His voice was husky, and his fingers were loosening their restraining grip on my hand. "Look, I know I seem like this hard-assed biker, but I'm not a one-night stand kind of guy."
Something twinged inside me. It wasn't guilt, but like it. What did I want, long term? I hadn't thought that far. All I knew was the burning in my belly, the dampness between my thighs, and my hand straining to touch his manhood.
"So? It doesn't have to be a one-night stand, then." I switched tactics and moved my hand away from his groin, and he let go.
I slipped my hand up beneath his shirt to run my palm over his washboard abs.
"Leo, I-god, you're driving me crazy." He tilted his head back and his eyes fluttered in pleasure at I ran both hands over his torso, exploring his muscles and hot skin. "You're pushing me to the edge. I'm not gonna be able to stop myself in a second."
"Good," I whispered, my lips against the pulsing in his throat.
I ran my hands down his torso, angling for his erection once more. I really wanted to see his cock, suddenly, see him spring free from his pants so I could touch him, put him in my mouth and my pu**y.
I thought about saying that to him, but I wasn't quite that impulsive, yet.
He grabbed my hand and gently but firmly pushed me away from him. "Goddamn it. I'm trying to be honorable here. When I picked you up, I was being...nice. Chivalrous, if you will. I didn't intend for this. I mean, god, yes, I want you. You're so f**king sexy I can't stand it, but I didn't think you'd-"
"Shane, listen. I have never, ever done anything like this in my life. I've only ever been with John, and with him, it's...always the same. Good enough, and I get off sometimes, but it's boring." I dropped my hands to my sides and tried to run my fingers through my hair to untangle it, an impossible task with it un-brushed and wet. "I want more. The argument, the reason you found me like you did, it came down to John being boring. He's nice, and calm, and stable and predictable and f**king boring. He hates it when I swear, which is often since I grew up with three older brothers, and he can only make love in the dark, in the missionary position. He works in a bank and wears khakis and a button down even on Saturdays. He never drinks more than three beers and he hates going down on me, and doesn't like it when I go down on him. He's that one guy in the whole world who doesn't like getting head, I guess."
I was on a roll now, admitting things I'd never even thought to myself, much less said out loud.
"I've been with John since I was nineteen, and he was my first, and only. I've never left the state of Michigan except for Florida once, in high school with my girlfriend Shelly. I'm bored with my life. I'm bored with John. I want more. I want more. I want excitement. I want a guy who keeps me guessing, who gets me hot just by looking at me, the way you're looking at me now. I want a guy who can sweep me off my feet. And you know what, when I saw you standing there by your Harley in your leather jacket and piercings and all that, and I misjudged you. I thought you'd be some kind of stereotypical biker. All hard-ass and ready to f**k at a moment's notice. I'm scared out of my wits right now, because I have nothing of my own. My car is in John's name, the house is in John's name, my work deposits my paycheck into an account in John's name. I don't know what I'm going to do, because I sure as hell can't ever go back to John. I don't even want to get my clothes or books or anything. I just want to be done, gone.
"And you....You make me crazy, Shane. I've known you for like an hour, and you turn me on without trying. You kissed me in the elevator and I swear my heart stopped. I've never been kissed like that, not ever, not even in my fantasies."
I was breathless at this point, worked up, hands gesturing and hair flying. Shane was watching me intently, his eyes betraying interest, lust, compassion...too many things to name, to even sort out. The man's eyes were beyond expressive; I finally understood how heroines in the erotica I read could talk about getting lost in a man's eyes. I really did, I found myself drowning in his gray-green orbs, drowning and not bothering to come up for air.
When Shane realized I'd run out of steam, he stepped toward me, took me in his arms and kissed me. His hands ran around to my back, running across my shoulders, still damp from the shower, and down to the towel's bottom edge, near my thighs. His hands found my bu**ocks, cupped them with tender hesitation. I arched my back and ran my hands up the hard ridges of his spine.
"So I'm your fresh start?" Shane's hands explored upward, mirroring my palms on his back.
"Something like that. You're my recklessness. I want this with you, and I don't care that it's crazy and impulsive. I want it, at least partially, because it's crazy and impulsive."