“Wear a dress.” Cass scowled into her closet. “What is this, 1972?”

It wasn’t as if she normally dressed inappropriately for the occasion. She rarely wore jeans or sneakers and had way more skirts and blouses than casual wear. Yet he’d asked her to dress up as if she didn’t have the first clue what attire to wear to dinner.

She bit her lip and sorted through her hangers. Maybe he intended to take her someplace fancy. If that was the case, she definitely didn’t want to encourage him, because old family friends didn’t go to dinner together at swanky restaurants. They grabbed a burger and fries and maybe a movie. No, forget the movie. Too many chances for him to get handsy in a darkened theater.

Worse, too many chances for her to like it.

Rather than pick one of her fancier dresses, she decided to go for something simple and summery. The floral sundress had a million buttons down the back and a floaty skirt that looked great with strappy sandals. She’d pin up her hair, dab on some lip gloss and consider herself ready for the evening.

Then she remembered his promise to take her on his bike. A frisson of excitement skated up her spine. No, no sandals. She’d wear her rarely used cowboy boots instead.

If he thought she was underdressed, so be it. They weren’t dating. He had no right to suggest her clothing, unless she was allowed to tell him to go commando, just because.

Shaking off the very bad images that formed in her brain, she changed and did her makeup and sat down to wait at the kitchen table. He’d be late as usual—

The knock at her door made her jump. Great. She was nervous. Because of Jason. Already the night was off to a rip-roaring start.

She rose to open the back door—Jason seemed reluctant to come in through the front, which she appreciated because of all the peeping eyes around town—and sucked in a deep breath. She’d really have to stop saying yes to him without fully thinking things through. He was her friend, sort of, but that didn’t mean they had to break bread together. He already temporarily lived in her place, though at least he’d kept the spreading around of his personal belongings to a minimum. Including his large dog, who still lived with his mom. Even so, she’d been more than accommodating. What more did he want from her?

Then she opened the door and glanced down at the bouquet of wildflowers he held. Holy shit.

Myriad explanations flew through her mind and she rejected them all as silly, especially the one that indicated he might be attracted to her. Nope, no way. He’d left in the middle of sex. That proved he couldn’t be that interested. Otherwise, he would’ve finished the job last night. She’d laid there, legs in standard wishbone position, and practically begged him to fuck her with her eyes. And he’d tucked tail and run.

The stench of guilt nearly made her wrinkle her nose. The man must be trying to smooth over for his major infraction in the bro code. Ooh wee, he’d dared to go down on her. Dared to make her come. Alert the authorities, he’d orally re-deflowered Chase’s little sister. For cripes’ sake.

“What the hell are these?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

He gaped at her. So she wasn’t the typical chippie who fell all over herself when he offered her a flower or unzipped his pants. So what?

To his credit, he recovered quickly and gave her a disarming smile. “You don’t have a single flower in your apartment. These are in season. I thought they would look nice in your—”

“Trash can?”

“I suppose you could put them there, but that wouldn’t have been my first choice.” Instead of acting all hurt and put out, he eased past her and went over to the cabinet to get down her vase.

See, this was the problem with letting a guy live with you. He knew where you kept your vase for the flowers you rarely indulged in. He understood that you liked fresh hot coffee in the morning and a half grapefruit lightly sprinkled with sugar. He had a tongue that reached all the best places and curved exactly right.

Okay, not that last one.

“Let me get these in water and we can go.”

She watched him grab the scissors off the magnet on the fridge and use them to neatly snip off the ends of the flowers. Then he filled the vase, added the little packet of plant food to the water and artfully arranged the blooms. The entire time, her anger grew in direct proportion to the warmth in her belly.

“Flowers, Jason? Really?”

“Yep.” As cheerful as could be, he set the vase in the center of her table. “Perfect.” He dusted off his hands and flashed a grin, faltering as his gaze trailed down her dress.

Satisfaction surged inside her. He didn’t look pleased. Good. Perhaps she was underdressed for his make-up-for-oral dinner. “Problem?” she asked sweetly.

“You look amazing,” he rasped. “Let me see the back.”

Anxiety and arousal spiked in her belly, way down low where she had no hope of scratching the itch. “You want me to turn around?” Oh God, her voice shook.

Instead of asking twice, he gripped her elbow and gently turned her around himself. “Look at all those buttons.”

“They’re a useful way of securing clothing.” Now would be a fabulous time to stop talking. Also, a fabulous time for her to remember that she was annoyed at him for being contrite about giving her an orgasm. She shouldn’t be getting light-headed from the force of his gaze on her back.

And her backside too, she just knew it.

“They are. I’m feeling really grateful for them right now.” He leaned in and rested his chin on her shoulder, causing her to jump. “Easy. You’re skittish tonight.”

“I am not.” When he laid his hand on her stomach, he made her a liar. Lord, she practically vaulted a foot in the air.

