by Cathryn Cade
So, when invited to come out with them after their final day of training, he'd headed home, cleaned up, and driven down there only to find that the two other men and one woman had all brought dates, leaving him the odd man out.
Being an outgoing guy who loved to shoot the shit, Mac had no problem with this. He accepted their teasing about flying solo with easy laughter and chatted with all of them for a while. But when one couple grew amorous and left, another pair headed out onto the dance floor, and the remaining couple started squabbling about whether their damn dog should be allowed to sleep on the bed, Mac eased away on the pretext of using the john.
He'd been about to finish his beer and head out to the Flyers’ clubhouse, when he looked across the crowded club and saw a pretty blonde laughing with two other girls. And bam, the sight of her hit him square in the solar plexus.
Damn, she was pretty. All long blonde curls and sweet curves in a pair of snug, bootcut jeans and a lacy little black top that made him want to eat her up, starting with her mouth, then those round tits, and finally her pussy, which he'd bet was sweet, wet, and musky.
When she smiled shyly back at him, he headed straight across the bar to her. And now, here he was, with a nice girl, one who was blushing as he grinned at her—which he found himself doing, because she was the cutest thing he'd seen in a while.
He turned her on, he could tell by the way her breath caught when he got close, and the way her big, brown eyes dilated when she looked at him. And how she gazed at him, like he was a present she'd been waiting for and really wanted to unwrap.
He generally stayed far away from nice girls, because first, they weren’t worth the trouble it took to get them where a guy wanted them.
And second, the consequences could be life-altering.
But for this one, he was gonna make an exception.
This one, he wanted, tonight. Now. And damn the consequences, which seemed hazier and further away every minute, like a mirage on a summer highway.
But he'd be patient, because she was no sweetbutt, as some of the brothers called the women who hung around the Flyers’ clubhouse, ready to get it on with any biker who would have her.
This girl was the kind who needed to be wooed. Seduced. Gentled into lying down with a man.
And strangely, for her, he was willing to put in the time and effort.
So, he sipped his long-neck Bud and watched her drink her margarita and lick the sweet drops from her soft, pink lips just as a good slow-dance number started up. Then he leaned in close and touched her arm. "You wanna dance with me?"
She licked her lips again and nodded, her shy smile lighting up her face.
"All right then, c'mon." He waited for her to slide off her stool and followed her out onto the crowded dance floor, his hand resting on the small of her back.
Because a slow song and a dance floor? Best excuse ever invented for strangers to get their hands on each other.
Oh, yeah, baby. Come to papa.
CHAPTER THREE
RaeAnn had never liked handsy guys, the kind who thought they could touch a girl anywhere they wanted just because she agreed to have a drink or dance with them.
But tonight, there was something about having Mac's hand resting lightly on the small of her back as he gently guided her across the room that sent shivers of delight clear through her.
His touch felt protective. A reminder that he was right behind her, and that it mattered to him that she'd agreed to dance. That he wanted to touch her and wasn't going to miss his chance to do so.
When they arrived at the edge of the dance floor, his hand slid across her back to press harder on her right hip, urging her to turn toward him. She did so, and his other arm moved smoothly around her and pulled her close to him.
His chin brushed her temple, his hands pressed into the curve of her back, and her breasts brushed his hard chest as the band sang Sam Hunt's 'Body Like a Back Road,' crooning about a guy knowing his lover's curves and enjoying each one.
And for the first time, the song really made sense. Because Mac wasn't grabbing her ass, or shoving his groin into hers or anything sleazy like that, he simply moved to the music in an easy rhythm, coaxing her along with him. He smiled down at her as he made a turn that carried them deeper into the shadows by the side of the stage.
Her palms on his chest, his heat and hardness under them, his strength so close to her, his clean, cologne tinged scent filling her nostrils, RaeAnn was the one who wanted to get handsy. She wanted to run her hands all over his chest, out over his wide shoulders, squeeze the thick biceps that seemed to be fighting to get out of his black shirtsleeves.
