"Fuck. That was hot." He kissed the top of her head.
"I fuckin' needed that." She brushed a kiss on his chest.
They held each other as the setting sun dyed the sky pomegranate pink. After a long while, he asked, "You up for round two?"
She tilted her head back and with a devilish smile plastered on her face, said, "Bring it on."
Chapter Ten
Through the white blinds, lemony bars of sun slanted across the hardwood floor as Kimber cracked open her sleep-blurred eyes. At first she was disoriented, her eyes scanning the room, but then she heard him breathe and panic set in. Flung across her stomach, his arm pinned her to the bed, and she tried to slide out from under it without any luck. She turned and watched him, and he was gorgeous as he slept, his face peaceful with wisps of hair across his cheeks. His strong jaw was somewhat softened by his slumber, and his lips-oh, those wicked lips-were slightly parted, as though they waited for her tongue to enter. She wanted to sweep away the tendrils of hair and feel his rough stubble against her fingertips. He was an incredible lover, and she couldn't believe she'd let him fuck her brains out for the better part of the night.
She turned away and focused on the dust particles in the sunlight as they flitted about. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach as the enormity of what she'd done weighed down on her. Really, Kimber? Another biker? Fuck. Why didn't you resist him? But how could she have ever resisted him? He was all man-raw and powerful-and she'd been screwed the first day she'd met him at Hawk's shop. She'd been drawn to him, fluttering right to the center of his flame even though she'd pretended nonchalance. And ever since they'd kissed for the first time, a deep, slow burn had started inside her, making her yearn for him on the long summer nights until she'd almost relented and sought him out.
Then he was in her driveway, looking way too sexy in his tight jeans and sleeveless tee, his tattoos beckoning her to touch and lick them. When he'd pulled her to him on the couch, a blind passion like a fire swept over her, and she knew there was no way in hell she could stop. The previous night, he'd awakened a desire in her she never knew existed. Their fucking was better than she'd imagined. She sighed. Continuing with Throttle wasn't an option; she'd be a goddamned fool if she did, knowing the biker lifestyle. And she was pretty damn sure Throttle was very popular with the club women and hang-arounds who were voracious for biker cock. Kimber didn't want to fall for the dangerous man who slept so peacefully beside her. She'd run away from the craziness of the brotherhood, and she had no intention of jumping back into the boiling water.
She carefully lifted his arm and shimmied out from under it, then tiptoed to the bathroom to wash up. After she slipped on a gauze sundress, she closed her bedroom door and went to the kitchen to have a glass of orange juice. In the bright light of the morning, she realized she'd made a mistake that she would never repeat, even though she didn't regret her night with Throttle.
She placed two pieces of buttered bread in her toaster oven and pushed down the lever, thinking maybe she should wake him up; she definitely didn't want him to hang around. She wasn't in the mood for chit chats, and knowing his sexual appetite, he'd probably want seconds. That was something she didn't want to give.
Leaning on her white tile counter, her elbows propped on it with her chin on her hand, she watched as the neighborhood woke up: kids riding their bicycles, mothers pushing strollers, vehicles backing out of garages, and service trucks searching for addresses. His familiar scent of soap, leather, and expensive whiskey caressed her before he encircled her waist and placed a kiss on the back of her neck. "Morning." His voice was like molten lava, scorching her.
Don't even think it, Kimber. "Morning," she answered, pushing away from the counter and him. "You want some orange juice?" She scooted over to the refrigerator to create some distance from him.
He swept his eyes over her face, a scowl threatening to form. "Sure." She filled a glass and plunked it on the table, then leaned against the stove, her arms crossed over her chest. "What the fuck's going on with you?" he asked.
Exhaling, she uncrossed her arms and fixed her gaze on his. "Last night was an awesome mistake. Awesome because you totally know how to fuck a woman, but a mistake ‘cause I'm not looking for anything right now. I know we've had this lust thing going on between us, and we took care of that last night real good … ." She laughed nervously.
Throttle's expression tightened and his flinty stare unnerved her. She picked at a mosquito bite on her arm. "I'm trying to finish school, save money, and start my own business. I don't have time for-"
"I never do seconds with citizens. I'm glad you're not the clinging type. A one-night fuck suits me just fine." His curt voice lashed at her.
She swallowed the small lump forming in her throat and placed two pieces of bread on a stoneware plate. "I made you some toast." She handed it to him.
"I don't eat toast." His icy voice chilled her. "I'm outta here." Without a good-bye, he marched out of her house and slammed her screen door. She rushed over and watched him through the mesh as he sped away on his Harley. The prickly heat filtered in through the screen door and she closed it.
Don't you dare cry. This is what you wanted. They'd shared an incredible night together, satisfying the lust they'd harbored since they met. It was finished, and it was time to get back on track. Everything turned out the way she wanted it to, but why was she so miserable right then? Her phone alarm rang and she realized she was going to be late for class. Rushing to the kitchen, she poured his untouched orange juice down the sink and threw away the toast. She wiped down the counters, grabbed her books and keys, and made her way to her afternoon classes.
As fast as she rode, she still ended up being ten minutes late to her business class. Professor Redman stopped mid-sentence and pressed his lips into a white slash when she came in. Red stained her cheeks, and she shuffled over to a seat in the back of the classroom. Opening her laptop, she hid her face behind the screen. After a few seconds, the professor continued where he left off.
Kimber was lucky to have been able to be in Professor Redman's course. He was head of the business department at the college and was an esteemed academic. He'd written numerous books on a gamut of business-related subjects, and he was an in-demand national lecturer. The prof was by far the best teacher she'd ever had, and his class was one of her favorites.
While she typed copious notes, her phone vibrated. She glanced at it and saw she'd received a text message. For one brief second, she held her breath, hoping it was Throttle; then she remembered he didn't ask for her phone number, and disappointment set in. She looked at the sender-Riley. There was no way she was going to open it with Professor Redman already annoyed at her for being late. Slipping her phone in her backpack, she focused on the rest of the lecture.
After class, she sat at a table in the student center and opened Riley's text.
Riley: It's been too long. U wanna go for dinner?
Ever since she and Throttle had kissed at the shop, she'd pushed Riley away. It wasn't like they had anything going between them. He seemed nice enough, but he wasn't her type. She didn't feel anything even remotely like the electric charge that sizzled between her and Throttle whenever they saw each other. She supposed she was hopeless, destined to be mistreated by the bad boys instead of cherished by the good ones.
Kimber: Been busy. Tonight won't work. Don't want to lead u on, but too busy for anything other than studying and working right now.
Riley: U gotta eat. Right?
Kimber: Too busy for that too. Frozen or takeout while I study.
Riley: So u don't want to go out with me?
Kimber: Not looking for anything with a man right now. U're nice. U can find another girl.
Riley: I want u. I always get what I want.
Kimber reread the text a couple times. Wow, he's starting to sound kind of creepy. Time to sign off.
Kimber: Gotta go to class.
Maybe Riley wasn't such a nice guy. The guy did give off weird vibes. When they'd gone on their second and last date, he kept asking her what she was wearing under her clothes. It was like he wanted her to engage in some kinky talk by describing her underwear, and they were only on their second date. Although, she'd fucked herself to exhaustion the previous night with Throttle and they hadn't even gone out on a date. She groaned. That's it. I'm done with all men until I'm out of school and have my own business. But damn, she couldn't deny the pull that connected her and Throttle; it was something she'd never felt with any man before.