Page 12 of Savage Temptation
Jagger angles his head and speaks over his shoulder.
“She thinks I got her partner and lover killed three years ago…”
“You did,” the detective cuts in sharply.
“... and has taken to making my life miserable ever since,” Jagger continues before he turns over the motor.
And then I can’t hear anything for the roar of the beast between my legs as we tear out of the side alley.
4
EMILIA
We fly down the road and leave the lights of New Orleans behind within minutes. Moonlight reflects off wet asphalt from an earlier rain. Humidity clings to the air despite it being so late in the year. Sweet wafts of magnolia, decaying foliage, and hints of wood smoke from someone’s fire lingers here and there as we make our way deeper into the night.
For the first time in five years, it’s just me and him.
Jagger and Emilia.
Two names meant to be linked forever. At least that is how I used to think.
It’s easy to focus on the menial details of the past and my surroundings when all my heart wants me to pay attention to are other important facts. For example, like how the powerful vibrations from the bike work into every muscle in my body. It’s both relaxing and causing other reactions I didn’t expect. I tighten my arms around Jagger’s middle and pull in closer until the insides of my thighs are firmly pressed against his body.
Like this, the friction of his jeans and the subtle movements of the bike combine to stimulate me in ways I should not entertain.
I can feel his muscles ripple beneath my palms as he revs the motor, sending us roaring down the road. This morning I woke up dead inside with little to live for. Fifteen minutes in the presence of Jagger and I no longer have an unhealthy urge to find the nearest alligator infested waters.
A little morbid, but I’m just being honest. I know he can send me on my way tomorrow after he hears about the trouble I’m bringing. And yet, the protective hand he rests over mine feels like an unspoken promise.
The insanity of how tonight has turned out plays through my mind. So much so, I’m not paying much attention to where we are going until the streetlights become far and few between. There is a faint haze of fog lingering over the asphalt. Our headlight slices through the haze. In the distance, flickers of neon signs from roadside bars cut through the night.
The throaty hum of the bike throttles down when Jagger slows and points us down a single-lane road. I mentally scramble to recall how far out Haven is from the city. We are not there yet if memory serves.
Good, because I’m not ready to face anyone else just yet.
The sudden crackle of gravel under the tires replaces the roar of the motor and wind in my ears. Moving deeper down the road, it doesn’t take long at all before Spanish moss blurs the line between asphalt and the dirt road. Distant croaks of frogs and crickets welcome us when Jagger kills the engine. He pulls my legs up and wraps them around his middle. I sit like this just soaking in each other’s energy for several minutes. Gentleshivers work over my exposed skin when he turns a fraction and pulls me around to straddle his lap.
“Come here, baby. Let me get you warm.”
Gunmetal gray meets shocked green. “We need to talk, Jagger.” My voice shakes and I’m more than a little breathless. But I can’t put this off any longer. Oliver will find me. It’s only a matter of time. His connection in this city runs far and deep. That goes for Chicago and New York City. His wealth and greed has made a lot of people money. He picks up the phone and people jump to his will.
His hands roam over my skin.
“Jagger,” I say more firmly but again he’s not having it
“Shh, baby. I know, but give us right now before the chaos takes over.”
It’s way too easy to get distracted by the feel of his body heat moving over my chilled skin. And the way his large hands feel caressing my arms before moving to settle over my exposed thighs has my mind wanting him to do more. Like he did back at the Voodoo Lounge. The heat we could generate would do wonders against the night air.
In contrast, the feathers do nothing to hide much from the imagination or provide warmth when they are fully intact. Right now, they look like I dipped myself in a pool and promptly stuck my finger in a wall socket.
I pull back and move to get off his lap and the bike so I can think about more than just how good he feels.
“Mm, no. You’re staying right here, baby,” he sounds off, making me wish I could see his full face and read his thoughts better. Butthere’s too little moonlight and far too many shadows for that to happen.
“You’re right.” he continues. “We need to talk, but first I need something else. And I think you do too.”
Jagger laces his fingers together at the base of my neck and pulls me in until our breath mingles and the tips of my nipples press against his chest. I’m effectively locked in place. He growls with a hunger I instantly recall when I reach inside his biker cut and go for the hem of his shirt. My palms run over warm, smooth skin. He kept in shape and honed every inch of his back and abs into chiseled muscle.
