I get on the bike and she climbs on behind me. Her hold is tighter now, another indication of her growing trust. Jess’s hands hover too close to my crotch for my liking. I grit my jaw, start up the bike and ease out of the car park. Her long legs frame me perfectly—too perfectly. As I navigate the darkening streets, images pollute my mind. Golden skin, parted lips, Jess’s dark hair tousled and slightly damp. Plunging into her until she screams my name.
Godammit, now I’m hard. When have I ever had such difficulty controlling myself? My whole livelihood is at stake here. I need to get a fucking hold of myself.
I pull up outside the Peckham apartment block and turn the engine off. A long breath escapes me. The torture is about to end but I still have very little from her. The thought that I should just take her to bed and fuck her secrets from her skitters through my mind but I haven’t sunk that low yet.
We get off the bike and she hands me the helmet. Against the sandy concrete and wide single-pane windows of the ugly building, she looks ridiculously exotic and out of place. How does a gorgeous girl like her end up in a dump like this?
I clench a fist. By having a shit ton of secrets, that’s how. None of which can be good. That’s why you don’t want to get involved with her, remember? The dragging sensation in my gut tells me I’m already involved—that maybe I was lost the moment I kissed her, or perhaps even when she first locked her gaze onto mine.
She stares up at me, lips moving slightly as if unable to articulate what she wants to say. I stare down at her and fight the temptation to kiss those silent words away. Why am I finding it so hard to remain professional about this? I’ve been on worse cases than this. Missing person cases are my specialty and can be nasty at times because often there’s a legit reason the person doesn’t want to be found—reasons the average person doesn’t even want to think about. So I do my job and forget about it. If I stressed over every case like I am with this one, I’d be old and grey and probably on my damned deathbed.
I smirk as she pulls her hair from its messy bun and runs her hands through it before redoing it. Goddamn I’m probably close to my deathbed already. My cock presses against my trousers, the ache renewed.
“So… thanks for today and well… for saving my life.”
“You’re welcome.”
She shoves her hands inside the leather jacket and her eyes round briefly. “Oh, this is yours.” Before I can protest, she has it unzipped and shrugs out of it.
“Keep it. I don’t need it.”
Jess pulls it back in and clutches the leather to her chest. Lucky jacket.
“I’d better…” She jerks her head toward the apartment block.
“I’ll see you to your door.”
“No!” She recovers her composure. “I mean, it’s not necessary.”
Not for her perhaps, but I still need to find another way into her life. Turning up at her workplace constantly is going to start seeming real creepy soon enough. Why can’t this woman just be like the women in my past? Easily persuaded.
I glance over her silky hair, strands of it falling across her face, to her slightly slanted eyes and over the rest of her bad girl image. Is it because she is nothing like the women in my past? This whole thing doesn’t jive. That must be what’s throwing me off my game. Previous girlfriends were wholesome, upfront sort of women. Yeah, once you got them into bed that usually changed, but I knew where I stood with them.
The innocence in those green eyes is enough to confuse any man. And it’s playing merry hell with my libido. I can’t deny I’m curious to find out if she’d change too once I got her into bed.
“I’d like to make sure you’re safe,” I prompt.
“Not much can happen between here and my door. I know you think I’m hopeless—” she laughs, “—but I can navigate a few steps without coming to harm.”
“I don’t think you’re hopeless,” I say a little sharply.
“I appreciate the hero act, but it’s okay, you don’t need to put it on with me.”
Put it on? I wish. “Princess, it’s no act. I’m just trying to be a gentleman that’s all.”
A smile quivers on her lips but she still manages to look sad. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Jess turns away slightly, ready to leave me. I have to act fast.
“Can I see you again?”
She pivots and this time sadness really does echo in her expression. “I don’t think so.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have time for… anything right now. I’m sorry. My life is complex enough.”
“So why did you agree to a date in the first place? I thought you wanted me.” Great, now I sound petulant.
