Revelation: A Contemporary Erotic Romance (Iris Series)

by Lynn, Rebecca

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but actually the detective and I still have some things to discuss before he signs on the dotted line. Number one, we need to make sure it would fit into his schedule.” Emily glanced over at him.

  Mike began to speak, but then stopped when Emily kept talking.

  “Number two, we only need five men to start out. I have several guys in mind and once I meet with them I’ll have a better idea of who can swing it this semester. Eventually it will be best to create a big pool to choose from so they’re not all needed each semester. I’ll start working on that immediately and we can hopefully have our first five men training in a week or two. You wanted to start having them meet with the students in the classroom by the beginning of October, right?”

  “Yes, that would work best in the schedule,” Rene said. “What I was going to say before was it might be best not to have any more male teachers as the mentors. Jonathan is extremely popular so I know he’ll work out, but it would be good to get others from the community so the students have a diverse group of men.”

  “Absolutely,” Emily agreed. “That’s the idea.”

  They discussed the rest of the logistics, the cycling in with the mentors in the student classes and what that would all look like. Then they ended by saying their goodbyes.

  “Thanks again for fitting me in before the holiday, guys. I’m really excited,” Emily smiled.

  “We’ll make men out of these boys if it kills us,” Maurice laughed. “Seriously, it’s a great program. Piloting it this fall will help us iron out the kinks for the spring semester.”

  Emily and Mike smiled at both Maurice and Rene, said goodbye then left the building.

  As they made their way down the steps, Mike held her elbow. “I want you to ride me.”

  Emily practically fell down the stairs at his words. She slowed her steps and looked at him while continuing her descent. “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry. I misspoke,” he smirked.

  Yeah, right.

  “Ride with me. On the bike,” he clarified with a mischievous smile playing at his lips.

  “I don’t think so, Detective.”

  They reached the bottom and he continued holding her elbow while walking toward the Harley.

  “Come on. Have lunch with me or something. I have some more questions I want to ask about the program.”

  “Why don’t we chat more at the barbeque on Monday,” she evaded.

  “Because we’re together now.” They reached the bike and his fingers stroked the soft spot on the inside of her elbow.

  She moved her arm out of his grasp. “Why are you always touching me?” she said with a slightly exasperated growl.

  He stopped at the sound and smiled. “Why wouldn’t I want to touch you? You have soft skin, if not a bit prickly.”

  She glared at him.

  “Aw, come on, GC. We have business to discuss. Plus, I saw you eyeing my bike. I know you want to try it out.”

  She did. But there was only so long she could be around him before she felt a little light headed and she absolutely needed to keep her wits about her when she was with him.

  “Look, Detective. I get that you like women,” she began.

  “I do. Even the prickly ones.”

  She growled again.

  “And especially when they make that sound,” he murmured with glittering eyes and a light smile. “It conjures up all kinds of images. Come on. Don’t be a scaredy cat.”

  He knew that would get her so she tried her best to remain calm. “Why on earth would you think that you scare me?”

  “Because you feel it. Just like I do,” he whispered and looked at her lips. “And you don’t know what to do about it.”

  “What I feel, Detective, is annoyance,” she said dryly. Liar, liar, pants on fire. And they felt like they were. She patted him on the arm and with a patronizing tone said, “I realize that maybe it’s been a while since you’ve had yourself a good roll in the hay, but you won’t be having one with me. So, we can talk more at the barbeque.”

  “You know what I’m talking about. That unexplainable current of energy that seems to pass through us every time we’re together,” he said as if she hadn’t just spoken, capturing her hand that lay on his arm.

  She took a cleansing breath.

  “You won’t ever be able to convince me that you’re not feeling it so don’t even try. If you want to save our talk about the mentoring program until Monday, that’s fine. But come for a ride anyway. Let your hair down a little. I promise I’ll be good.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  She snorted, noting his eyes. She had no doubt he’d be good. That was the problem. She had never been so nervous around a man. Nervous, excited, aroused, completely discombobulated… Dammit, she hated feeling this way. Get control of yourself. Before she could respond, he continued.

  “You’re right though. It has been a while since I’ve had a good roll in the hay.”

  “A ‘while’ for most people usually constitutes longer than three or four days.”

  “Really? For me a ‘while’ is more like three or four months,” he said dryly.

  Please. Did he really expect her to believe he hadn’t had sex for that long? He leaned forward.

  “But that’s not what this is about. Come on.” He smiled. “A quick ride. You need to get home. Or do you need to head back to work?”

  She considered lying. Her boss was wonderfully flexible with his employees and especially regarding her with her program. Several of the lawyers work from home and from the office throughout the week.

  “I’m working at home today.”

  “Great. I have a mode of transportation to take you there. Makes perfect sense.” His eyes looked mischievous, pleading, and downright adorable.

  She sighed, shook her head then looked up at him with exasperation. She finally moved her hand out from under his.

  “I’m not exactly dressed for this.”

  “You’re perfect. Come on.” He waited her out and continued staring at her. She bit at her lip then huffed out a breath.

