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She shrugged, nonchalant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Ryland.”
“Well, if that rule’s not in place right now”—he turned his back to the kids, facing her fully—“then let me say that the other night hasn’t left my mind all week. That every time I think about it I get hard. And that it’s taking every bit of restraint I have not to find the nearest storage closet and peel these clinging, wet clothes off of you.”
Her body surged with heavy, hungry desire, and her breath left her for a second. Hearing it on the phone was one thing. Hearing him say those kinds of things face to face—complete with those chameleon eyes and pirate smile—was like plugging her system into an electrical socket. Everything lit up. Buzzed. Her gaze darted toward the two kids in the room. “Pike.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“We can’t talk about this here.”
His eyes darkened—spun gold rimmed by green. “Maybe we’ve done enough talking. Maybe the next conversation shouldn’t be across phone lines. Maybe those instructions should be whispered in your ear while I—”
“Pike—”
But before she could get another word out, a group of kids bustled through the doorway, chatting loudly and breaking the moment. Oakley stepped back, putting more distance between her and Pike.
“I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Get them started on the chorus of the song. If you need help, call for one of the volunteers.”
Pike gave her a quick up-and-down perusal, as if he were saving the picture to his permanent file. “To be continued.”
She shook her head and turned away before she could get herself in trouble. She needed to get some breathing room. Pike was exciting on the phone, sexy and daring. But she could handle him in that venue. There was space, safety. But in person, the man was a full-frontal assault on her senses. Every part of her yearned to touch, to taste, to bury her nose in the crook of his neck and absorb his scent. To lick his tattoos, to bite that muscular curve of his shoulder, to glut herself on him like a starved person at a buffet. She’d always rolled her eyes at the women swooning in those Regency romances she read, but now she understood the definition. The man could knock her on her ass with a look and a few well-chosen words.
She grabbed her bag and slipped out the door, inhaling the cool air of the hallway and trying to quell the flush that had surely crept up her face. She hurried to the door that led to the back parking lot, actively avoiding any of the other staff, and pushed back out into the rain.
The storm had waned from torrential downpour to steady shower, but at this point, she was soaked anyway, so what did it matter? She jogged to her car, sloshing through the puddles, and dug into her purse for her keys. But the outside pocket she normally kept them in was empty.
“Shit.” She plunged her hand into every corner of the pocket then opened up the main zipper to see if she’d dropped them in there.
“Looking for these?”
She glanced up. Pike stood there in the rain, her keys hanging from his finger, raindrops landing on his skin and eyelashes
“You left them on the chair,” he said, slicking his hair back as he took a step closer.
Her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth. The guy was unfairly beautiful. Drenched in rain he looked even better. “You’re getting wet.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Isn’t that my line, Ms. Easton?”
She laughed, feeling ridiculous and a little embarrassed. “We’re not supposed to talk about those things.”
He took another step, his eyes not leaving hers, and she backed up until her backside bumped against her car. He took her hand and unfurled her fingers, his touch like a branding iron on her chilled skin, then placed the keys in her palm. He didn’t move forward. He didn’t cage her in. He simply held her in thrall with his presence, raindrops sliding over his skin and dripping off the ring in his eyebrow, and kept his hand on hers. His thumb traced over her knuckles. “Then let’s not talk.”
Four simple words.
That was all it took. Well, that and how irresistible he looked with rain running down his face and promise in his eyes. Every mooring inside her broke free in that one ill-advised moment. All the good intentions, all the logic, all the sense she thought she possessed drained from her. His name passed her lips, the keys hit the ground, and then her mouth was on his—hands gripping fistfuls of wet T-shirt and toes pushing off the ground.
Even though he’d been the one to throw down the challenge, he stiffened as if surprised. But as soon as her lips closed over his, he snapped into action. His hands moved to her waist and he pressed her fully against the car, taking control of the kiss. His mouth tasting and taking, his fingers biting into her sides like he was half a second from ripping her shirt from her skin.
She moaned into the kiss, and his tongue dipped into her mouth, stroking hers with blatant erotic rhythm—making promises. She could almost hear those promises as if he’d whispered them into her ear. This is how my hips will move against yours. This is how I’ll lick you. This is how slow my cock will grind inside of you. Everything inside her went bright and electric. She yanked him closer, aligning her body with his and rubbing against him like a shameless, desperate thing. She couldn’t help herself. The dam had cracked. It all felt too good. Too hot. Needful in the best way.
Pike’s hand found her hair, and he laced his fingers in the damp tresses, angling h
er head to deepen the kiss. She answered his urgency stroke for stroke, and he groaned and shifted his position, letting her feel his erection against her hip. Her sex clenched, the intensity of her arousal making her breath catch. She wanted to climb him, wrap her legs around him, beg.
But he wasn’t letting her out of the kiss. He swallowed her gasp and bit at her bottom lip, which only made her whimper again. All their movements were frantic and jerky, like bulls waiting to go into the ring and thrash everything in sight, thrash each other. He said her name and his other hand slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, grasping at her rain-slicked skin as if he couldn’t get her close enough. She let her fingers trail upward, tracing the muscles beneath his T-shirt and then curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. She gripped hard, ready to let him absorb her completely.
But when he lowered his arms to grab her thighs and bring her legs around him, seating him exactly where she most craved him, some of her brain cells sparked back to life.
They were in the parking lot of her job. Any co-worker or child could walk out the back door. And she was about to dry hump the one guy she’d sworn she’d steer clear of for all the world to see.