She wanted to lean in, press her face into his throat, and just sniff him.
His scent was healthy male, clean skin with a hint of cologne and perspiration. Heady and as intoxicating as the margaritas. Pheromones, she realized and giggled to herself. Hmm, there was truth to what those Cosmo articles said about pheromones and the effect they had on sexual attraction. She wanted more, from him at least.
Thus, she may have been the one who moved closer, or maybe it was him, Rae wasn't sure.
Either way, being held against him felt so, so good. Only a few inches taller than her 5’4”, he was just the right height to hold her, his chin brushing against her temple as they swayed.
She laughed, and he dipped his head to give her that roguish grin.
This made her giggle even more and he laughed too, the deep vibration moving through his chest and into her breasts and from there, narrowing straight down into her lady bits. Yes, it was that good of a laugh.
And being held by him was that good too, so when the music changed to a faster number and he raised his brows, asking silently if she wanted to keep dancing, she nodded enthusiastically.
"You jitterbug?" he called over the music. Rae scrunched her nose and held up one hand with her thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch apart. She could jitterbug dance a little bit, thanks to lessons she and Lacey had taken at a local community center, but she was not great.
He laughed again and grabbed both of her hands, giving her a wink. "Come on. I'll teach you."
And he did.
He danced cowboy-style, bending his knees a little, swiveling around from the hip, and sliding his boots on the dance floor, all his movements smooth and level. Rae was delighted. None of those swing-dance moves, tossing the girl over his back or hips, no thanks.
She followed the tugs of his strong hands, and soon she was jitterbugging along with him, laughing and breathless, having the time of her life.
Of course the song ended eventually, but instead of letting her go, he twirled her under his arm one last time and then pulled her in so her back was to his front, his arms around her. Nice. Surrounded by his strength, she felt feminine and sort of... cherished, or something.
The bar lights were dimmer now, she noticed absently as she swayed back and forth in his embrace. She could hardly see the other couples on the dance floor. The band was playing random chords, talking to each other on the stage, deciding what song to do next.
So, when Mac spoke in her ear, she heard his rough voice perfectly. “You want to go somewhere quieter?”
Her first thought was, 'Oh, no. I don't do that kind of thing, not with a stranger.'
Her second thought was 'Heck, yeah.’
Because that first thought? That had been her mother's influence, and RaeAnn was done listening to her—at least for tonight.
Thus, she tipped her head back against his shoulder and nodded earnestly.
He looked down at her like he didn't know whether to laugh or grab her and lay a big kiss on her—at least that's why she thought he was looking at her mouth that way.
Instead, he said, "Your place?"
Rae lost her smile. She shook her head, as vehemently as she'd just nodded, her hair catching on the placket of his shirt. "No," she said. "Not my place."
"What, the three of you gals room together? You don't have your own space?"
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"Oh no, that's not it," she said. "It's just... I live on my mother's property. I have my own apartment, but... she watches everyone who drives in and out like a-a spy."
He relaxed and nodded again his warm, lazy smile returning. "Right. We’ll go to my place. Did you ride with your friends or drive yourself?"
"I rode with my friends." It was Lacey's turn to be their designated driver. This worked out great for RaeAnn because she’d wanted to drink margaritas tonight until they dulled the hurt and embarrassment of her mother's sharp words.
Earlier that day Ellen Denton had scolded her, right in front of the other sales clerk on duty and in front of a customer, for forgetting to give the woman an advertised discount. And she’d done so in a way that made Rae feel two feet tall. As if Rae was a child, and not a very bright one.
Thus, margaritas and hot guys… and whatever followed.
Anyway, Lacey being tonight’s DD meant Rae had no car to worry about. Even better.
Mac nodded. "Good, then you'll ride with me. But first, I need to know something." He used his gentle grip to turn her to face him, keeping her close, so their bodies brushed as if they were still slow dancing.