  “Fine. Then will you leave me the hell alone?”

  “No,” he chuckled and gave her a cute wink.

  “One ride. To my apartment. That’s it. Nothing else.”

  A look of triumph transformed his face. “You got it, GC.”

  She rolled her eyes and continued shaking her head. What the hell was she doing?

  “Hop on and wrap those gorgeous legs around me, sweet thing,” he said as he got on the bike. That comment earned him a smack to the back of the head. “Ow. I just meant on the bike!” he yelled, then turned to her with a glint of humor in his eyes. “I love when you’re violent with me. So much untapped passion,” he tsked. “Come on, get on,” he said reaching his arm out to guide her on behind him.

  As much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t wait. The last time she’d been on a bike was several years earlier with her cousin, Mark. He had a chopper and she loved the freedom she felt going fast with the wind blowing through her hair.

  She swung her leg over the back and comfortably settled onto the second seat slightly higher than the front one. Seeing his back right in front of her made her pause. She would have to touch him, hold onto him. She hoped she could do it without making a fool of herself. At least she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye.

  He threw his helmet on and then handed her an additional helmet he kept in the back compartment. He turned sideways to help her with it, but she batted away his hand.

  “I know how to put a helmet on, Detective,” she said dryly.

  He ignored her and continued looking her in the eyes while their hands battled for supremacy at her chin strap.

  She finished putting it on, buckling the strap under her chin and wondering how often this second helmet had been used and by whom.

  “Put your bag in the compartment back there.” She did and closed it up. “Have you ever been on one of these things?”

  “Yeah, my cousin has one.”

>   “Jonathan?” he asked with surprise in his voice.

  She shook her head. “Jonathan’s brother, Mark. He’s gotta chopper.”

  “Nice. So you know to move with me in the curves, not against.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

  “I live on –” she began, but he turned on the bike drowning out her words. She couldn’t help but feel he did it on purpose. The rumble of the bike vibrated between her legs causing an adrenaline rush, among other feelings, to course through her veins. It felt wonderful and she was determined to enjoy the ride. She was going to try not to think too much. Try not to think about the desire to snuggle into his back, rest her head on his shoulder, take her teeth and graze them over his –

  “Hang on, Em,” he yelled. He reached his hands back one last time to pat the sides of her thighs to make sure she was on then grabbed her arms to securely wrap them around his torso.

  And they were off.

  Chapter 3

  The wind rushed past her as they sped up the streets of Manhattan. Shooting across to Central Park West they entered into the oasis for the city dweller. It could only be described as the Sanctuary of the country’s busiest city. The canopy of the trees soared above them like the high ceiling of an old gothic church, sunlight dappling through the branches. The vibrant colors of the flowers now acted as their stained glass and fellow congregants walked the trails while worshiping the midday sun.

  He didn’t seem to care where they were going. He just wanted to ride. And even though that wasn’t part of their agreement, she couldn’t fault him. She hadn’t felt this good in years.

  And wasn’t that a damn shame.

  Her front was smashed to his back, her legs snuggly wrapped around his thighs, her fingers pressed into his stomach. Mmm. This might be the only time she would allow herself such luxuries.

  Being around Mike made her want to entertain that wild sexual side she’d squelched so early on. She’d been drawn to Krav Maga because of its hardcore nature and discipline, but there was also a sense of danger surrounding it for her which she thrived on. She liked fast cars, extreme roller coasters, racy novels, skydiving, and if she was honest, hot sex. Granted she’d never had it, but she knew she craved it.

  She glanced at the scenery around her and the realization hit her that she really did want it. With a yearning that nearly took her breath away. Unfortunately, the one man she’d had sex with had convinced her she wasn’t designed for it.

  But did she ever want it. Lately it was all she thought about. Hot. Raunchy. Sweaty sex that involved pulling on someone’s hair, biting, clawing and grappling between the sheets for control.

  And it was the detective she fantasized about while wanting it. She didn’t want to want it with him, but alas it was his face that appeared in her consciousness when her defenses were down, which had been all too often lately.

  It was during the latter years of high school that she pulled away from romantic relationships with guys. She hadn’t intended to. With her pubescent hormones pumping, she remembered her junior year when she’d had a desperate crush on Stephen O’Malley. When he’d asked her to his senior prom, she’d said yes immediately and continued to go out with him a handful of times after that. They’d fooled around and she’d allowed him to touch her in places she’d never let another guy touch her before.

  Although she had been prepared to give him her virginity, they’d never ended up having sex. After the fourth or fifth date his personality had altered slightly and he’d pressured her one too many times. The last time they were together he’d hinted that her friend Taylor had wanted what she’d gotten, that she probably just got scared of pregnancy or something after it happened which is why she’d cried to the police. Knowing that was the farthest thing from the truth, Emily had called him every name in the book and had ended it right then and there with him.

  But it broke her sweet naïve adolescent heart.