“A moment of weakness, I guess. I’m sorry, Hunter. I shouldn’t have led you on.” Jess curses softly under her breath. “I’m not very good at this. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t lead me on. But I still want to see you again. And I know you want to see me.” I inch forward and close the gap between us. She squeezes the leather tighter. “I won’t complicate your life, I swear.”
Liar. You’re going to fuck it all up.
I quash the voice of morality and finger a strand of hair that’s escaping from her bun. “Don’t fight this, princess. I’ll make it worth your while. I won’t make life harder for you. Just let me into your life… just a little.”
As she gazes up at me, I see the internal fight. Like a little girl lost, she stares up at me, trying to decide if I’m her salvation or not. I’m so far from it, it’s insane, but I keep my expression sincere and pray she doesn’t see that.
Then in an unexpected move, she leaps forward and her arms tangle around my neck. Before I can utter a sound of surprise, her lips are on mine. I hear the jacket she was holding drop to my feet with a woosh but everything else fades and I wrap my arms about her waist. I pin her to me and, unable to control myself, I rock my hips into her in an attempt to ease the agony.
She moans and opens her mouth to me. I take the opportunity to thrust my tongue in to meet hers. My muscles go taut at the taste of her; a tingle runs down my spine. Every part of me is on fire. Who knew a kiss could have such an effect?
I slide my hands around to cup her ass, notching myself against her. She’s breathless and pliant in my arms. Putty in my hands. I swear I could take her here and now if I just kept up the pace. We stumble as the kiss deepens and I manoeuvre her around so she’s propped up against the bike. I draw away to briefly eye her.
My Harley and a hot woman.
“God, you drive me insane, Jess.”
She nods, clutches my neck, nails digging in, and kisses me again—a hard, forceful kiss as if she’s afraid of what might happen if we pull apart.
She’ll come to her senses. Part of me hopes she does. I wish she’d tell me to fuck off. But I’m also dying for her to beg me to take her to bed. Longing for her to strip off her clothes and let me screw her until she can’t take any more.
Her breasts press against my chest, her nipples hard against the cotton of my top. I drag a hand away from her rear, my tongue still plundering her mouth, and reach between us to cup a breast. She leans back against the bike a little so I have better access.
“Hunter,” she breathes my name, a wisp of sound against the traffic but it still sends fire shooting through my veins.
I pluck her nipple until it hardens further then mould her breast with my palm, enjoying the hard point of her arousal. Just when I think I can’t get any more turned on, she skims a hand down and palms my erection. I press a breath through my teeth and kiss her harder.
A car backfires and the sound jolts me from my Jess-induced haze of desire. We jerk back at the same time.
“Shit.” The air separating us feels suddenly cold but I keep my hands on her, unable to quite give up the feel of her yet. I can’t believe how close I was to taking her then and there in the middle of the street.
“Sorry,” she says quietly.
“Don’t be,” I snap.
A crack ricochets through the a
ir and the wall of the apartment behind us explodes.
“Fuck.” Gunfire. Someone is fucking shooting at us. My side protests as I pull us to the ground and cover her body with mine. Jess screams.
Crushed beneath me, she squirms, her ass wriggling against me. “Hunter!”
“Keep still, for fuck’s sakes.” I lift my head and try to peer around the bike. I hope it offers enough protection from the shooter. My heart thuds painfully against my ribs.
“You’re squashing me.” Jess wriggles some more and almost works her way out from underneath me until I grip a hand around the back of her neck and she freezes. “Hunter?” Her voice comes out in a squeak of fear.
“Are you hurt?”
“What? No! Just squashed.”
“It’s okay. Just keep still. I need to phone the cops.”
“What?”
“That was a gunshot.” A deep shudder wracks her while I dig my phone out of my jacket.
“That was a car, wasn’t it?” she asks hopefully.
