Read Online The Devil and Ms. Moody by Suzanne Forster - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Suzanne Forster
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stopped, she felt Diablo’s stomach muscles contract under her fingers. She quickly relaxed her grip and managed a bright smile as he glanced over his shoulder at her. Maybe he wanted to call a truce? The smile died on her lips. No such luck. The banked anger in his expression carried enough electric potential for a summer lightning storm.
“I have this thing about helpless animals,” she whispered, not wanting the other bikers to hear her. “I can’t help it. When are you going to let me out of the doghouse?”
His eyes darkened. “Ask me nice.”
Edwina never got a chance to ask him anything. The light turned green, and they roared off, Diablo cranking the throttle, and Edwina grabbing for his body. It bugged her that he always put her in a position of having to hang on to him for dear life. The fact that she liked hanging on to him for dear life was another problem entirely.
Her attraction to him baffled and amazed her. She couldn’t explain its intensity unless it was a fascination with the forbidden. Rebels had never been her type, and yet everything about this one was rivetingly sexy, from his torn low-slung jeans to his mercurial green eyes. Foremost on her mind was his physical condition when they’d awakened this morning. She could still feel the heat of him pressed against her back, his hand caressing her breast. Remembering now gave her a hard jolt of longing.
A painful shock of excitement took her as he geared into low and they roared around a curve. Edwina felt vibrations penetrate clear through to her spine. No wonder she was so twitchy and overstimulated. It was the bike, she realized. His motorcycle was rolling foreplay.
By the time they reached their destination in the Santa Ana Mountains, she was limp as a kitten from physical sensation. It had been a grueling ride for someone new to the rigors of long-distance biking. Exhausted, she rested her canvas tennies on the upper footpegs and leaned against the bike’s padded sissy bar as Diablo followed the pack to the campsite.
They rode through a beautiful heavily wooded area that bordered on a rushing river. Edwina took one look at the swirling blue water and wanted to wade in, clothes and all. It wasn’t just her imagination that had overheated. The temperature had been climbing steadily all afternoon. To her fevered brow it felt as if the mercury had peaked out somewhere in the mid-nineties.
Diablo seemed to have read her mind. He broke off from the pack as they pulled into the camping area and headed for a secluded area upriver from the rest of the gang.
“How about a swim?” he said as he pulled the bike into a lush grove of willows.
Edwina wanted desperately to feel the cool water all over her sweltering body, but she didn’t have a suit, and neither skinny-dipping nor a wet T-shirt plastered to her breasts seemed like a safe idea at the moment. Even if he could be trusted—which she doubted— she definitely couldn’t be.
“Maybe later, when we’ve set up camp,” she said, slipping off the bike. As she hit the ground, everything protested, from the arches of her feet to the muscles of her inner thighs. She ached as though she’d been riding a horse all day.
Flattening her palms on her hips, she managed a couple of creaky steps—and came nearly face-to-face with Squire. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder, and he was flanked by two other Warlords, men Edwina didn’t recognize.
“I’m gonna need your old man for a while,” he said, speaking directly to Edwina. “We’ve got some hunting to do.”
His eyes flashed a challenge. Even if Edwina had any doubt about his intentions, she couldn’t have missed the rigid authority in his posture, the steel in his voice. He was daring her to defy him. All three of them were. They were waiting, baiting her with bullying looks.
Her stomach clenched, and she turned away, defying the danger signals in Diablo’s eyes. She was beginning to hate the predicament she found herself in
“I have this thing about helpless animals,” she whispered, not wanting the other bikers to hear her. “I can’t help it. When are you going to let me out of the doghouse?”
His eyes darkened. “Ask me nice.”
Edwina never got a chance to ask him anything. The light turned green, and they roared off, Diablo cranking the throttle, and Edwina grabbing for his body. It bugged her that he always put her in a position of having to hang on to him for dear life. The fact that she liked hanging on to him for dear life was another problem entirely.
Her attraction to him baffled and amazed her. She couldn’t explain its intensity unless it was a fascination with the forbidden. Rebels had never been her type, and yet everything about this one was rivetingly sexy, from his torn low-slung jeans to his mercurial green eyes. Foremost on her mind was his physical condition when they’d awakened this morning. She could still feel the heat of him pressed against her back, his hand caressing her breast. Remembering now gave her a hard jolt of longing.
A painful shock of excitement took her as he geared into low and they roared around a curve. Edwina felt vibrations penetrate clear through to her spine. No wonder she was so twitchy and overstimulated. It was the bike, she realized. His motorcycle was rolling foreplay.
By the time they reached their destination in the Santa Ana Mountains, she was limp as a kitten from physical sensation. It had been a grueling ride for someone new to the rigors of long-distance biking. Exhausted, she rested her canvas tennies on the upper footpegs and leaned against the bike’s padded sissy bar as Diablo followed the pack to the campsite.
They rode through a beautiful heavily wooded area that bordered on a rushing river. Edwina took one look at the swirling blue water and wanted to wade in, clothes and all. It wasn’t just her imagination that had overheated. The temperature had been climbing steadily all afternoon. To her fevered brow it felt as if the mercury had peaked out somewhere in the mid-nineties.
Diablo seemed to have read her mind. He broke off from the pack as they pulled into the camping area and headed for a secluded area upriver from the rest of the gang.
“How about a swim?” he said as he pulled the bike into a lush grove of willows.
Edwina wanted desperately to feel the cool water all over her sweltering body, but she didn’t have a suit, and neither skinny-dipping nor a wet T-shirt plastered to her breasts seemed like a safe idea at the moment. Even if he could be trusted—which she doubted— she definitely couldn’t be.
“Maybe later, when we’ve set up camp,” she said, slipping off the bike. As she hit the ground, everything protested, from the arches of her feet to the muscles of her inner thighs. She ached as though she’d been riding a horse all day.
Flattening her palms on her hips, she managed a couple of creaky steps—and came nearly face-to-face with Squire. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder, and he was flanked by two other Warlords, men Edwina didn’t recognize.
“I’m gonna need your old man for a while,” he said, speaking directly to Edwina. “We’ve got some hunting to do.”
His eyes flashed a challenge. Even if Edwina had any doubt about his intentions, she couldn’t have missed the rigid authority in his posture, the steel in his voice. He was daring her to defy him. All three of them were. They were waiting, baiting her with bullying looks.
Her stomach clenched, and she turned away, defying the danger signals in Diablo’s eyes. She was beginning to hate the predicament she found herself in
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