a sense of security falls over me. I can’t explain it. It doesn’t make sense.
His arm reaches around me to hold the other handlebar, and this feeling of safety is complete. He revs the engine and pulls out of the parking lot into the Saturday late-night traffic, following my directions towards my place.
He’s true to his word. I lean back into him and my head falls so comfortably into the crook of his neck. I close my eyes and just breathe as the wind whips around us, and the rumble of the engine causes all my muscles to relax. Within this rush of air I sit balanced, calm, at peace, like the eye of a storm. Even though we’re only touching the earth through two precarious points of the tires beneath us, I feel like I could fall asleep here in his arms.
A thought forces its way into my peace. What kind of voodoo is this? And… can I trust it?
He pulls into my driveway before I realize how far we’ve come and shuts off the motorbike’s engine. His boots tap down on the ground and I follow suit. I feel the loss of his body heat as he lifts himself off the seat behind me. He holds out a hand and I take it. The skin on my palm sears and crackles where he touches me as he helps me off the bike. The heat dances like fireflies through my body. Instantly I’m awake like I wouldn’t need to sleep for days. I’m caught in his gaze and I can’t help but just stare.
He nods at something behind me.
Oh. The front door. Right.
I try to compose myself as I pull the key out of the small bag slung over my body. I unlock the door. I almost fall in after it when he reaches past me to push it open for me. My heart is thudding in my ears and my throat is dry as I walk up the stairs, heels still clutched in one hand. Feeling his presence behind me and his eyes on my legs makes me dizzy. I have to concentrate on each step.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve slept with good looking men before. None of them has made me so damn… new and awkward like this.
On the landing I take the last few shaky steps towards my apartment door. Suddenly my door threshold seems to hold much more meaning than before. If we cross this threshold, if I let him come in... what will this mean? Am I really about to do this?
I haven’t let a man into my private space since… five years ago. My stomach tightens. I try to push unwanted images away. They disappear of their own accord when I feel his fingers brush at my hair from behind me. All I can think about is this beautiful man and how right it will feel to get very, very naked with him. Every second without him inside me, every inch of air between our bodies is a tragedy.
I slip my key into my front door and take a deep, calming breath. It almost works until he presses right up against my back. The heat rolling off him is burning me. I love it. I want more.
“Don’t move.”
My breath catches in my throat. Don’t move. Even if I wanted to move, I don’t think I could.
I feel his nose press lightly into my hair and I hear him inhale. He’s smelling me, drawing me in. At the same time, I breathe him in through the scent of him all around me from his jacket. This feels stunningly intimate. More intimate than being naked.
His fingers trail up my arms and they burn, even through the thickness of the leather. His hands run up my shoulders then trail towards the skin at the base of my neck. I suck in my next breath. I’m already a hot, dirty mess inside, aching to suck those fingers up into my mouth.
His fingers curl into the collar of his jacket and continue to trace my skin. In one liquid movement he pulls the jacket off my shoulders. I shiver. He’s going to strip me right outside my door. And I’m going to let him. Suddenly there’s no question whether or not I’ll let him inside. He has already found his way in.
His fingers brush aside my hair and drape it down over one shoulder leaving the other side of my neck and shoulder exposed. He grips the front of my throat with his large hand. The choke is firm but gentle and I can feel my pulse beating against his palm.
His lips find the back of my neck. First in a soft teasing kiss which I feel as tingles in the tips of my fingers. Then his lips part and I feel his wet tongue press against my skin as his hand tightens around my neck. I feel this kiss deep in my aching core. My back arches and my ass presses into his hips where I feel his hardness through his jeans. A noise like a pleading groan slips out from my mouth.
He pulls his lips off me and moves my hair so it falls down my back.
“Be good, kitten. I’ll be in touch.” He releases me and walks to the stairs.
I’m so stunned that all I can do for about two seconds is gape. I feel the itchy fear clinging to me again like static. It had disappeared completely just by being near him. I stare wide-eyed at this man who’s disappearing down my stairs. No one has been able to take away my emptiness like this. No one.
I catch one last look from him before he disappears down the stairwell. He can’t leave. He can’t. I let go of my key still in the door. I drop my heels and run down the stairs after him.
The concrete stairs are cold and gritty under my feet, but I barely notice. I catch up to him at the ground floor just as he’s stepping outside, door closing behind him. I rush out after him. “Wait? You’re just leaving me here?”
“Consider this rule number one,” he calls over his shoulder.
The first rule. This causes an instinctive flare of defiance in me. I almost retort back, but as I watch him straddle that bike with his thick powerful legs I imagine how he would use those legs to drive into me and I forget to breathe.
When he looks back at me I remember myself. I cross my arms and try to pin him with a glare. He merely looks amused, infuriating me even more. I fantasize about slapping him. The fantasy turns as he grabs my wrist and pulls me against him. I grab his hair, his locks feeling like silk between my fingers, and kiss the hell out of that incredible mouth until his smirk is reduced to a quiver between my lips.
I hear the growl of the bike as it comes to life, snapping me out of this fantasy. He’s sitting on his bike staring at me with a knowing look as if he just read my mind. I flush from my cheeks to between my thighs.
“Wait,” I manage to call out before he pulls away. “What’s rule number one?”
“Patience.” As he rides away I feel the rumble of his engine all the way through my body.
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Books by Sienna Blake
See all of Sienna’s books on Amazon
A Good Wife Standalone Series
Beautiful Revenge
Mr. Blackwell’s Bride
Irish Kiss Standalone Series
Irish Kiss
Professor’s Kiss
Fighter’s Kiss ~ coming soon
Quick & Dirty Standalone Series
Three Irish Brothers
Royally Screwed
My Irish Kings ~ coming soon
Bound Duet
Bound by Lies (#1)
Bound Forever (#2)
Dark Romeo Trilogy
Love Sprung From Hate (#1)
The Scent of Roses (#2)
Hanging in the Stars (#3)
Paper Dolls
Acknowledgments
I was so worried that Dimitri was too cruel and hateful. Big massive epic thanks to Kathy of Book Detailing. Without your encouragement, this novel might not have seen the light of day.
Thank you to my early readers & reviewers: Sammy of Just Let Me Read, Julia of The Romance Rebels, Shabby & Laura of Book Bistro Blog, Wendy of Girls Just Wanna Have Books, Maria of Devilishly Dirty Book Blog, Patricia of The Bookery Review.
To Terrie of Just Let Me Read. Thank you for running the show while I focus on my writing.
Thank you Romacdesigns for that beautiful cover, as always.
And thanks to Christie of Proof Positive for your eagle eye.
About Sienna
Sienna Blake is a storyteller & inksinger, wordspinner of Happily Ever Afters with grit, and alter ego of a USA Today Bestselling Author.
She loves all things that make her heart race—rollercoasters, thrillers and rowdy unrestrained sex.
If she told you who she really was, she’d have to kill you. Because of her passion for crime and forensics, she’d totally get away with your murder. *wink*