Page 9 of Biker's Temptation
I gulped around the sudden ball of emotion blocking my throat.Glancing away, I muttered, “My ex didn’t think so.”
“We’ve already established he was a psycho so I don’t think his opinion matters.”
“Narcissist,” I corrected.“There’s a difference.”
“Whatever.”Shane crunched another bite of his popsicle.He reminded me so much of the kids at school, so eager to enjoy something cold and sweet instead of savoring it slowly.“I’m a felon, but you’ve been nothing but good to me.You brought me into your house.You fed me.”He took another bite of his popsicle and let it melt on his tongue.“You’re a good woman.Kind.Compassionate.You ask me that’s exactly what a mother should be.”
I couldn’t explain it, but his compliments touched me so deeply.I blinked rapidly, refusing to cry or get emotional.He didn’t say anything else.He let me sit with my feelings as we quietly enjoyed our dessert.
“So—what were you and your book club doing at Margie’s?”he asked as I placed the popsicle molds and the reusable holders into the dishwasher.
My cheeks heated as I confessed, “We spent the summer reading biker romances.It was Becky’s turn to pick the location for our monthly social.She thought it would be fun to go to a real biker bar, kinda like the heroines in some of our favorite reads this summer.”
“Uh-huh.”His expression was a mix of mirth and concern.“And how did you expect that to turn out?”
“Well, to be brutally honest,” I shut the dishwasher door and wiped my hands on the dishtowel Jacie had embroidered for me, “exactly the way it did when you hit that man with a pool cue.”
He cringed.“That is not the first impression I wanted to make.”
“I don’t know.It was actually pretty hot,” I said without thinking.I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth, but when I looked up at him, he was smirking in a way that was, well, pretty hot.
“Part of the book fantasy?”he guessed.
“Maybe,” I replied cagily as he slowly walked toward me.
“What else happens in those books?”
The sexual tension between us had been simmering from the moment we spotted each other.It had been a low thrum in the background as we enjoyed an easy dinner, but now that thrum was pounding and building.
I had a choice here.I could play off the question, say something silly to ease the tension and lower the temperature, or I could open the door wider, invite him to get a little closer.
“Well, usually, the woman ends up having life changing sex that leads to some kind of kinky midlife awakening and then there’s a whirlwind romance,” I answered truthfully.
He grinned as he advanced on me, and my heart raced.“You looking to have your life changed, darlin’?”
“You offering?”I breathed in shakily, my body trembling with excitement and desire.
“Might be.”
My knees weakened at the sight of his confident swagger.He closed the distance between us, and I gazed up at him, feeling both uncertain and needful.We stared at each other for a long moment before he finally made a move.He grasped my waist in one big hand, dragging me tight to his hard body, and slipped his other hand into my hair.He tangled his fingers in my dark tresses and tipped my head back, lifting my mouth into the perfect position.
I whimpered as his lips touched mine.He didn’t rush things.He kissed me chastely, tenderly, and let me acclimate to this new intimacy.I gripped his leather vest in both hands, holding on for dear life as he started to move his lips against mine.
My head spun when his tongue flicked against the seam of my mouth, silently seeking entrance.There was no holding back the desperate sound that escaped my throat when his tongue tangled with mine.He tasted of watermelon, mint and lime, and I couldn’t get enough of him.
Jesus.This man can kiss.
I don’t know what I’d expected but it wasn’t this.He was so unhurried, so focused on the pleasure.I tried not to compare him to my ex, but it was impossible not to do it.All those years I had practically begged Cade to slow down, to wait, to give me some real foreplay.My own husband hadn’t known me well enough to understand my body, but this man I had known for less than two hours read my signals like a professional.
I didn’t fight when he pressed me toward the counter, slow walking me as our mouths mated in a heated lust.He bent slightly, his hands sliding down my body to the backs of my thighs.He clasped my legs and lifted me off the ground, proving his strength for the second time tonight.
When he deposited me on the cold granite slab, I shoved at his vest, trying to work it off his shoulders.He let his arms drop so I could pull it away from his body.Certain it was important to him, I carefully placed it on the counter next to us, not wanting it to fall on the floor.He offered a soft smile at that and then his lips were on mine again, kissing me hungrily.
His greedy hands slipped under my shirt.His callused fingertips moved over my skin, leaving a trail of fire that had me gasping against his open mouth.I returned the favor, sneaking my hands under his tee.I almost fainted at the sensation of his muscled, hairy torso.Men built from years of hard, physical labor were my absolute weakness.
“Take these off,” he growled, jerking at the button fly of my jeans.
Torn out of the hazy lust of our make-out session, I hesitated.Not wanting to shatter the intense romance of the moment, I nevertheless admitted, “I don’t have any condoms.”
