Max stays behind with Simmons.

Paul Gibbons got into his squad car and drove off. Max was now left standing under the bridge with Simmons. He looked at her, that annoying grin that she had grown to despise again plastered on his face.

"You really did a number on my arm, being around you is dangerous and yet I can't get enough, huh?"

"First you fuck up my face, then you sprain my wrist and dislodge my shoulder. I wore an arm brace for a week."

Max ignored him and headed to her bike. She swung her leg over it the kicked down staring it up, the engine revving to life.

"Hold up Max, I got here with Captain Gibbons", he looked down the road in the direction Gibbons had driven in. "You gonna have to give me a ride, you know."

Max stared at him silently, she didn't like the way he said that.

"Whatever."

Simmons walked over and got on the motorcycle behind her. He pushed his crotch into her leather clad ass. Max gave out a soft groan. She quickly remembered the dirty little dreams she had had of Simmons, dreams that were filled with raw erotic passion and of steamy sex, leaving her in a pair of soaking panties every mourning. Her body shuddered.

Simmons moved his hand around her waist then slipped them underneath her vest. He groped then kneaded her pert breasts thru her bra. Max sighed loudly before taking in a sharp breath.

"Why don't you turn off the engine?"

"No", Max moaned.

"Do I have to start the threats Max?"

"No", she purred, "I like the hum of the engine between my legs."

"Why you little kinky slut" Whatever you want baby."