“Well, what can we do to make your trip worthwhile, Hudson?” The soft lilt of her tone told me she knew exactly what effect she had on me.
“I can think of a few things,” I breathed, taking advantage of the low light and sliding in a little closer. I was drawn to her like a magnet, our bodies hovering just at the edge of contact, close enough to drive us both a little insane. Skylar closed her eyes, a soft shiver racing through her body when my fingers darted across the sweet flesh of her thigh. “I bet you taste sweet.”
Her eyes fluttered closed, long lashes shadowing her high cheekbones. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t think of anything but the gorgeous woman standing in front of me, her body attuned to mine. I had to know her. Something told me I was flirting with forever with this one. I couldn't put my finger on why, but I sure as hell felt it. Like our souls were already chained together, just waiting for the bodies to catch up.
I wanted tonight with her, but I wanted all the other nights too. I wanted to figure out what made her laugh, what made her mad, what turned her on. I really wanted that last part.
“I’m not sure if your unfiltered mouth pisses me off or turns me on.” She arched one eyebrow, leaning in a little closer.
“My bet’s on the latter with the way your thighs shift and your nipples are aching under that dress.”
Her lips curved up then as she leaned a little closer, the generous swell of her gorgeous tits brushing the rock-hard slab of my chest. “Wouldn't you like to know.”
Sweet mother of God, I was a goner with this one.
Two
Skylar
Three hours after I walked into the bar, I was walking out of it, my arm linked with the sexiest, most infuriating human I’d ever met. The drop-dead gorgeous and cocky sonuvabitch had latched on, and I was surprised that I didn’t want him to let go.
Dating wasn’t my thing. Growly, irritating macho men weren’t my thing either, but this guy was both and all at once, so why the hell did my stomach turn flips every time a word came out of his mouth?
“Hop on.” Hudson held his hand out, the other on the handle of a glossy black Harley-Davidson. As if the dark tattoos licking his forearms and the gauge in one ear weren’t enough, this guy riding a motorcycle cemented every ounce of his bad boy persona.
“You’ve got a bike?”
“Rode it hard all the way up here.” His eyes sparked as he watched me. Something spiraled up in my belly, arousal and need coursing through my veins and leaving me at the mercy of his every whim.
“I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.” I grasped his hand with mine.
“Not just any motorcycle, princess. A Harley—best of the best. You can feel the power between your thighs.”
“Sounds sexy.”
“Unbelievably sexy,” he agreed, eyes crisscrossing my body before landing on my gaze again. “Climb on.”
Excitement unfurled inside me, his touch like lightning bolts shooting along my nerves and gathering at the juncture of my thighs. “Am I safe with you?”
His grin slid sideways, eyes holding mine for unwavering beats, silence pulsing between us. “You’ll never be safer than you are with me, Sky, that I can promise you.” One hand cupped my neck, drawing me to him. “I’d lose a limb before I’d let anything happen to you.”
His words bloomed slowly in my heart, filling up all the dark corners and making me believe in him. Truly believe. A guy who looked like that wasn’t one you should believe, but here I was—a lamb blindly going to my slaughter.
I’d always considered myself good at reading people, and while this guy was a little hard to decipher in some respects, the possessive aura radiated off of him. There wasn’t a bone in his body that could hurt another human being; I could feel it as much as I could see it.
“YOLO, I guess.” I slung one leg over the machine with his help, surprised when he followed me on, his hard body coming to press against my back.
“I thought you were driving?” I teased.
“I am.” His rough hands latched on to my waist and spun me in the seat, tucking my knees between his powerful thighs and the leather of the seat. His hands cupped my face, eyes focused on the soft part of my lips as I wondered what to say, what he wanted from me, what tomorrow would look like. I’d told myself earlier it was okay if this was just a one-night stand. I’d never had one, and the chaos that had been my life of late could really use a release.
But in reality, the idea of this guy walking away tomorrow morning filleted me open a little bit. I would never be a clinger—I had a career, a life, a home I loved—but something about him told me this was more. Told me that if he walked away, it would leave me shattered.