  The curve they took catapulted her back into the present, causing her to grip Mike tighter around the waist. She subtly let her fingers wander over his shirt to feel the washboard abs underneath. His stomach jumped and she smiled wickedly, pressing her front into his back. She was sure he could feel her nipples. He took his hand off one of the handle bars and squeezed his hand into hers briefly then set it back on the handle.

  If his stomach had been covered in Braille, her fingers would have read, “Touch me. Memorize every glorious line. Enjoy.” That was what Detective Michael Callahan exuded. Fun, humor, no commitment. Just a good time.

  Could she ever be that good time? Just have a fling with him? What if the reason why she sucked in bed was because she hadn’t been with the right guy? Scott certainly hadn’t encouraged her to let loose.

  At the middle of her time in law school, she’d met Scott in one of her classes. He was nice enough, knew how to charm a woman and she’d remembered when he had first shown interest that the realization struck her that she didn’t want to die a virgin. Right then, she’d decided he was just as good a guy as any to give it up to.

  Now she wondered if maybe her lack of prowess in the bedroom was because Scott had just been a giant dick. Figuratively speaking of course, because it certainly wasn’t literal in his case. Not that she had anyone to compare him to, she thought dryly.

  She had been studious and disciplined in school, very rarely dating in her college days. When she did, she never allowed it to get too far into the physical. She just didn’t trust men easily and somehow she knew one needed trust for a real relationship to work. She knew it stemmed from what happened to Taylor initially and then later with her high school crush, because she adored her male cousins, her uncle, her father…but in general, she thought most men were only interested in one thing and that always left her feeling empty and deflated.

  However for some reason, when she thought of Mike thinking of her in that way, it gave her feelings that were the complete opposite of how she’d ever felt toward other men. Because in a strange way, she believed deep in her bones that Mike did respect her even in the midst of his antics. He had that way about him that showed he genuinely liked people, that he was a good man.

  That didn’t make him any less of a flirt though.

  She was startled from her musings when he began to slow the bike down to a little patch off to the side and then brought it to a stop. While the bike idled, he turned his head and yelled through the helmet, “Where do you live? It’s Upper West Side, right?”

  She nodded and yelled back, “Right up the street from the school. West 77th and Amsterdam.”

  He nodded and headed back onto the road.

  She gripped his torso again and sighed as her mind wandered to its previous subject area. She was just going to play it by ear. She needed an element of trust with a man if she was really going to have the kind of relationship she truly wanted. Relinquishing that much control to a man she didn’t trust was going to be hard for her and she certainly wasn’t going to find it with a playboy. But maybe a fling was just what she needed. If only she could find a man that made her feel desire like the detective, but whom she could trust.

  She sighed. It was time to stop thinking, so she did. And enjoyed the rest of the ride.

  ……

  Twenty minutes later, Mike pulled into a spot on Amsterdam a couple of blocks down from her street. Once he was parked, he took off his helmet and got off the bike.

  “I’m famished. Have lunch with me.” He began helping her take off her helmet. She batted his hands away.

  “I got it.” She pulled away from the look in his eyes and started working on her chin strap. “I can walk from here,” she said as she took off the helmet.

  “Em.”

  She stopped and looked at him.

  “Have lunch with me.” He continued not allowing her to respond. “You owe me after pawing me for the last half hour.” His mouth kicked up and he murmured, “Who knew you were so frisky?”

  She rolled her
eyes at him, her normal response. “Please. If that was pawing then you really are hurting for some female affection.”

  “I am. I told you it’s been a while.” He stretched his arms up then scratched his stomach causing her to look at his stomach. “Come on, GC. I want to look at your beautiful, if not pissed off face while I eat.” He reached into the back compartment to grab her purse then put her helmet in it, took her hand and led her into the coffee shop entrance a half a block away.

  “This wasn’t part of the negotiation, and you don’t need to hold my hand, Dad. I’ve been walking on my own since I turned two.” She used her free hand to try to fluff up her hat head.

  “I like holding your hand,” he turned to give her a humorous look. “Besides, you can break your neck in those things.” He directed his head to her high heeled sandals. “Don’t get me wrong. I hope you never take them off. They’re sexy as hell. I just don’t know how you walk in ’em.”

  “Just one of those things they teach you when learning how to be a woman, I guess,” she responded. “I seriously don’t need you to hold my hand and I’m really not hungry.” Actually, she was starving. She tried to remove her hand, but he held on tight.

  “I know you don’t need me to hold it. But it’s nice just the same. That bit of human contact. Knowing that another person wants to touch you. It’s nice, don’t you think?”

  She gave him a look. “Who are you? And don’t think for a second that I don’t know you have ulterior motives for holding my hand.”

  He smacked his lips and led her into the restaurant, walking her to an empty two-top in the back. “Deal with it, Counselor.”

  Before removing his hand, he stroked his middle finger on the inside of her palm then offered her the seat whose back was to the front door so he could take the one with its back to the wall.

  Still flustered over the stroke of his finger, she finally let her self-defense training kick in. She always took the seat facing the door so no one could sneak up behind her. She immediately went to take his seat instead. They both awkwardly pulled for the same chair and when he looked at her, he shook his head and chuckled.