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He cleared his throat as he climbed off the motorcycle. Now to figure out a way to get the ten or so paces to the gear cabinet where she was standing—his jeans were too snug to make walking a casual affair. He used his helmet to shield himself.
“That was so much fun. Thank you,” Anna said, breaking the silence.
He wasn’t in the mood for skirting things anymore. No purely polite response to her gratitude would come from him. “Isn’t that what a guy does?” He eased out of his jacket and hung it up in the cabinet.
“Does what?” Anna furrowed her brow, climbing out from under the pounds of leather she was wearing.
“Try to impress a woman by showing off.” He placed his helmet on the shelf, then turned to face her square-on. It took considerable effort to obscure his edginess. His attraction to her hadn’t manifested itself this strongly before. His mind was racing to keep up.
She cocked an eyebrow. Her warm brown eyes flashed. “Is that what that was?” Her lips remained parted after the question, the flirtation only provocation to the devil on his shoulder.
“Yes.” He scanned her face, waiting for one more sign—something that said it was a good idea to do what he wanted to do.
A warmth washed across her face. “If that’s you showing off, you can do that all you want.”
And there it was. He sucked in a deep breath of resolve and erased the gap between them. He clasped both hands around her neck, pushing his fingers into the silky hair at her nape and lifting her mouth to his, collecting what he wanted with a tender, but insistent kiss. Her lips were even sweeter than he remembered, the kind of dessert that makes you lick the spoon over and over again, craving one more taste.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, not relinquishing the grip he had on the back of her neck. His thumb caressed the smooth skin below her ear.
“What?” Her eyes were half open, breaths heavy enough to hear.
“Tell me you want me to stop.” His heart raced, part of him begging her to say that she wanted him, part of him knowing that it would be easier on them both if she stopped this right now. Being with Anna, as badly as he wanted her, would be pouring fuel on the flame that had dogged him for too long. “Tell me that you don’t want me to kiss you.”
Her mouth went slack, eyes wide as the day was long. “I can’t,” she muttered.
His heart was fighting to pound its way out of his chest. Whatever it was that she couldn’t do, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was. “You can’t what?”
“I can’t tell you to stop because I don’t want you to.”
A wave of relief crashed over him. One hand went to her elbow, his fingers tracing the underside of her arm until he reached her palm. “Good. Because I don’t think there’s any way I can.”
He snaked his hands around her waist and she popped up on to tiptoes, planting her arms on his shoulders. He didn’t even have to kiss her—she was all over him. As if he’d told her she’d earn a million dollars for every second they didn’t come up for air. Their tongues wound together in an endless circle. Their noses bumped as she tilted her head and came in for a different approach. She flattened her stomach against him, and he responded by lowering a hand to her bottom and tugging her hips closer to his.
The metal door of the cabinet clanged against the frame when she pushed him into it. He was still trying to keep up with what was happening, trying like hell not to fixate on where it was going. Would their first time be in the garage? That could be insanely hot. But where? Concrete floor? Tool bench? He tensed for a second. He wanted it to be better than that. If they were only going to have one night, one weekend, he wanted them both to remember it. He quieted his mind. This was not the time for overthinking. His body relaxed. That only made him more susceptible to Anna’s fire.
She hitched her leg over his hip as if she knew exactly what she was doing. Either she had far more experience than he’d ever bargained on, or she was going on pure enthusiasm. He hoped for the second, that this was her response to him, not just another time with another man.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamed about this happening?” Anna asked. Her voice was all sweet desperation.
His body came to a complete halt. Dreamed? Did this mean more to her than he’d banked on? If they were going to have their fling, they couldn’t make love in a car or on a tool bench. He needed to make this right, not merely salacious and reckless.
“Believe me, I thought about our kiss a few times over the years.”
