by Candace Shaw
Bryce secured Sydney’s motorcycle onto the trailer next to his all-black Harley. He couldn’t believe a manly man like himself was going to drive cross-country with a pink motorcycle hitched to the back of his SUV.
He placed the luggage and cooler she’d left in the open garage in the trunk. She still hadn’t emerged from the house yet except to stick her head out to say her belongings were by the door.
Looking at the time on his cell phone, Bryce heard the garage door close and Sydney’s footsteps on the driveway. He glanced up and almost did a double take. She was delectable in a pair of black shades, a short black sweater dress that hugged her lethal curves and a gold-and-silver twisted belt around her waist. Even though she did weight training and kickboxing to stay in shape for her job and was toned, she still had a dainty figure that didn’t fit her personality. He let his eyes peruse down her bare legs to her flat ankle boots.
“Aren’t you going to be cold without any type of...panty hose or leggings?” Not that he really cared. She had a pair of muscular, sexy legs that he wouldn’t mind being lost in between.
“I tend to get hot while traveling in the car. I have a throw blanket in my tote bag, and your Range does have heat, right?” she asked sarcastically.
He closed the gap between them. “Yes, or you can throw them across my lap.”
She twisted her lips into a frustrated smile. “I’ll pass. You just concentrate on the road, Counselor.”
Moments later they were on the interstate headed toward Tennessee. He tried to keep focused on the road but kept glancing in her direction. He wasn’t sure if he should make small talk or not. She seemed content reading a magazine and bopping her head to the music that streamed through the speakers.
“So does your family know you’re going to Vegas?” he asked.
“Yep. My mom had a panic attack, and my dad said have fun and to split my winnings with him,” she answered. “Braxton didn’t question me, but my other half suggested I go somewhere else. She has never fully understood why I love motorcycles.”
“Hmm, and why do you love motorcycles?”
“Just the sheer excitement and exhilaration to be in total control of the sleek, sexy machine. It’s almost like great sex but better and without a sweaty man underneath me.”
“Better? I don’t know about that. Maybe you’ve been with the wrong men.” He paused and momentarily glimpsed in her direction. “So you like being in control...and on top?” He tried to contain the wide smile, but it was no use. The visual he conjured up of her riding him hard while he tightly grasped her fine bottom sent his mind and his foot on the pedal in overdrive.
“You wanna slow down?” She pointed to the speedometer. He was going eighty-five.
“Oh. Sorry, my mind was somewhere else,” he said, slowing down to a few miles over the speed limit.
“Yeah, like in the gutter. I was talking about riding a motorcycle, not a man.”
“Well, I can see how the two can be similar. For me, I love the force and the powerful engine underneath. I love the roar and the exquisite sexy hum when it’s idle. But then you speed up again until you finally reach your destination... The true destination for me is the aftermath and thrill of being in control and becoming one with the ride. Sometimes bumpy, sometimes smooth but overall quite satisfying.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her cross and uncross her legs as a pursed smirk formed, and her cheeks turned a rosy pink.
“Is that similar to your experiences, Syd?”
“Um...it just depends on my mood.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Sometimes if I’m stressed, I ride really, really fast...you know. To get out all of my frustrations and pent-up energy. Scream at the top of my lungs along with the revved up engine. Then there are times I just want to be lazy and relax. Let the motorcycle drive and guide me and afterward float back down from pure bliss.”
It took every fiber in his being not to pull over and snatch her on top of him just to see how fast and passionate she could really ride and drive him, with him in control guiding her how he wanted. How he needed.
She pushed her shades up on her head, and he saw her eyes for the first time since their trip had begun. They’d turned dark cinnamon with a sparkle of fire like always, except this time she wasn’t arguing with him, which was what usually provoked her heat-filled eyes. He stroked his goatee. How had he missed it this entire time? She wasn’t angry with him. She was turned on by him.
“Well, maybe one day we’ll go riding together,” he suggested, his voice laced with lust and sex.
“Only if I get to drive one of your bikes.”
“Oh, so you know about my collection?”
“I saw them in your garage when you hosted Megan and Steven’s engagement party. Megan showed me, thinking we’d have something else to talk about instead of arguing about cases.”
“But you’ve never mentioned them. I knew you had one, but I kinda thought you had a little scooter or something—not a Harley. A pink one...but Harley all the same.”
“Mmm...I guess I thought getting along with you would end our bantering. We’re on the opposite sides of the law. You defend criminals who you clearly know are guilty. We just don’t arrest people without hard evidence. I have to stay true to my beliefs. I couldn’t let my guard down, especially with you.”
“But you just did.”
She groaned, sliding her shades back over her eyes, and turned her head toward the window.
* * *
Yes, I just had the audacity to let my guard down. How did a conversation about motorcycles turn into a sexual, erotic escapade? True, riding a motorcycle was truly a high like an orgasm, especially since she hadn’t experienced one in who knew how long. Years perhaps. Even though she’d had sex in the past, she had never experienced an over-the-top, earth-shattering, bed-rocking orgasm. Syd had just figured they were overrated and people were lying about having multiple ones in a row. Even though there’d been the hint of one when Bryce had kissed her and set off some kind of electric spark. And a few moments ago when he was describing his motorcycle experience, it happened again. However, it had been almost a year since she’d had sex, and apparently her body was tired of the dry spell.