"What?" she asked, alarmed. Was he going to ask if she liked kink or something? She wouldn't mind being tied up as she’d read about in a romance novel—in a purely playful way, of course—but she wasn't letting any guy put anything in her butt, no matter how hot he was.
"I need to know how these lips taste," he murmured, cocking his head. And then he kissed her.
His lips were warm and so, so soft against hers. RaeAnn's mind became a fizzing blank as he explored her lips tenderly with his, then tightened his grip on her nape and tasted her with the tip of his tongue.
Her lips parted on a sigh, as she invited him in.
They stood there on the shadowed edge of the dance floor as other couples moved nearby, the music loud, bass thumping, and voices and laughter a babble that may as well have been a foreign language for all Rae heard.
Mac held her there and took control of the kiss, giving her his lips and tongue and his taste, male and delicious.
She sank against him, giving him all he asked, and so enchanted was she, she probably would have let him do a lot more right there if he'd wanted.
But then someone bumped into RaeAnn, sending her jolting against Mac. He staggered, but kept his feet and held her safe. "C'mon," he growled against her temple.
RaeAnn nodded, still dazed by the power of that kiss, and allowed him to urge her back in the direction of their table. "All right, then, gorgeous, let's go tell your friends you're leaving with me."
Eep. Rae wasn't sure how Lacey and Dee would react. She knew Dee had hooked up a number of times, but Lacey was like her, with only a few boyfriends in her past and no incautious behavior.
When Rae arrived back at the table with Mac and told them she was leaving with him, Dee clapped and squealed.
Lacey did not. The redhead frowned at RaeAnn incredulously. "Rae, are you sure?” she hissed. “Uh, I'm sure he's a great guy and all, but he's a complete stranger."
Rae looked to Mac, half expecting him to be scowling at her friend. But he nodded to Lacey.
"You're right," he said. "You girls don't know me." He reached into his hip pocket and pulled out his wallet. Then flipped it open, removed his driver's license and handed it to Rae. "There. That's me."
Rae looked at the license. He was 27. That was nice—older than her, but not too old.
Lacey plucked the license from her hand. "You don't mind if I take a picture of this with my phone, do you?" she challenged Mac.
Mac shook his head. "Have at it."
"220 Barker Street? Is this your correct address?" Dee asked, getting in on the action. Although she did it with a flirtatious wink, which kind of ruined the effect. It also made RaeAnn frown at her, because what was she doing, flirting with RaeAnn's hot guy?
"It is. Second double wide from the end of the street, that's me."
He lived in a double wide? Rae wasn't sure what to think about that, but he was a young single guy, and most of them either shared an apartment with someone, or still lived at home.
And maybe it was a nice double wide.
Mac gave her another of those incendiary kisses when he walked her out to his vehicle and another before he helped her up into it. She watched dreamily as he walked around the front and climbed in the other side.
She realized by his wince and the movement of his shoulders and arm that he'd had to adjust himself in his snug jeans, which was thrilling in itself. He was turned on by their kisses.
But then so was she. His mouth sent heat spiraling down through her, so much that she was certain her panties were soaked.
Her nipples were stiff, too. She peered down at her breasts to see if they were showing through her bra and thin top. Oh, geez, they kind of were.
When she looked up to find Mac grinning over at her, she blushed hotly. Had he seen what she was doing? She was such a dork.
"I like your truck," she blurted, to cover her embarrassment. It was a late model Toyota with leather seats, all the latest tech, and a big motor that sent them rumbling along the street away from the club. The cab smelled like him and his cologne, like he'd just put it on before climbing in the truck, and the scent had lingered.
"Thanks," he said. "My truck likes you in it."
He reached across the console and laid his big, warm hand on her thigh as he drove. His touch seemed to burn through the thin denim of her jeans. She really liked his hand there.