“No way.” I twist my head around to view the apartment block and the damage. A rifle of some kind perhaps—a hunting gun most likely. Which says to me we haven’t been caught up in some kind of gang war because they’d be using illegal weapons. Someone deliberately shot at Jess.
I put through a call to the police and the dispatcher tells me someone is on their way. Apparently someone already called in the sound of gunshots. Sadly in some parts of London, the sound isn’t as rare as it should be.
“Are the police coming?”
I glance around the bike wheel and scan the area. Nothing. No suspicious cars or people. A couple of pedestrians walk past us and give us strange looks. I ease back and urge Jess to sitting. Her hands tremble and her usually tanned skin is like ash.
“Stay behind the bike,” I order. “The police will be here in a minute.”
Jess grabs my jacket sleeve. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m just going to have a quick look around.”
“Hunter,” she hisses, “someone was shooting at us. Shooting!”
I lift a shoulder and crack a grin. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m invincible. Stay here.”
By the time I’ve searched both sides of the street, the police arrive with armed officers and they take their time clearing the area. With no sign of the shooter, they pack up pretty quickly, concluding it was a one-off. If it was a serial shooter, they’d have stayed to pick off a few targets, they tell me. I’m not sure if that makes me more or less nervous. That tells me it’s personal. Someone is trying to hurt Jess.
But why? Something to do with the money? A business deal gone wrong? The trembling, wide-eyed woman with her arms clamped around herself sure doesn’t seem like a hardened criminal or the kind to associate with dangerous people. But I know differently, right? I wish my head and my heart could come to some kind of agreement on this.
Arm around her shoulder, I take her up to her apartment. She makes no protests when I take the keys from her unresisting hands and lead her to the couch. While she hugs herself, I make a coffee and press a cup into her hands.
“Drink.”
She takes a sip and her nose wrinkles.
“Lots of sugar,” I explain as I sit on the battered cushions next to her. “You need it. You’re in shock.”
“Why would someone shoot at me?”
“I don’t know. Can you think of anything?”
“No. Are you sure it was a gunshot?”
“The cops said as much.”
“It must have been you.”
“What?”
“They were shooting at you. It’s the only logical explanation.”
“No, that was meant for you.” Besides, I’m not the one who’s stolen a shit ton of money, I add silently.
“Do you think I’m in danger?”
“The police are sure the shooter isn’t around anymore. They said it was just bad luck we were there and good luck that we weren’t hit.”
“And what do you think?” She takes a sip of the coffee and lifts that wide gaze to mine. Trust shimmers in those eyes and crushes my chest.
“I think you need to be careful and think hard. Two shots? Doesn’t sound like a random shooting to me. Sounds like someone with a target.”
“Shit, Hunter, you’re scaring me.”
“I don’t mean to. Think carefully, Jess. Is there any reason someone would shoot at you?” Tell me the truth, I plead mentally. Maybe I could even help her if she would just come clean.
Hands clamped around the coffee mug, she stares into the dark liquid and shakes her head. “No. I can’t.”
Disappointment wraps around my gut and it’s not because I’m no closer to the money. It’s because she doesn’t trust me enough to tell me about her past.
“If you’re in trouble, I know some people who can help.”
“I’m not in trouble. Really, I’m not. I mean who would want to kill me? I know bankers aren’t exactly popular—” she lets loose a shaky laugh “—but I’m harmless.”
Harmless? Not sure about that. Jess sends my heart racing, makes my skin clammy. She’s driving me insane. Harmless? No way.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
“Do?”
“Shall I stick around?”
“Oh. No, you don’t need to do that.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I’m fine. Seriously. Thank you for today. You must be tired and I bet your side hurts.”
It does, but I’m not going to admit to that. “It’s fine.”
“Look about that kiss….”
“That was my fault.”
“I kissed you.”
“You did.” I can’t resist letting my mouth curve upwards. She kissed me, but I don’t know if that’s a bad or a good thing. While my pride basks in it, the voice inside that keeps pulling at my gut wants to scream at her to run while she still can. I’m no good for her. “But I kissed you back,” I point out. “And I should not have been… er… touching you out there.”