Sydney opened her fashion magazine again, flipping through expensive clothes, purses and jewelry that she’d never buy, at least not at those prices. She didn’t mind waiting until the season was over with to shop at the outlet malls. She glanced at Bryce. He was completely focusing on the road ahead, but she didn’t like a silent, awkward road trip.
“So how old were you when you got your first motorcycle?”
“Eighteen, and it was a little scooter. Nothing fancy. I saved my money from working in the law firm of one of my father’s golf buddies the summer before I went to college.”
“Wait a minute.” She paused, not believing him. “You bought it yourself?”
“Yes...despite what you may think about me, I didn’t just have things handed to me on a silver platter from our butlers, Jeffrey and Belvedere. Yes, I had everything I needed, but my father believed in working hard. When I was sixteen and asked for a Mercedes, he laughed at me and bought me a Honda. A used, five-year-old Honda that I was responsible for putting the down payment on. He said if I wanted a Mercedes, I would have to buy it when I graduated from college and got a job.”
“You really had butlers named Jeffrey and Belvedere?”
“No.” He smiled.
“Oh.”
“Their names were Chauncey and Gordon,” Bryce answered with a laugh.
“Ha-ha.” She punched his shoulder teasingly. “So you were the only kid at your private school with a Honda and everyone else Mercedes and beamers.”
“Nope. Wrong again, grasshopper. I went to a public school. Now mind you, it was in a nice neighborhood, so there were still some
high-end cars in the student parking lot.”
Her eyes rounded, and she swore she needed to get her hearing checked. “You went to a public school?”
“Yep. From kindergarten to twelfth grade. I went to elementary school where my mom taught, like you and your siblings did with your mother.”
She smirked, remembering those days. “Right, but at least your dad wasn’t your assistant principal in middle school and your uncle your principal in high school.”
“No, I was grateful when I went to middle school. It was sort of hard to be mischievous when your mom’s classroom was just down the other hallway. I guess you and Megan never got in trouble, either.”
“Megan, no. Braxton, sometimes. And me...well...a few times. I got caught smoking a cigarette in the girls’ bathroom in eighth grade and my dad suspended me.”
He laughed hysterically. “Wow, your dad suspended you? Do you still smoke?”
“No. That was the first and last time. Do you?”
“An occasional cigar. So did you and Megan ever do the twin switch?”
She laughed out loud. “Oh, yes, and one time it backfired really, really bad.”
“What happened?”
“Sixth grade, pre-algebra test. I’d taken the test in first period, and I knew I aced it. Megan had the test in third period and was nervous. During that time, our mom was still dressing us exactly alike from our hair ribbons, earrings, fingernail polish. Literally everything. And besides from Braxton and our parents, no one knew who was who. Anyway, I offered to take the test for her, and she went to my English class that she had first period. Well, the assistant principal, i.e., my father, decided to do teacher evaluations that day and walked into Mrs. Snow’s math class expecting to see Megan.”
“Oh, no!”
“Oh, no is right. I was trying to keep my eyes downcast on the test. Otherwise he would’ve known it was me. Dad always says that even though Megan’s eyes and mine are shaped the same and are the same color, I have more fire in mine and that’s how he tells us apart. Well, he’d barely glanced at me and shouted, “Sydney, what are you doing in here?” I tried to say I was Megan, but there was no point. We both ended up with zeroes on the test, after-school detention, and were grounded for a month. After that, Mother never dressed us exactly alike again.”
“That was a funny story,” he said, chuckling.
“It wasn’t funny then.”
She yawned and immediately tried to muffle it so he wouldn’t yawn, too. She didn’t want him to become tired. When she traveled with her family, she was always in charge of keeping her father entertained so he wouldn’t get bored and sleepy while driving.
Syd thought about their conversation and was quite surprised to learn that the Monroes had actually attended public school and he’d had to help buy his own car as a teenager. For some reason, she’d always thought Bryce was the flashier one of the two brothers with his mansion in an exclusive neighborhood, motorcycle collection, designer clothes and expensive watches. Steven had always seemed to be the more humble and modest Monroe. In the media, his campaign team had painted him as a down-to-earth guy who didn’t care about his millions and only cared about the welfare of his constituents and helping others. Once she’d met him, she’d realized that truly was his character. His only flaw had been his playboy ways, but, thanks to Megan, he had finally settled down.
Now it seemed perhaps she’d been wrong about Bryce. He didn’t come across as the spoiled rich brat that she perceived him to be.
“I can drive so you can take a break,” she offered, sliding her feet from underneath her and settling them on the floor next to her purse. “You’ve been driving for three hours straight.”
“I’m good, but we can stop at a rest area to stretch for a bit. There’s one coming up soon.”
“Okay, and we can eat lunch. I brought some things to make sandwiches and some other goodies.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later they sat at a picnic bench in a sunny spot a few feet away from Bryce’s SUV. There were a few other travelers eating or walking their dogs in the area restricted for them.
