Secretly Craving You(12)

She'd never imagined a motorcycle ride could be so sensual. But of course, she'd been turned on for the past ten minutes.

Remaining still, he gunned the engine, then turned his head toward her. "Hold on tight."

She nodded and released her breath, trying to get her arousal under control.

As they peeled out of the parking space, Emily's heart vaulted into her throat. Thinking she would be flung to the pavement, she tightened both arms around his waist, hugging him.

"Are you insane? Slow down!" she yelled, but knew he couldn't hear her over the growling engine. She scrunched behind him, her head pressed against his back.

Adrenaline rushed through her veins, heightening her awareness of the warm, strong man she was wrapped around. His muscles flexed and relaxed depending on what the course demanded. Okay, they weren't crashing so maybe she could relax. Nick rode all the time. He knew what he was doing…she hoped.

He maneuvered the bike smoothly around and between cars. When they made a sharp turn, he leaned into the curve with the bike. Emily had no choice but to do the same, closing her eyes and hoping her knees wouldn't scrape the pavement. The wind blew her dress up, practically baring her ass, but she could do nothing about it if she wanted to hold on.

They rode onto the expressway and he accelerated. The vibrations grew more intense, numbing her butt and her feet.

After a few moments, she relaxed enough to glance around. The combination of a rapidly passing view of the city lights and the warm summer wind rushing over her bare arms and legs spread exhilarating chills through her. Who would've guessed she'd be riding a motorcycle tonight and actually enjoying it? Holding onto Nick made it even more exciting.

They took an exit ramp and pulled down to a stop light. He wrapped a bare muscular arm around her leg and tugged her closer to him, his fingers stroking her calf. Whew, he made her want to grind against him.

Taking off with the green light, he replaced his hand on the grip. She released a sigh, missing his possessive hold. But now her crotch, covered in only thin black silk panties, was pressed tightly against his firm ass. Sexual awareness simmered inside her. She'd be lucky if she didn't leave a wet mark on his jeans.

* * * *

Nick silently cursed for the fiftieth time in ten minutes. Emily felt damn good wrapped around him. Her arms held him tight, stronger than he would've imagined. Her beautiful thighs pressed in against his hips. He stroked a hand along one of her smooth calves, wishing they were encircling his waist.

The memory of her standing naked in her bedroom a week ago sent need churning through him. Her body was perfection—her perky breasts just the right natural fullness. Her nipples were dark rosy pink—and hard when he'd seen them. Her hips were flared and very feminine, and her waist sleek.

He wanted to tongue her belly button, then move lower into those neatly trimmed, honey-blond curls surrounding her sex. He'd part her lips and bury his tongue in her slit. She would taste sweet and tangy, and he would relish devouring her.

The way she was pressed against his ass made him wonder if she was still wet from their kiss. Had to be. He'd bet his badge she was drenched, aching for him to slide his cock deep inside. He wanted nothing more than to do just that.

But he couldn't. She would never be his, dammit, so he should spare himself the torture and stop fantasizing.

A few minutes later, he parked at her hotel and cut the engine. Taking off his helmet, he surveyed their surroundings. It didn't appear anyone had followed them. He had to call his partner, and he hoped like hell his cover wasn't blown.

"Did something happen back there?" she asked, getting off the bike and removing her helmet. "I thought the band was going to play."

"Yeah, something happened all right. Come on." Enclosing her small cold hand within his own, he rushed her into the hotel. They took the elevator to the fifth floor.

Once in her posh room, he made her stand by the door while he searched the closet, under the bed, the bathroom and behind the draperies. Certain they were alone, he dialed Pierce and told him their location. His partner was only about five minutes away.

Nick clicked the phone off and eyed Emily, amazed at how gorgeous and unruffled she looked even with the shit that was going on.

"Did you notice anyone following you here from Savannah?" he asked.

Her eyes widened. "No. Why? Do you think someone did?"

"I don't know. Something's up. In the bar, I got a message from my partner saying 'get her out of there.'"

"Oh my god, why? Where was he?"

"Not in the bar. Another cop was probably watching my back, pretending to be a customer. He's the one who saw you. I don't know what's going down."

"That doesn't mean your cover's blown, does it?"