He’d been wrong about her on so many levels. She was a fucking ten in the looks department, but personality-wise, she was just as attractive. Even though he watched for it, not once did she act pretentious all evening. Instead of turning her nose up at something she wasn’t familiar with, she cautiously plunged forward. And now this high-society princess was grinding next to him to a Stones song at a rock concert at the Atrium.
James needed to watch out, because she was the type of woman who did a man in. But he bet it would be one hell of a ride.
###
“I can’t believe how many songs I recognized!” Megan grabbed James’s forearm. “And to think I had no idea Torrid was from Chicago.”
“Yep. Born and bred,” he responded with his seriously sexy grin that made her almost trip on the sidewalk.
Torrid was getting downloaded to her playlist as soon as she got home. Her smooth jazz channel on Pandora was going to be getting some serious competition. She’d bet Calli would love the new music.
“How many people do you think were crammed in there? Five hundred?”
James shrugged, still grinning. “Give or take.”
“That was so amazing!” she gushed. “My ears are still ringing.”
His grin just grew bigger as he looked ahead. She knew she was prattling, but she couldn’t help it. Her body was buzzing with adrenaline, and she felt as if she could blast off into the Chicago night sky and soar for hours.
They’d stayed until the very end of the concert, screaming and bouncing around with everyone else who’d been packed into the Atrium. When the band had taken their final bow after their second encore, the drummer—whom James referred to as Coltrain—spotted James and waved at them to go backstage.
Grabbing Megan’s hand and wading toward the exit, James just smiled and shook his head. Coltrain then yelled a loud “Fuck you!” with a shit-eating grin on his face. James must not have minded, because instead of yelling back, he’d just chuckled. She doubted he was the type of guy who was easily provoked.
Megan’s hair was limp and stringy, her face was flushed and grimy from perspiration, and her calf muscles screamed for mercy after she’d jumped up and down in her heels for the last two hours.
But she’d loved every second of it.
As she and James walked the short distance back to his motorcycle, she gripped his elbow a bit tighter. She’d had two more beers before they’d left, but the cool night air quickly sobered her up. At first, the drastic drop in temperature had felt amazing on her hot, damp skin, but now her bare arms were starting to prickle with goose bumps. Even so, she didn’t want to let go of his arm to pull on her cardigan.
Tonight had been one of the best nights she’d had in a long time. From the bike ride to pizza and beer to the amazing concert she’d never in a million years thought she would have enjoyed, she’d loved it all.
But none of those things would have been half as fun if not for James.
He had been her temporary shelter in a storm that was her life. At least for tonight anyway. He was steady and confident. He was honest and patient. He was also blessed with a sinfully gorgeous body and the dreamiest eyes she’d ever seen.
Why the hell is he single and unattached?
His bike was where they’d left it, thank goodness. She handed her purse to James and hurried to pull on her sweater so she could take the helmet he was holding out to her. They followed the same routine as the last time, but this time she didn’t mind the loud roar of the engine or the severe tilt of the bike around the corners.
She loved how the air felt rushing by her cheeks. She loved the flex of his abdominal muscles as he shifted on the bike. And truthfully, she loved the way he sat cradled between her thighs. With her pencil skirt pushed nearly to her hips, her black satin panties were the only thing standing between James and her girl parts. That naughtiness made her love it even more.
She was surprised when he pulled the bike back into the parking lot of his auto garage. She’d expected him to drop her off at her apartment since her car was out of commission for a few days.
“Did you forget something?” she asked as the purr of the engine died.
“No,” he answered over his shoulder. “I store the bike here at the garage. It would take up too much room at home. Plus, it’s kinda late, and I don’t want to wake up Cade with the bike’s engine.”
He let Megan get off first before he swung his leg over. She quickly pulled her skirt down and unhooked her helmet, which he stowed in the saddlebag in exchange for her purse.
He unlocked the office door before disappearing inside. Moments later, the garage door closest to where she stood cranked open. He ducked back out under the door.
“Just give me a second while I get the bike inside,” he said, pushing the kickstand up and walking the motorcycle inside.
She followed him to the opening of the garage and watched as he threw a vinyl cover over the bike. She could clearly see the muscles in his arms as he reached and tugged on the tarp. The denim of his jeans hugged his strong thighs and gave just enough room for Megan to picture his perfectly sculpted ass. For a second, she even saw the twin indentions at the base of his spine when his shirt rode up past his waistband.
“Are we walking then?” she asked, taking a step inside just so she could stop the tingling between her thighs. She was blushing, she knew it. There had to be a pink stain covering her entire face. Even her ears were burning.
He finished with the cover and hit a button on the wall, causing the open bay door to lower back down. “No, we can take my Challenger,” he replied, motioning toward a black car parked in the farthest garage spot.
“You had a car here the entire time, yet you still made me climb on the back of your motorcycle in a skirt?”
James looked at the car and then back to her, his eyes wandering down to her skirt and then back up to meet her gaze. A slow grin pulled at the side of his mouth. “Yeah.”
Megan didn’t bother to hide her annoyance. Yes, she’d loved the bike ride, but really, a car would have been a lot more comfortable. He could have saved the motorcycle ride for another time when she was dressed more appropriately.
