Pushing Limits (Fighting Love #1) - kali cross Page 0,24

Brought it in case.” He grins. “A guy can dream.” He grabs my hand enclosing it in his massive one as we walk around to the side of the building. His bike is parked in a spot in the back. I recognize the 2012 model. Painted in sleek black, the bike shines and the chrome sparkles in the sun.

“Sweet ride. Saddlebags and windshield at home?” Circling it, I check it out from all angles. “Tricked it out. Damn. Custom seat, bitchin’ wheels, thunder struck exhaust, special intake. The whole thing is custom. What? Didn’t like the custom paint job? ”

“You know the bike. Impressive.” He straddles the motorcycle. Thankfully, I am far enough back I can actually check out his ass when he gets on.

Sweet Jesus, that shit is tight.

“Amber, quit checking out my ass and get on the bike.” He laughs.

“I am not checking out your ass.” I declare indignity, crossing my arms.

“Rearview mirrors, Amber. Now, get the hell on the bike.”

My turn to blush. I slip the helmet on and swing my leg over the bike, careful to tuck my skirt under my legs. I grab his belt loops.

“You know better than that.” He pulls my fingers from his loops and crosses my arms around his waist in a close hug. It’s closer than I would have if I had opted for this option in the first place.

His stomach is flat except for the ripples from what I am sure is a six pack. My face pushes against his neck and he smells delicious. Fucking delicious. My stomach clenches as he looks back at me, and my lips graze his neck. Shit, I hope I don’t leave a wet spot on the seat. Turning my head, I can’t help but lick my lips. Just a taste. His skin tastes salty and sweet.

“Aw, hell.” He turns abruptly, so he can kiss me. His lips are soft, velvety. His mouth caresses mine. I push open my mouth with his to deepen the kiss. My hands close around his face, touching his beard. It is soft….so silky. His tongue explores mine, and I moan in his mouth, shocking even myself. Fuck, I do need to get laid.

He pulls away saying, “Thought I’d get that out of the way. Been watchin’ your lips all mornin’, wondering what they taste like.” Chuckling, he points, “Rearview mirrors, Amber.” Turning the key, he revs the engine, the roar of the engine is deafening at first, but when he lets the throttle out, the engine purrs to a soft rumbling.

“Impressive machine,” I shout into his ear.

Shaking his head, he smiles and pulls out onto the street.

Great! He saw me lick my lips after they grazed his neck. Well, la-di-da, if he kisses me like that again, I’ll lick him from head to toe. The thought makes me wet, again. Shit!

***

Tommy pulls up to the record store. As we walk inside, a choir sings the hallelujah chorus in my head. Rows and rows of vinyl records fill the aisles. I am in heaven.

I graze through the stacks, checking out the selection. Man, I could spend hours in this place. I wonder if Elise remembered to send my record player when she packed my room up. My mom hates my vinyl. I’m sure this was the perfect opportunity to dump them all into the trash. Pulling my phone out, I text Elise to make sure she grabbed my records.

A few people are browsing in the store, an older couple in their fifties or sixties so we have the store to ourselves. The woman running the counter is older, and friendly. She greets us warmly when we walk in. Wearing a tie dye shirt and jeans, the prayer beads around her wrist make sense....must be a Buddhist.

I feel like a kid in a candy store. The collection is extensive, especially the older stuff. I browse around the punk section looking for anything by the Sex Pistols. Deep in thought, a voice behind me whispers, “Never figured you for a Sex Pistols fan. I’m surprised you know who they are.”

I laugh saying, “Look who’s talking, country boy.”

His blue eyes sparkling, mouth curved in a whimsical grin, looking oh-so-fucking hot in a t-shirt and jeans. I am finding it harder and harder not to jump his bones. “So, where did you hear your first vinyl?” Tommy says. His voice is a soft sexy rumble, and it’s a hard to concentrate.

“My girlfriend in Chicago turned me on to vinyl. The sound that