To her absolute horror and her utter amazement, he put her wounded finger in his mouth. And sucked. An astonished breath shuddered out of her as sensation rippled through her body, from her finger in the warm, secure captivity of his mouth, to places it was polite not to mention.
"Better?" he asked.
She huffed.
If only...
"Good to see you've got your fighting spirit back." He smiled as he turned away. "Coming?" he invited.
Don't, she warned her rampant imagination.
Remounting his monstrous machine, he patted the thickly padded leather seat behind him. "What do you have to lose?" he murmured.
He had no idea.
"Grab a hold..."
Was he serious? Mounting the machine was one thing, but now she was supposed to wrap her arms around a mountain of muscle clad in a fine cotton top? She hadn't been this close to a man—a real man...since, like, forever.
"Come on," he pressed, revving the engine to a throaty roar.
Inching closer, she tentatively did as he said. It was like embracing a beautifully carved pillar of warm marble.
"Lean your head against my back..."
Lean her—
"Fuuuuck!" The breath shot out of her lungs as G–force hit her in the back. The speed as he took off was sensational, and exhilarating—the vibrations beneath her, too intimate to describe. She didn't dare to examine her fantasies where the man she was hanging on to was concerned, other than to say he looked even better in the sunshine than the rain—and far better on a monster bike than in his sleek, sophisticated muscle car. He was a real man now, rugged and sexy, the type she'd always dreamed about, before Harold had changed her perception of men.
She surprised herself by loving every minute of the ride, though it took her a few seconds to have the courage to open her eyes, by which time they were close to breaking the sound barrier. Lifting her head, she thrilled at the speed and the pressure of the wind as they cut through it. Her life had been so rigidly structured, that this was absolutely crazy. It was the most amazing feeling she'd ever had. She was free!
She was free!
Closing her eyes, she smiled, realizing she was confident in him, and could maybe relax her death grip around his waist a little. When she did open her eyes she noticed everything about him...the waves of strong black hair escaping his helmet, the tan of his neck, the impossibly wide spread of his shoulders, and his tight, muscular thighs gripping the sides of the machine. He was shielding her with his body, and she had never been shielded before. She knew it was temporary—dangerous, even—and what if someone saw her—what if Harold saw her?
"Okay, honey?"
She gave a start, and then realized that he was speaking to her through the microphone in her helmet. "Fine, thank you," she said primly, tightening up again. She might be enjoying herself, but she knew this was wrong.
"Just tell me when you've had enough."
Never?
"I will," she promised.
This was so amazing. She hadn't done anything like it before. They were heading for the lakeside, where the shrubbery was lush and the trees were bound close together. The greenery created an enchanted dell through which a crystal cool stream bubbled and gurgled over smooth, timeworn rock. It was possibly the most magical place on earth—or she had always thought so. Imagine him knowing just where to look for such a place.
He stopped the bike and dismounted. She stared at the hand he was holding out.
"You don't need my help?" He shrugged. "Okay—"
"No. I do. Thank you," she said politely.
He didn't just give her a hand off the bike, he lifted her off the bike, and then he held her in front of him. She was so sure he was going to kiss her that her heart started beating faster than a hummingbird's wings.
Lifting off her helmet, he set it down on the saddle behind him. And then, to her astonishment, he removed the band from her long red hair and ran his fingers through the tangles until it floated around her shoulders like a fiery cloud.
"Beautiful," he murmured, smiling that faint, curving smile.