Just as soon as the thought entered her mind, she stamped it down. Another night was out of the question. James was the father of one of her students. She was already tottering over the line of propriety with dinner and a concert. Not to mention the handholding and the shameless thoughts she’d been having about him all night.
She shouldn’t like the way he was looking at her. The way all the air rushed from her lungs, leaving her powerless to pull breath back in. Or the way her lower abdomen burned with what only could be desire.
She shouldn’t like any of it because James Foley should be off-limits. Yet she didn’t just like it. She craved it. Craved him.
She swallowed, wetting her throat so she could ask, “Why didn’t we take the car?”
He walked over to where she stood and stopped close enough for her to feel the heat from his body. “I like to ride when I can. But mostly we took the bike tonight because I wanted you on the back of it.”
That statement said a lot. The act of riding on a motorcycle with someone was way more intimate than she would ever have thought. Not just physically intimate, but it also meant giving control and trust to the person you rode with. And that obviously meant something to him.
She wished she could be braver, more confident. If she were, she’d reach out and trace one of the roses on his faded T-shirt just so she could feel how hard his chest was underneath. But her heart pounded so hard from the way he studied her it was difficult to speak, let alone touch him. After taking a quavering breath, she whispered, “I liked riding on the back of your bike.”
His slow smile made his eyes dance. “What did you like about it?”
She knew she should be thinking of an answer to his question, but she couldn’t pull her gaze from his lips. No man should have lips like that. They were perfect and full, and she despe
rately wanted to taste them. To sink her teeth into his plump lower lip, to trace the seam of his mouth with the tip of her tongue.
“Was it the roar of the engine as we accelerated?” he asked her, tilting his head.
She nodded slowly, watching his smirk turn into a teasing grin.
He reached forward and pushed a lock of her hair behind her shoulder. “Was it how the wind blew your hair back and tickled the base of your neck?”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded. Although his fingers only touched her hair, she felt the heat from him as if she’d been licked by a flame. Holy hell. Everything about this man made her want to shed her clothes pronto. She was struggling against the need to pant.
“Was it the vibrations traveling through your body, making your muscles hum?” he asked.
She knew the way she was feeling right now was wrong. She knew they shouldn’t be standing so close. Lust rose from her body like heat rising from asphalt in August.
Again, she just nodded.
Megan saw a muscle tick in the side of his jaw. When she looked up, she noticed the humor had left his face. His dark brown eyes seared into hers as if he were trying to set her on fire.
“Or did you just like having me between your legs?”
Chapter 11
James should have felt guilty for saying something so crass, but he didn’t. All of a sudden it was imperative that he force Megan to admit what she wanted. Everything pointed to the fact that she was into him. She just didn’t know what to do about it. A heated gaze replaced her shock just before she bit into her pink lower lip.
To hell with it.
He didn’t wait for her response to his question before he pressed his lips to hers. He wanted her. There was no hiding that fact. And goddamn it, he was going to taste her like he’d been dying to do.
At first, she just stood there. But when he stepped a little closer and lifted his hand to cup the side of her face, she kissed him back.
Maybe it was because she should have been forbidden, or maybe it was because he just wanted her so much, but her mouth tangling with his was fucking delicious. She tasted so sweet, like honey against his tongue.
His kiss was demanding and possessive, and Megan’s quiet whimper had him pressing for more. He brought his hands to her waist, pulling her against him. God, she felt good. They were aligned from head to toe, and the heat from her tight, lithe body made all his blood rush to his cock.
He teased her lips apart, taking her bottom lip between his teeth. She gasped, moving her hand through the short hair at the back of his head.
Sliding his hand down the rounded curve of her ass, he squeezed. It was firm and tight in her black skirt, and it felt perfect in his palm.
He tore his lips away from her mouth and nibbled along her jawline. When he sucked on the fleshy hollow underneath her ear, she moaned and arched her back like a cat, pressing her breasts firmly against his chest.
“Oh, God,” she whimpered, her breath coming fast and hard.
He loved the way she purred. Loved the way she was rubbing against him like she was trying to fuse their bodies together.
Licking and sucking his way down her neck, he tasted a faint trace of salt. A lingering vanilla scent tickled his nose from the perfume she must have applied earlier that day. When he reached her shoulder, he wanted to sink his teeth into the taut muscle.
From the way she was grinding against him, he knew she was getting lost in her pleasure. She had no idea she was digging her nails into his scalp to the point of drawing blood, but he didn’t give a fuck. Megan could do whatever the hell she wanted to him.
“James…” His name fell from her tongue like a fervent prayer. The need and want in her voice made his erection strain against his zipper.
He was willing to bet she hadn’t been with anyone since her divorce. It was just a hunch based on how responsive she was to his touch.
She was on the verge of losing control, and fuck him, he wanted to push her over the edge. He’d give his left arm to see what an uninhibited Megan McKenna was like. Just as long as he was a lucky participant.
Doing all she could to get closer to him as he kissed her skin, she was practically crawling up his body. She rocked her hips into his thigh, trying to lift her knee along the outside of his leg. And she would have succeeded if it weren’t for her tight skirt. He hated that goddamn skirt.
