Secretly Craving You(11)

"Damn," he muttered. How was he supposed to get himself under control?

Her hands trembled as she clutched at his vest. Even her legs felt unsteady to him. Nudging her chin up, he couldn't believe how aroused she appeared, her eyes midnight blue, her lips swollen and parted, waiting for him to kiss her again. He wanted nothing more than to do exactly that, flicking his tongue into her mouth, and then lift her into his arms and wrap her legs around his waist.

But he couldn't. Still holding her in place, he closed his eyes and turned his face away. Inhaling deeply, he tried to get his libido under control. Damn. When had he ever wanted a woman this badly?

Never.

Her sweet taste lingered in his mouth. Her perfume and her own unique scent teased his senses. And he'd swear he even smelled her arousal. He wanted to drop to his knees and slide his tongue into her. His cock jumped.

A second later, his phone vibrated in his pocket, startling him. A text message. No one sent him texts except his partner. Taking out his phone, he quickly read the message from Pierce—Get her out of there!

What the hell? Trying to maintain his calm façade, he scanned the surroundings, arousal draining from his body, leaving him cold. Apparently he had a ghost tonight—another police officer posing as a regular customer and backing him up. And clearly he knew something Nick didn't.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath.

"What is it?" Emily asked.

"What do you say we get out of here and have some fun?" He hoped the line, if anyone heard it, was enough to cover his tracks. Suspicious behavior or not, they had to leave now.

Taking her hand, Nick calmly moved past the huge bouncer at the door. Kurt called out something behind them, but Nick didn't have time to make up an excuse for leaving the band in the lurch. With Emily, he strode out into the humid heat of the Atlanta night.

"Whew. I'm glad to be out of there," she said.

The quietness of the dim street hurt his ears in the absence of the loud music. He scanned the area for danger. "Did you bring your car here?" he asked low, not seeing her white luxury sedan nearby.

"No, I left it at the hotel and came to the bar in a taxi."

He slid his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to whisper in her ear. "Which hotel?"

She told him the name and the street. "What's going on? You glanced at your phone."

Although he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, he kept his voice low. "I'll tell you about it later." He guided Emily toward his motorcycle in the parking area and removed the helmets he'd locked in place earlier. "Know how to put this on?" he asked, handing her one.

"Um." Frowning, she eyed the helmet as if it were a puzzle to be worked out. "Can't we call a taxi?"

"We have great transportation right here. And, no, we don't have time to wait for a taxi." He tugged the helmet over her head and secured the chin strap, then put his on. "Throw your leg across. We have to hurry." He held the bike steady.

"Why?"

"I'll tell you later."

She did as he said, looking hot straddling his motorcycle seat. But he had more important things to focus on now than how damned sexy she was and how he wanted to be the thing she was straddling. Hell, her crotch was now almost exposed. She tried to yank her short dress down, but that would do no good. Trying to ignore her lusciousness, he got on in front of her.

She didn't have to tell him she'd never ridden a motorcycle before. It was obvious.

* * * *

Jumping up, Nick cranked the bike with the kick-starter, causing it to rumble and vibrate. Exhaust fumes wafted up Emily's nose and into her lungs. She lapsed into a coughing, gasping fit.

Oh god, what had she gotten herself into?

He dropped onto the seat between her knees, reached back for her hands and drew them around his waist. "You okay?" he asked over the roar of the engine.

No, I'm not okay, she wanted to yell, but nodded and gulped fresh air, finally recovering.

Why had he left the bar so abruptly? No matter the reason, she wasn't arguing. She wanted out of there. But now, to have to ride a motorcycle in a short dress? Ugh.

This position shouldn't be sexual, but it was. He sat between her spread legs, her knees framing his narrow hips and her fingers brushing his bare, washboard stomach through the open front of his leather vest. Her heart rate spiked. So…that's what ripped abs felt like. Hard. She almost sighed.

The rebellious part of her wanted to stroke her fingers up and down and explore, maybe even slide them lower and rub his cock, which she knew had been erect and rock-hard moments ago, during their kiss. The knowledge that she'd turned him on made her head spin with giddy excitement. Instead of stroking him, she closed her empty hand, digging her nails into her palm.