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His gaze made intense heat settle in the pit of her stomach, and her heart began pounding even harder. She tried not to concentrate on his tight jeans, his leather bomber jacket or the diamond stud earring in his left ear. But that only left his face, which in itself was a total turn-on. His hair was cut close to his head and his skin was a smooth coppery brown. His eyes were so dark they appeared to be black satin. His nose was firm and his cheekbones chiseled. But it was his mouth that had her full attention. She was flooded with memories of how that mouth had felt against hers and how it had tasted. It was full, generously curved, and enticing with a capital E. It suddenly occurred to her that she had never seen him smile. Around her he always wore a frown.
Even now.
Even that night he had kissed her.
She sighed, not wanting to remember that night although she knew she’d never forget it. “Thorn, what are you doing here?” she cleared her throat and asked.
“Isn’t there a card game here tonight?” he responded in a voice too good to be real. A deep huskiness lingered in its tone and the throaty depth of it held a sensuality that was like a silken thread wrapping all around her, increasing the rhythm of her heart.
She cleared her throat again when he raised his brow, waiting for her response. “Yes, but you’re early. It doesn’t start until nine.”
“Nine?” he lifted a dark, brooding brow. “I could have sworn Stone said the game started at seven-thirty.” He glanced down at his watch. “All right, I’ll be back later,” he said curtly and turned to leave.
“Thorn?”
He turned back around and met her gaze. He was still frowning. “Yes?”
Tara knew that now would be a good time to talk to him about the Lori Chadwick’s calendar. She had mentioned it to Chase Westmoreland when he’d stopped by the hospital after Mrs. Chadwick’s visit, and he’d said there was no reason for her not to ask Thorn if he’d do it. After all, the calendar was for charity. He had warned her upfront, however, that she had her work cut out for her in persuading Thorn to do the calendar. Thorn, he’d said, detested a lot of publicity about himself. According to Chase, the last time Thorn had been involved in a publicity stunt had ended up being a love affair from hell. No amount of further probing had made Chase give her any more information than that. He had said that if she wanted to know the whole story, Thorn would have to be the one to tell her.
“You’re welcome to hang around until the others arrive if you’d like. You won’t have that long to wait. It’s only an hour and a half,” she said.
“No thanks,” he didn’t hesitate in saying. “In fact, tell my brothers that I’ve changed my mind and won’t be playing cards tonight after all.”
Tara watched as walked over to his bike, straddled his thighs over it, placed the shiny black helmet over his head, started the engine and took off as if the devil himself was chasing him.
This, Thorn thought, is the next best thing to making love to a woman.
Bearing down, he leaned onto the bike as he took a sharp curve. The smooth humming sound of the bike’s engine soothed his mind and reminded him of a woman purring out her pleasure in bed. It was the same purring sound he would love to hear from Tara Matthews’s lips.
Even with Atlanta’s cool January air hitting him, his body felt hot, as a slow burning sensation moved down his spine. He was experiencing that deep, cutting, biting awareness he encountered every time he saw Tara. His hands tightened their grip on the handlebars as he remembered how she had looked standing in the doorway wearing a pair of jeans and a tank top. He found her petite, curvy body, dark mahogany skin, light brown eyes and dark brown shoulder-length hair too distracting on one hand and too attracting on the other. It rattled him to no end that he was so physically aware of everything about her as a woman.
Even when she’d lived in Kentucky she had invaded his sleep. His dreams had been filled with forbidden and invigorating sex. Cold showers had become a habit with him. No woman had been able to invade his space at work, but she had been there too, more times than he could count. Building motorcycles and preparing for races had always gotten his total concentration—until he’d met Tara Matthews.
He’d constantly been reminded of the first time they had met. He had arrived at his sister Delaney’s apartment late one night with his four brothers playing cards and no one had a clue where Delany had gone or when she would return. At least no one had felt the need to tell him. He had lost his cool and had been one step away from murdering his brothers. Tara had stormed out of Delaney’s kitchen, with all her luscious curves fitting snugly in a short denim skirt, sexier than any woman had a right to be. And with more courage than anyone had a right to have, she had gotten all in his face. She had straightened her spine, lifted her chin and read him the riot act about the way he had questioned his brothers over Delaney’s whereabouts. She’d told him in no uncertain terms what she thought of his foul mood. All the while she’d been setting him straight, his lust had stirred to maximum proportions, and the only thing he could think about was getting her to the nearest bedroom and zapping her anger by making love to her.
The quick intensity of his desire had frightened the hell out of him, and he had resented feeling that way. After Patrice, he had vowed that no woman would be his downfall again and he’d meant it. He wasn’t having any of that.
An ache suddenly gripped his mid-section when he thought of just what he would like to have. A piece of Tara would do him just fine; just enough so that he could get her out of his system, something the kiss hadn’t accomplished. He wanted to bury himself inside her as deeply as he could and not come out until he had gotten his fill, over and over again. Such a feat might take days, weeks, even months. He had never been in this predicament before and was working hard not to let his brothers know. If they had any idea that he had the hots for their baby sister’s best friend, they would give him pure hell and he would never hear the last of it. Even now the reminder of Tara’s taste was causing his mouth to water.
And to think she had invited him to hang around her place for an hour and a half and wait for his brothers tonight. He couldn’t imagine himself alone with her for any length of time and especially not for longer than an hour. There was no way he could have done that and kept his sanity. That would have been asking for even more trouble than he had gotten into with her at Dare’s wedding.
Squaring his shoulders he leaned onto his bike as he took another sharp curve with indulgent precision, relishing the freedom and thrill of letting go in a totally uninhibited way. It was the same way he wanted to take Tara when he made love to her.
The way he would take her.
That simple acceptance strengthened his resolve and made the decision he’d just made that much easier to deal with. The restraint and control he’d tried holding on to since first meeting Tara was slowly loosening. A completely physical, emotionally free affair is what he wanted with her. It was time to stop running and meet his challenge head-on.
His next race was during Bike Week in Daytona Beach and was only seven weeks from now. Seven more weeks of celibacy to go.
While waiting he intended to get Tara primed, ripe and ready, much like this very machine he was riding. However, even with all the similarities, there was no doubt in his mind that getting Tara in his bed would be a unique experience. He would get the ride of his life and centrifugal force would definitely СКАЧАТЬ