She draws her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s okay.”
Hell, how do those two tiny words send an arrow of need straight to my cock? It’s okay that I was kissing her? Or touching her up? It’s okay that I want her so badly I nearly bent her over my bike to fuck her?
Before I can dwell on it anymore and make an even bigger fool of myself, I get to my feet. “Will you let me stay?”
“I don’t think so. It’s too risky.”
A hard knot forms in my throat. I’m more dangerous to her than a crazed gunman it seems. She might be right. If—when—I find that money, her whole life is going to come crashing down.
“Don’t answer the door to anyone. Be careful. Call me if you need me. In fact, call me tomorrow.” She follows me to the door. “Please?” I add as uncertainty dashes across her face.
Jess opens the door and I step out. “I’ll call you,” she says when I turn to face her.
“Promise?”
She rolls her eyes and her mouth curves. “I promise.”
Those lush lips snare my attention and my own smile drops. My skin feels hot and itchy, my pulse urgent. This is insane. I rest an arm against the door frame, my feet still firmly planted on the other side of the threshold and bring my mouth slowly down on hers. She softens but doesn’t touch me. We’re divided by the invisible line between the corridor and her room. I can’t help thinking of it as symbolic. We’re divided by secrets and lies.
Not that any of that matters once our lips connect. I swear I’ve never wanted to kiss a woman so much. Kisses are about the end game. But not with Jess. I want to drown in her kisses, to kiss her all day and see if I ever tire of them. I suspect it’s unlikely.
This kiss is slow, sensual—far from boring. It makes my insides feel like she’s thrown a lasso around them and is pulling the rope tight, tying me to her and stealing my breath. If it’s possible, my constant state of arousal grows worse.
A whimper from her s
naps something inside me—the rope she’s got me tied with perhaps—and I break away, step over the threshold and urge her back with my palms on her shoulders. Hands on her hips, I lift her onto the kitchen counter and eye her. I wait a moment for her to tell me stop, for anything, but nothing comes and I don’t have the willpower to walk away right now. Jess presses her palms to the counter top and stares me down, daring and tempting me. The door is still slightly open. I pray that’s enough to control me. I won’t take her to bed. But I do need to kiss her some more.
And maybe find out if those breasts are as beautiful as I suspect.
Thumbs on her cheeks, I slip in between her thighs. She cradles my hips perfectly as I tilt her face up and slide a kiss along her cheek and lick the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darts out to meet mine while her fingers curl into my jacket.
I drop my hands and find the hem of her T-shirt. The skin underneath it is warm and smooth. Using a gentle touch, I trace the waistband of her trousers and edge up over her ribs, following each tiny bump. She’s so delicate I could snap her in two. Funny how I didn’t notice that until now. In spite of the naivety about her, strength still shines through Jess.
My finger skims the silk of her bra and she gasps against my mouth. I work that finger under the material and groan. Round, soft flesh teases me, begs to be cupped and shaped and flattened against me. I move my lips down the arch of her neck and she tilts her head to give me better access. I dart my tongue into the delicate recess under her ear and savour the taste of her. The scent of coconuts surrounds me—from her hair, I assume. I’m unable to resist drawing it in and relishing it.
When my mouth meets her collarbone and too much material, I draw back to lift her top and pull down the cups of that emerald green bra. Pink tips and skin paler than the rest of her greets me, the perfect up-tilt of her breasts plead for my kiss. I swirl a finger around each nipple and trace the faint lines of blue veins under her skin.
Jess threads her fingers into my hair—a silent invitation—and I bend to kiss the valley. She tastes tangy and smells like heaven. I could lose myself there but she won’t let me. She urges me over and I take a nipple into my mouth. Her exhale of gratification makes my cock twitch. I nip and lave my tongue over the tight bud. When I go to clamp my teeth over it, a strange sound breaks the moment and I pause.
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