head to one side, she smiled up at him.
“It’s terribly hot inside.”
He proffered an open bottle of beer. She’d been so focused on the rest of him, she hadn’t even noticed his hands. They were big, solid hands, with long, tapered fingers.
“Want a sip?”
Her heart fluttered madly. His voice was deep and gravelly. Sexy, like the rest of him. “Sure. Thanks.”
Their hands touched.
Hot and wild, a surge of energy flowed through her. Leigh tried not to shiver at that contact. The pads of his fingers were rough and callused from working at the garage, not baby soft like Nolan’s.
Taking the bottle, she put her mouth where his had been. The sensation was deliciously naughty. From somewhere came the courage to look him in the eye as she took a long swallow. The beer trickled down her dry throat, icy cold.
She sensed approval as his gaze slipped away to travel the length of her throat, then lingered on the swell of her breasts. Her nipples tightened along with the rest of her. A prickly restlessness enveloped her.
The moon skittered behind a wispy cloud, plunging his features into deeper shadow. As she handed him back the bottle, she dared a tiny caress over his knuckles.
Gavin studied her with dark, unfathomable eyes. With deliberate slowness, he raised the neck of the bottle and covered its mouth with his lips. Tilting the neck back, he took a long, slow drink.
Leigh couldn’t tear her gaze away. She followed the path of the liquid down his throat, feeling as if that mouth was on her rather than on the bottle in his hand.
His eyes stared deeply into hers. “Want to take a ride?”
He gestured toward a sleek black motorcycle waiting in the shadows beside the pickup truck.
Her body hummed with energy. The prickling sensation centered itself between her legs, charging her with unbearable excitement. Her fantasy was coming to life. Did she have the nerve to see it through?
She strove to mimic her sister’s easy tone, smiling with false confidence. “Sure. Why not?”
“I don’t have an extra helmet,” he cautioned. “That fancy hairdo of yours is going to get messed.”
“Not if I take it down first.”
The brazen words seemed to have a life of their own. So did her hands as they reached for the clip holding the carefully styled mass of hair on top of her head. His sensual hunger was tangible, bonding them together in the night. He watched every motion through heavy-lidded eyes.
Freed, the golden-brown mass spilled over her shoulders and down her back. Her fingers threaded the strands as he watched. She trembled when his hand came up, reaching out to lift a section and rub it between those long callused fingers. His eyes went darker still, with unmistakable desire.
Leigh couldn’t breathe.
“Come on,” he said abruptly.
She had never been on a motorcycle in her life. Amazingly, she slid behind him as though she’d been doing it all her life.
“Hold on to me,” he told her.
The buzzing in her head was almost welcome as she wrapped her arms around his trim waist. The tingly feeling became a burning ache of need. They took off with a deafening roar.
Hair whipped around her face, tossing streamers behind as they raced along the twisty road. Her fingers tightened spasmodically around him, but she quickly found the rhythm of moving with his body and the bike. Wind whistled in her ears as trees rushed past. Her fingers sought a better grip, brushing his zipper. He was aroused.
Part of her registered that fact in shock, but the shock was quickly overwhelmed by a yearning she had never experienced before. Tentatively, her fingers traced that bulge, feeling it swell and pulse.
A tiny core of sanity screamed in alarm. Her body no longer listened. It was as if she was acting under dictates she had no control over. She pressed an openmouthed kiss against the shirt on his back. The bike swerved slightly as he reacted.
Gavin steered them down a side road. More of a path, really. She had no idea where they were. She didn’t care. Touching him had become a drug of liberation.
They tore up the narrow dirt road, raising a plume of dust around them. Leigh closed her eyes. She slid her hands wantonly over his bare skin. Nothing had ever felt this incredible. He was hard planes and supple skin and she was breathing fast and shallow when he pulled the bike into a copse of trees and stopped. He came off the bike in a smooth motion, then whisked her off before she knew what he was doing. She stood on legs of rubber as he crushed her against his body. His mouth sought hers in a kiss that demanded a total response.
And she gave it, kissing him back with a fervor that astonished the tiny portion of her brain still functioning. She felt branded as his tongue plunged into her mouth, mimicking an action her body seemed to crave. He tasted of cigarettes and beer, with a subtle hint of peppermint, of all things.
It took her several seconds to realize tiny, animal sounds of need were issuing from her throat. She couldn’t get enough of the feel and taste of him. She wanted more. Her body seemed to be catapulting her toward some precipice, demanding that she hurry.
She uttered a small cry of protest when he pulled back. His eyes gleamed, dark and hot and wild like the night. His teeth glinted in the dancing moonlight as he smiled.
“Slow down, baby, we’ve got all the time in the world.”
But she couldn’t slow down. She wanted to scream at him to hurry. Yet the only sound she seemed capable of making was a ridiculous, yearning whimper. He yanked a blanket from his saddlebag and spread it in the clearing. Her brain felt muzzy and disoriented, yet the incredible need continued to build inside her, overwhelming conscious thought.
“You’re going to burn me alive, looking at me like that.”
Yes! Exactly! She was burning with a need only he could satisfy. “Hurry. Please.”
He grinned wickedly. “I intend to do both.”
His mouth claimed hers in a hot, wet duel as he drew them down on the thin blanket. Every fiber of her was on fire. Grass pricked at her skin through the thin material, acting as yet another spur to the incredible tension stretching inside her.
Leigh never felt his deft fingers bare her breasts to the night sky. She was lost in a tidal wave of sensations that pushed her ever closer to the waiting precipice. Then his mouth closed over one nipple. She free-fell in shudders of exhilaration.
Dimly, she heard his sound of satisfaction. “Sing for me, baby.”
She should have been mortified to know he watched her lose control. But he gave her no time to recover. Using that incredibly talented mouth, he set about igniting the fire all over again. Her mouth, the sensitive skin of her throat, nibbling on an earlobe until she quivered. With a low sound of satisfaction, he set a new path with his lips, placing light kisses along her throat, her collarbone, her breast, until he could draw the nipple deeply into his mouth. Her body arched in supplication.
A