Her hand timidly skimmed his ribs and stopped at the waist of his jeans. Fuck him, but he wanted her to rip at his clothes. To run her nails over his bare chest so hard that she’d leave scratch marks behind. He hated her timidity.
That motherfucker of an ex-husband probably sucked out all the confidence Megan had possessed. What she wanted and what she had been conditioned to do were two different things.
He dug his fingers into the stretchy fabric of her skirt and wrenched it up, baring her mile-long legs and those fucking gorgeous black garters. He wrapped his hands around her narrow waist and lifted her onto the top of a tool chest.
She sucked in an audible breath as her ass hit the cold metal. But James didn’t give her a second to think before he locked his lips to hers. The tool chest was the perfect height, and he could feel the heat from her pussy as he nestled between her thighs.
She whimpered into his mouth as he took the back of her head in his palm to pull her closer. Instead of wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers went to work on the buttons of her cardigan. She leaned into him as she shrugged out of the red sweater, leaving her shoulders bare in only a thin tank top.
He broke their kiss, taking in her pink, swollen lips and her unfocused eyes. Her chest heaved as every one of her hurried breaths brushed up against his mouth. She looked so wanton, so wild. Like she was so far into her lust-filled haze that she couldn’t see where she was going.
He pulled both her camisole and bra strap off one shoulder and tugged them down her arm. The moment he cupped her bare breast in his palm, saliva flooded his mouth. It was perfect. Full, heavy, and tipped with a rose-colored nipple that was drawn up tight.
He flicked his thumb over the sensitive tip, and Megan let her head fall back with a breathy moan. He kneaded the soft flesh of her breast as if he were hypnotized. As if it were the first time he’d fucking seen a woman’s breast before.
His hand flexed, and he watched the way her pale skin pulled and bunched. The way the puckered nipple rolled between his thumb and forefinger. She arched her back, pushing the supple mound firmly into his palm.
Dipping his head, he covered the tip of her breast with his mouth. The contact made Megan jerk, sending the tool chest back a couple inches. Without leaving her breast, he slammed his foot down on the wheel brake of the chest.
She wasn’t going anywhere…at least not until he made her feel so good she forgot her name. So good that she’d never forget his.
He circled her nipple with his tongue, loving the way the firm tip dragged against it. He pushed her other strap down, baring and massaging her opposite breast. He sucked hard, pulling another whimper out of her before he resorted to flicking her pebbled nipple with his tongue.
“Oh, my God,” she moaned, pulling his head closer.
His erection was borderline painful as she pressed her hips against his pelvis. With one of his hands at her waist, her hips rolled back and forth in invitation. He moved his mouth to her other breast and smiled against her skin when he heard her hiss in pleasure.
He was sucking and nibbling so hard she might have bruises tomorrow. That wasn’t his original intention but the thought of marking her made his cock grow harder.
James let his hand wander south over her flat abdomen and past the tangle of clothes bunched around her waist. After brushing his fingers over her sexy-as-fuck garters, he moved to the apex of her thighs. He rubbed his knuckles down the folds of her sex over her black panties. At his first touch, she gasped and squeezed his skull between her fingers.
The silky material was hot and damp. Pulling his mout
h from her breast, he growled, “Jesus, Megan. You’re so fucking wet already.”
“Don’t stop,” she panted.
He drew a circle around her clit. Megan sucked in a ragged breath and her eyes closed. James watched her eyelids flutter and her lips move silently with every brush of his thumb.
“I’m not stopping,” he promised. “I’m just getting started.”
He moved the thin fabric out of the way and slowly pushed a finger inside. She was warm and wet and so fucking snug that his knees almost buckled.
“James, James, James,” she moaned as her head fell back.
Never before had he been this turned on by foreplay. His breath was coming fast as he watched her writhe against his hand. He withdrew and plunged back in, loving the way her body pulled on his finger. All the while, she whimpered, her face tilted toward the ceiling.
He added a second finger and pressed his palm against her clit. She cried out at the contact.
“Please,” she keened. Her breathing had turned erratic, and he could tell from the tension in her body that she was close to losing it.
“Fuck, Megan, you’re beautiful,” he breathed.
He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He didn’t know if she heard him, because after he’d uttered the words, her orgasm crashed down on top of her. Her body buckled forward, her mouth open in a muted cry.
James slowed his movements as her sex clamped around his fingers. She absently dragged a hand down his chest, and he knew if he hadn’t been wearing a T-shirt, she would have left scratches.
When he’d said she was beautiful, he’d meant it. Even in the throes of orgasm, as her body moved of its own volition, she was soft and graceful. The flush that bloomed over her body made her glow like a fading ember. As he watched, he saw her pleasure peak and slowly recede. It was like watching a fucking flower bloom.
Realizing he was holding his breath, he let out a shaky exhale. He was wound so tight that any touch from her might trigger him to shoot off like a horny teenager.
Slowly, Megan returned to earth. He withdrew his fingers and started to undo the zipper of his jeans. When she realized what he was doing, she immediately hurried to help him.
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