“I should travel with you more often,” Bryce said before biting into his turkey and cheese sandwich. “Reminds me of the times growing up and traveling with my family in our Winnebago. Mom would make sandwiches, fried chicken, salads and cookies.”
“Really? You mean y’all didn’t take the private jet?” she asked teasingly, munching on a sweet potato chip.
“Sometimes, but that was more so for Dad’s business travels. For family trips, unless it was overseas or a minivacation, we would drive cross-country. It was more fun that way.”
“I know what you mean. So you didn’t pack any food for this long trip that you originally were going to take by yourself?”
“Nope. Just some bottled waters and the sweet potato chips. I was just going to stop when I got hungry.”
“Oh...well, I like to bring food to save money.” She stopped as she reminded herself that wasn’t a priority of his even though he apparently did know the value of working hard in order to buy his first car and motor scooter.
Sydney’s cell phone beeped from inside her purse. She pulled it out to see a text from Megan.
Just checking on you.
I’m fine. At a rest area eating lunch.
Don’t drive all night. Just stop over somewhere and get some rest. I hate that you’re traveling alone.
Trust me I’ll be fine. TTYL
TTYL
Sydney tossed the phone back into her purse and folded her paper plate, setting her empty bottled water on top of it. She grabbed their trash and threw it in the can behind her.
“That was Megan checking on me. She wanted to make sure I was fine.”
“Yeah...considering you’re with me, she probably thinks we’ve argued the entire time.”
“Oh...actually she doesn’t know I’m with you. I haven’t spoken to her since before my car had issues. She’s shooting scenes for The Best Decorated Homes, and I didn’t want to interrupt if she was on set.” She paused as she pondered something. “Does Steven know I’m with you?”
“No.” He shrugged. “Haven’t spoken to him in a few days. He’s in Washington. Congress is in session.”
He stroked his goatee and tilted his head as a wide grin stretched from corner to corner of his mouth. The profiler in her knew where this conversation was going.
He leaned across the table. “Why didn’t you tell your other half that you’re safe with me?”
Sydney leaned in toward him, her head just inches away from his. “You mean why didn’t I tell her that you’re safe with me?”
He threw his head back in laughter, but then his facial expression turned serious. “Baby girl, I know you’re Agent Chase and you know how to handle the bad guys but when you’re with me, I’m the man.”
She muffled a gulp, and her next breath lodged in her throat. She crossed her legs tightly to stifle the warm sensation that pulsed whenever he said something remotely sexual. But a passionate rush slammed through her body, and her right leg began to quiver. She stood and grabbed her purse.
“For your information, I’m grown. I don’t tell my twin everything.” So what if that was a lie? She wasn’t ready to discuss Bryce with Megan because she wasn’t sure what she’d say. Sydney needed to first figure out what the heck was wrong with her. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”
She turned away from him and started down the sidewalk.
“You know, you’re not the only one who understands body language. You forget I’m an attorney,” he called after her as she groaned. As she continued her trek to the ladies’ room, she heard his wicked laugh in the background.
Once there, she splashed water on her face, hoping to cool down her body. This was ridiculous. Sydney cou
ldn’t believe she actually found herself lusting after the one man she never thought in a million years she would ever want. He was cocky and arrogant even though he probably just thought he was confident and sure of himself, which he was. And that turned her on even more, especially his serious expression when his jaw was clenched and his eyes turned dark as coal. He was in full control, and she craved to have him in control over her mind and body just as he had when he had bestowed that kiss upon her. That stupid kiss that started all her crazy thinking that she could actually fall for him. Not going to happen.
She exhaled and splashed water on her face once more, and then headed back toward the picnic bench. Sydney slid her shades over her eyes as his eyes caught hers in a knowing stare. He stood by the passenger side of the SUV and tossed her the keys, which she caught.
“You drive.”
They rode in silence for a while as Bryce checked and returned emails on his cell phone. She was glad for the quiet between them and preferred listening to the Tony! Toni! Toné! CD he’d popped in when they started back on the road.
He placed his phone in the console between them and cleared his throat. “So...I was thinking we can stop over and rest in Saint Louis tonight and start fresh in the morning unless you wanted to stop in Memphis and see your cousins.”
“No, Saint Louis is fine.”
While her original plan had been to stop in Memphis and say hello to her cousins Bria and Raven Arrington, that she was now traveling with Bryce made her change her mind. She still hadn’t come to grips with the fact that she had begun to see him in a different light and actually thought she was attracted to him. Considering no one in her immediate family or Bryce’s family knew they were traveling together, she’d rather keep it that way before Megan—the hopeless romantic—started making wedding plans.
He cleared his throat and turned toward her. “Before I knew you were tagging along, I’d reserved a suite at the Ritz-Carlton. They just sent me a confirmation email—”
“I can’t afford the Ritz,” she answered abruptly, shooting him a glance.
“Syd, I got this. Okay? It’s a very large suite with two bathrooms and a separate bedroom. There’s a pull-out sofa in the living room. I’ll sleep there.”