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.I reach her thighs, still uncovered, until my eyes hit the bottom hem of the short shorts she's wearing: high-waisted black shorts, a sleeveless champagne gold, satin top loosely tucked in, and the complete ensemble accented in gold jewelry.I finally reach her face, dramatically made up with colors of cream and gold, and stand here.staring at her."Were you saying something.Haddox?"Her name rolls off my tongue.Her perfume invades my sense of smell, making me memorize it.I raise both arms, gripping my hands on the lip of the doorframe above me.She remains where she is, not making any effort to come closer.I swallow, trying to keep my testosterone levels in check.She's making it very difficult to be good.Every thought running through my mind is screaming to rid her of that clothing and continue to fuck her out of my system.I've never been so damn turned on by a woman in my life.I'm sure it's just because it's so new.It's bound to get old at some point.I take a step toward her, closing in some of the distance between us."We could stay here."She brings her arm up and touches her index finger just before my ear, then runs it down my jawline."We could, but then you wouldn't get to show me off.You wouldn't want all that hard work I've been doing to go to waste now would you?" Her voice is driving me crazy, low and seductive.She leans in, our lips almost touching.“I'm ready for my surprise, Hayes.Let's show Providence how New Yorkers do things.Don't keep me waiting," she says, and walks past me, leaving me standing in this doorway.alone.I hang my head.Fuck me.I've met my match; someone that's going to call my shit and dish it right back.Let the games begin.and I'm going to enjoy every second of play.I notice the bulge in my jeans.I stand upright and adjust myself, making it less visible.It's going to be a long night.but I'm not going to keep her waiting.I walk downstairs and see her waiting by the front door."Back door," I say and continue walking toward the garage.I hear her shoes tapping against the hardwood floor behind me, signaling that she is following.I grab the set of keys I want from the key ring by the door.This should be good.I open the door that leads into the garage and step aside, letting her pass."Ladies first."She walks to my truck and stops by the passenger side door, but I continue walking past it as well.New York City isn't a great place for driving when wanting to get anywhere in a timely manner, so I keep my trusty old blue truck there and my newer vehicles here, hidden away in my garage.This is my getaway place.I come here to relax and enjoy being away from the city.It's also a great place for scenic rides, which is why I bought this.I stop at the only vehicle made for freedom: my bike.I don't mean a Harley or a chopper either.Although popular in demand, it's just not my style.I prefer speed.This baby is built for performance.Pulling off the cover, I grab the helmet from the seat and straddle my bright red Suzuki Hayabusa.I turn and adjust the passenger seat before looking over at her.I grab the spare helmet that I keep beside my bike with my other hand and hold it out for her.Her eyes widen and her face looks mortified."You want me to ride on the back of that?""You sure as hell aren't driving until I teach you.Get on."She walks toward me, bitching the entire way, and stops directly in front of the helmet hanging off my hand."Look at what I'm wearing.Why can't we just go in the truck? Getting on that requires sneakers.I'm in designer shoes.You don't take a girl on a date on a motorcycle.Aren't most guys usually trying to avoid putting a girl on a bike instead of encouraging it?""When have I ever been like most guys since you met me? You'll be fine.Get on.If you're going to hang with me you're going to live a little.""Fine," she says and walks past me, not taking the helmet.I settle into the seat, holding my balance with the bike.She places the short strap of her handheld purse around her wrist and places her hand on my shoulder to hold herself up as she straddles the bike behind me.I turn and hand the helmet for her to take, but she just stares at it."I'm not messing up my hair, Haddox.You can drive slow.I refuse.I spent twenty minutes straightening my hair.Fuck.That.""Put it on.""No.""Piper.""Haddox.""Put the fucking helmet on, Piper.I'd rather see your beautiful face alive and free of scars with messy hair than for it to be perfectly fixed with you lying in a casket.so put the damn helmet on.Now." I trust myself with her safety, but not that much.I can only control my own driving skills.I can't control everyone else's.She growls out her frustration and snatches the helmet from my hands."You are so frustrating sometimes [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]