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He kissed the corner of my mouth and squeezed me in a hug before he turned in the opposite direction.
As he walked away, I now noticed a slight yet discernable limp. It added a suggestive sexiness to his swagger. My mouth was watering again as my eyes locked onto his ass, which I hadn’t had a chance to admire until right this moment. He stopped and turned on his heel as if he could feel my eyes admiring him. He probably could. If he was as well trained as I imagined he was, he definitely felt it.
“Marisa?” Damn! He could even make my name sound sexual.
“Yeah?”
“I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Yeah, okay.” God, I sounded trite. And stupid. I was tongue-tied.
“Hump Day can’t come soon enough.” His words were said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye, but I couldn’t find a funny comeback.
Before I could respond, he turned back around and kept moving toward wherever he was parked. I watched him until he turned a corner and was out of sight.
Now I’d have to go home to a cold shower and my vibrator.
I stood alone exactly where he had left me. A nagging sensation of wanting what I couldn’t have washed over me. More than that, it was an annoying feeling of just craving and wanting Tyler—to be back in his arms. Or hell, his presence in general. I wanted more kissing, more laughing, and more take my breath away moments.
I was startled by the honk of a horn and the revving of an engine.
Tyler was straddling a Ducati. He flipped up the shield on his helmet, sending a sexy as sin grin my way. Then he flipped it back down and sped off into the night.
Fuck me. He drove a motorcycle to boot. There was nothing hotter than a devilishly handsome man on a bike.
Hours later, I found myself still hot and bothered—even after a cold shower.
As I tossed and turned, I cursed and blamed my inability to fall asleep on Tyler.
Him and his magnificent mouth.
