whimpered, trying to hold balance on her weakened knees. She should have known Mike wouldn’t fail her and she was swept up in his arms and cradled against his chest. “Where are we going?”
“Turnabout, sweet cheeks. That and I’m not sure how long I can just stand there without taking us both to the ground.”
She frowned, trying to stick some sense to his words before taking this step. Moving into a relationship. Words failed. They failed hard and fast as her blood pumped and Mike’s hands were now gripping her, rather than simply holding.
He lowered her on the seat of the dirt bike and sat behind her. His hands slid down her arms and lifted her wrists, guiding her to the handlebars and curving her fingers around them. “You’re not allowed to let go.”
She licked her lips, and nodded, thinking now would be a good time to remind him of all of the reasons they shouldn’t be doing this, they shouldn’t be moving closer together, but farther apart. But then, the back of his hands glided along her arms and down her sides and she pretty well decided to screw being sensible. For years all of her wild stints had been based on sensible, basic needs.
But this was just for the hell of it. It was too tempting to refuse.
“Mike.”
His mouth was back on her neck, kissing and nipping as he shh’d her once again. Damn it, that should be offensive, but she was lost under the soft hiss.
“Just don’t let go.”
She gripped tighter to the bars, afraid if she let go, he’d stop. This evening had been too perfect, a quick getaway from everything, for it to end now. His hands dropped lower, lifted the edges of her skirt again.
The heat of the bike was hot on her body as he rolled the cotton up her thighs. The evening's warm summer breeze washed over her exposed skin, wrapped her in the musk scent which always seemed to be on Mike’s skin. Whether he was in the office or sweating in the sun, it was that same intoxicating scent of him. One of his hands slipped under her shirt and raised it. She lifted her arms so he could take it off, but he tsked in her ear.
“You’re breaking the rules. You can’t let go.” He grabbed her wrists and guided her hands back to the handlebars. His hands closed over hers, squeezing her fists tight to the bars. “No letting go. Period.”
She nodded, too afraid she’d never get any words out if she spoke as his hands fell back on her body. The roughened pads of his thumbs scraped over her ribs and lazy fingers dipped between her breasts, followed the curve of her bra until she shuddered in his arms.
His hand slipped under her skirt and palm flatted over her center. “You’re warm.”
He rocked his hand, pulling a groan out of her. His fingers slipped under the edge of the elastic of her panties and slid along her damp opening. “And wet. If I had to guess, I’d say you taste of honey. We’ll see about that next time.”
She whimpered as he spoke more, as his words soothed in her ear and his hands took her body in gentle ways. Dipping and searching. Tugging and twisting until she was nothing but heat and need, at his mercy and limp against his body.
“Mike,” she whispered.
He answered her plea, his stroking vigorous. Rougher. Her body wound tight, insides pulled. He nipped her shoulder, a growl rumbled up his throat, and it was over. Release streamed through her body, a moan flew past her lips. He never stopped stroking her. Never paused in his kisses along her neck, but drew it out. Pushed her to new levels with new waves of thrilling excitement until she couldn’t take anymore and crashed back on his body.
He pulled his hands from her thighs, adjusted her panties straight and flipped her skirt down. He fixed her bra and tugged her shirt down and simply hugged her to his body as she gasped for air and thoughts that didn’t simply include oh my God. And Holy Hell, again please.
“Tiffany.”
“Hmm?”
He leaned forward and held to the handlebars. He knocked the
“Turnabout, sweet cheeks. That and I’m not sure how long I can just stand there without taking us both to the ground.”
She frowned, trying to stick some sense to his words before taking this step. Moving into a relationship. Words failed. They failed hard and fast as her blood pumped and Mike’s hands were now gripping her, rather than simply holding.
He lowered her on the seat of the dirt bike and sat behind her. His hands slid down her arms and lifted her wrists, guiding her to the handlebars and curving her fingers around them. “You’re not allowed to let go.”
She licked her lips, and nodded, thinking now would be a good time to remind him of all of the reasons they shouldn’t be doing this, they shouldn’t be moving closer together, but farther apart. But then, the back of his hands glided along her arms and down her sides and she pretty well decided to screw being sensible. For years all of her wild stints had been based on sensible, basic needs.
But this was just for the hell of it. It was too tempting to refuse.
“Mike.”
His mouth was back on her neck, kissing and nipping as he shh’d her once again. Damn it, that should be offensive, but she was lost under the soft hiss.
“Just don’t let go.”
She gripped tighter to the bars, afraid if she let go, he’d stop. This evening had been too perfect, a quick getaway from everything, for it to end now. His hands dropped lower, lifted the edges of her skirt again.
The heat of the bike was hot on her body as he rolled the cotton up her thighs. The evening's warm summer breeze washed over her exposed skin, wrapped her in the musk scent which always seemed to be on Mike’s skin. Whether he was in the office or sweating in the sun, it was that same intoxicating scent of him. One of his hands slipped under her shirt and raised it. She lifted her arms so he could take it off, but he tsked in her ear.
“You’re breaking the rules. You can’t let go.” He grabbed her wrists and guided her hands back to the handlebars. His hands closed over hers, squeezing her fists tight to the bars. “No letting go. Period.”
She nodded, too afraid she’d never get any words out if she spoke as his hands fell back on her body. The roughened pads of his thumbs scraped over her ribs and lazy fingers dipped between her breasts, followed the curve of her bra until she shuddered in his arms.
His hand slipped under her skirt and palm flatted over her center. “You’re warm.”
He rocked his hand, pulling a groan out of her. His fingers slipped under the edge of the elastic of her panties and slid along her damp opening. “And wet. If I had to guess, I’d say you taste of honey. We’ll see about that next time.”
She whimpered as he spoke more, as his words soothed in her ear and his hands took her body in gentle ways. Dipping and searching. Tugging and twisting until she was nothing but heat and need, at his mercy and limp against his body.
“Mike,” she whispered.
He answered her plea, his stroking vigorous. Rougher. Her body wound tight, insides pulled. He nipped her shoulder, a growl rumbled up his throat, and it was over. Release streamed through her body, a moan flew past her lips. He never stopped stroking her. Never paused in his kisses along her neck, but drew it out. Pushed her to new levels with new waves of thrilling excitement until she couldn’t take anymore and crashed back on his body.
He pulled his hands from her thighs, adjusted her panties straight and flipped her skirt down. He fixed her bra and tugged her shirt down and simply hugged her to his body as she gasped for air and thoughts that didn’t simply include oh my God. And Holy Hell, again please.
“Tiffany.”
“Hmm?”
He leaned forward and held to the handlebars. He knocked the
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