yeah I remember those shows. Mark is a good guy. All right, the first thing I'm doing when we get back home is getting a kit car. And you and I are going to build it in our shed and I'm going to have the time of my life.” Home. Our shed? These words leap out at me, and I wonder if it was a slip of the tongue. Richard distracts me from these thoughts by squeezing me against him.
“Wow, I really hit the jackpot with you, didn't I,” he sighs, kissing my temple.
“Really? You don't think I'm really weird or just a tomboy who's really just a very closeted lesbian?” I muse, and at this Richard laughs loudly.
“You're definitely not a closeted lesbian,” he snorts. “You are kind of a tomboy, but that's one of the many, many things I love about you.” For these words, I give Richard a grateful kiss.
“Hm, maybe James can help out with that kit car too, if he wants to,” I suggest after a while, knowing that this is exactly his sort of thing too. And that I would probably slow it down immensely by knowing diddly squat.
“Oh hell no. If you're going to be in the garage, covered in motor oil, handling spanners and socket wrenches... I'm not sharing that porn with James, I'm keeping that all to myself!” I chuckle and shake my head slightly at him, running my fingers through his hair.
“All right, fine,” I sigh and roll my eyes. A ping sounds from Richard's phone, and I suddenly remember the little photo session we had earlier. I raise myself up on my elbow and look down at Richard, his hair a mess, a content smile on his face. “By the way, did you get any good pictures earlier?” I raise an eyebrow at him, then look over at his phone lying beside him.
“Yeah, I did...” He answers, picking up his phone. “Wanna see?” He smirks like a naughty schoolboy.
“I'm not sure I want to,” I admit, biting my lower lip, feeling insecure. “I have never seen a naked picture of myself.”
“Hey,” he says sternly, poking me in the back with a hard finger. “I told you that you were the sexiest thing I'd ever seen, right? And I bloody meant it.”
“All right, let me have a look,” I sigh, feeling the blush creeping up my neck. Richard opens his photo folder, scrolls a little and hands it over to me. My face flushes hot when I see the first image, and I swallow hard. And to my own immense surprise I don't hate the way I look. Slowly I scroll through the images, and when I see the ones where I'm touching myself too, I actually think they look hot. I have that leather jacket on, but it's hanging open, my hair is cascading down over one shoulder and my eyes are closed with pleasure, my hand between my own legs. It's obvious I am completely oblivious to the world around me, I'm completely lost in me and Richard. The fact that you can see our bikes in the background doesn't hurt either. Without a word, I hand the phone back to Richard.
“See? Sexiest thing in the world,” Hammond persists.
“I don't hate them, actually,” I admit with a shy shrug. “But you better keep those pictures under lock and key, Hammond. If you accidentally airdrop one of those to James or something I am going to kill you.”
“Oh, don't worry, I'm definitely not sharing that porn with James either,” he smirks, pulling me in for a kiss.
“Also, do you know what else gave me the idea of building a kit car?” I mumble against his lips.
“Mm what?” He mumbles lazily.
“I remember that episode when you guys built that Caterham, racing the Stig driving a finished one from London.”
“Really, did you see that?” He asks, looking surprised. “That was aaages ago.”
“Yeah, I did! I've watched Top Gear quite a bit. Which is why I sometimes wonder how the hell I ended up in Top Gear land with you and everyone else.”
“That is really weird. You kinda knew me way before I knew you,” Richard muses, a slight frown on his face.
“Yeah, I know. Maybe that's why it was so easy for me to talk to you. I'm a nurse so I pretend to be sociable and extrovert, but I'm really not. But I kinda felt like I already knew you a bit, so it was so easy to talk to you. If I had never seen you before I probably would've been a lot shyer.”
“And do you know why I went over to talk to you in the first place? That first day we met properly?” Hammond asks.
“No? We've never talked about this, have we?” I say with an excited smile. “About when we first met and started talking. I seem to remember you came up to me wondering if I was hypnotized or high on drugs because I was staring at that DB9 for an ungodly amount of time?” I smirk.
“That was a stupid thing to say, I was trying to be funny... I came up to you because I had seen you around on set and I couldn't forget you. I thought that you were absolutely gorgeous, and if you were staring at that car because you loved it, I just had to get to know you.”
“Really, you'd noticed me before you talked to me that day?”
“Yes, of course! I remember seeing you on that first meeting we had on the set that season and... I wanted to talk to you ever since, I was forever trying to find the right time,” he smiles, blushing a little. At this I can't help but laugh, hiding my face in my hands as I remember the first day we met.
“Bloody hell, I felt so embarrassed that day you first talked to me, I wanted the ground to swallow me up,” I admit. “I ranted and babbled at you like an idiot, and I thought I better avoid you for the rest of my internship at Top Gear.”
“No, you didn't? You were just being honest, and really excited about a car, and I really liked that. And I wanted to just get to know you more above anything else. Which is why I had to take you out in that DB9. I just wanted to give you a good memory.”
“And you did... And to be honest... Spending that time with you in the car is an even better memory than actually being in that DB9. I was smitten with the car, but I got even more smitten with you,” I admit.
“Good. That was sort of the idea,” he says with a wide, proud grin.
“Well it worked!” I laugh.