Mac had the radio tuned to a classic rock station, turned down low enough so they could talk. One of the old bands, she thought the Eagles or Hawks or the like, was singing about their ‘peaceful, easy feeling.’ Maybe they'd been drinking margaritas when they recorded the song.
Mac headed west on the brightly lit interstate, steered the truck onto an exit ramp, and then they veered up a long hill and out onto an open, prairie-like bench.
Huge rocks and evergreens dotted the sides of this road, which was lit by tall streetlights. There was a fair amount of traffic, which was good. She wouldn’t have liked to drive out into dark, lonely countryside with no one else on the road—too creepy when she didn’t know him.
"So, Airway Heights," RaeAnn said. "Are you from here?" That would be the only reason anyone would choose to live out here, in her opinion.
"Nope," Mac said. "Grew up in Wenatchee. The Heights is a nice little town, though. Out of the city, but real close. And I have good friends here—they’re like brothers." He gave her a sidelong smile, eyes twinkling in the shadowed cab, as if silently laughing at a private joke.
She smiled back and played with his fingers as his hand lay on her thigh. "What do you do here, for work, I mean?"
He looked tough and capable, like he could do a lot of things, hard physical things like maybe toss big boxes around or steer heavy equipment while wearing a hardhat. He'd look sexy in one of those.
"I'm an EMT," he said. "Work on an ambulance."
"Really? Wow, that's so worthwhile."
He gave her thigh a squeeze. "How about you? You in school, or what?"
"Um, no," she mumbled. "I work in a boutique downtown, selling women’s clothing."
"Hey, that's cool," he told her. "Better than a lot of jobs, right?"
Rae snorted. "Not when the boss is my mother."
He laughed and gave her thigh another squeeze. "That bad, huh?"
"Definitely that bad," she said. But if she thought about her mother anymore, she'd need more margaritas. And since she was still riding her tequila buzz, that would not be a good idea. "How much longer to your place?"
She wanted more of those addictive kisses and more of his hands on her. Both kept her from doubting her wisdom in being there.
She wriggled in her seat, and he lifted his hand to touch her cheek as he slowed the truck. "Why, you have to pee?" he asked her. "Hold on, we're almost there."
Rae gasped. What k
ind of question was that, when they were just getting to know each other?
He laughed that rough, rollicking sound she liked so much, and turned the steering wheel. "Sorry, did I offend you, princess?"
Rae decided that kind of earthy talk was just Mac, take him or leave him.
And she wanted to take him—at least for one night. She snickered, because that sounded like she was the guy. Although, no reason she couldn't take him, as in be on top. This made her snicker again.
"What?" he asked, slowing the truck as they drove through the main street of town, lined with small businesses. A big truck stop and grocery store were the biggest of these.
Rae tossed her hair back and gave him a smile she hoped looked wicked and not like a drunk chick. "Just glad we're here, that's all."
He turned off the main road, onto a street, and stopped the truck.
"Well, then, come on in," he invited, grinning back.
CHAPTER FOUR
Mac jumped down and jogged around to RaeAnn’s side of the truck. "Watch your step—darker than a vampire's ass out here."
He helped her down and led her around the truck, his arm around her shoulders. "Hell, I forgot to leave the porch light on again," he said. "Here's the steps."
Rae caught a shadowed look at his mobile home as she waited for him to unlock the door. It looked kind of old, and the creak of the steps under their feet—as well as what she could see of the flooring when he ushered her inside—bore witness to the unit's age.
Down the hall there was a light on that threw off just enough illumination to outline the furniture in the living room and the side of a kitchen counter. The place smelled faintly musty, with an overlay of Mexican food and citrus air freshener. This reminded her of Dee's apartment, which she shared with two younger brothers.
Mac closed and locked the front door behind them and moved close, his broad shoulders and tousled head blotting out the light from down the hall.
Rae’s nerves jumped.
Oh, my God. What had she done? Should she tell him she’d changed her mind? That she wanted to go home, or back to the bar with her friends?