He chuckled. “Right.”

“It was a long day.” Don’t sound defensive. Reclaim your anger. His fingers aren’t sending tendrils of heat through your dress to your skin. His mouth wasn’t all that great.

“You’ll relax tonight.” He rubbed his chin over her shoulder. “What are you wearing under this?”

She swallowed. Hard. “Standard underwear.”

“Plain white cotton?”

Somehow she hadn’t anticipated his regret speech to take this particular turn. She hadn’t correctly gauged some aspect of this. If she could figure out how to wrest back control of the conversation, it would go a long way to helping her regain her equilibrium.

“Granny panties and a sports bra.” There. That should do it.

He groaned. “Aren’t sports bras the ones that push your tits together?” He drew his thumb down the center of her back and she stumbled away before he figured out she’d lied.

She was so shocked by his reaction that it took her a second to realize how he’d referred to her breasts. His crudeness stunned her in a disturbingly visceral way.

Particularly between her thighs.

“Why are you talking to me like this?” She gripped her throat and took a step back when he stepped forward. “I’m Chase’s sister, remember?”

His sexy smile flickered, but it didn’t fade. “Pretty sure I remember that.”

“He’s your best friend.”

He backed her up to the refrigerator and braced his arm above her head. They were well matched in height, but right now he felt positively enormous in comparison. Solid, male, dominating. Overwhelming in the best way. “He is. I’m glad to have him back in my life. I really missed him.”

The unexpected flash of vulnerability in his eyes had her shoulders relaxing a fraction. “I know he felt the same. You’re the only one who ever willingly put up with his cranky butt.”

Jason laughed and fingered a loose strand of hair that clung to her cheek. She’d gone with her planned bun, but he wasn’t staring at her as if he found her inadequately dressed. Actually, he was looking at her as if he intended to get her even more inadequately dressed in a hot second. “I missed you too, you know. I don’t think I ever told you that.”

“No,” she whispered. She wasn’t entirely sure she believed him. He certainly hadn’t acted as if he’d missed her during all those years he hadn’t called. Or even sent a “hey, what’s up?” postcard from any of the fabulous places he’d visited with his team. “You didn’t.”

He moved in a bit more. Lowered his chin so he could peer directly into her eyes. “Did you ever miss me? Even a little?”

She almost lied. She wanted to lie with a passionate fervor. But she couldn’t, not when he loomed over her and caged her in. “Sure.”

“How much?”

Enough to have fantasized about you doing what you did last night about fifty times since you walked into my shop last summer to tell me about Russ. “A reasonable amount,” she managed, darting her gaze away when he licked his lips as slowly as he ate her ice cream.

As he ate her other things.

“Aw, Chanel, you say the sweetest things.” His voice was warm and thick and gooey like caramel. “Guess where we’re going for dinner?”

To my bedroom to finish where we left off last night.

She shook her head to clear it. “I have no idea.”

“Yes, you do. Cam’s Crab Shack.”

“But you hate seafood.”

“Nah.” He ran his knuckles over her cheek and pulled away as she caught herself leaning in for more. “I learned to like fried shrimp. And I know you love that place, so it works for me. I haven’t been there since I’ve been back.” He held out his hand and she took it, mainly because she didn’t want to be rude.

Right.

He led her outside and watched closely while she locked up. Then she leaned against the railing and grinned down at his big hulking red Harley. “We’re really taking that?”

“We really are.” He rubbed her lower back and shot her a conspiratorial grin. “Don’t tell Chase.”

She snorted. “As if I’d tell him anything we’ve been up to lately.”

Something dark flashed over his face as she turned toward the metal steps. She faltered, wondering if she should apologize, but he eased past her and took the stairs two at a time.

Too bad she couldn’t bulk stock up on apology gift cards. She’d be handing them out to Jason like candy.

Her enthusiasm slightly diminished, she followed him to his bike and gestured to the helmet he held. The pink helmet. “I assume that is for you?” she asked, arching a brow. Come to think of it, she’d never seen him wearing one, pink or otherwise.

She’d just add that to her list of things to nag him about. In this case, she’d be doing it for his own good.

“I bought this for you today. If you’re going to ride, you’re going to be safe.” He frowned. “Speaking of that, did you take your pills today? How are you feeling? Did you make sure to—”

“I’m fine. Besides, where’s your helmet? Is your brain magically squish-proof?”

He ignored her. “Maybe we should keep this evening short so you can come back and take a nap before we go down to help close.”

“I don’t nap.” She cleared her throat, thinking of the few times she’d snuck upstairs on her lunch to catch twenty minutes of shuteye. “Often. And yes, Jason, I took my pills and my vitamins and I’ve had my planned servings of fruits and vegetables. I also went for a brisk walk on my lunch. Any other questions?”

“Yes.” He pushed the helmet over her head and made her squeal. It was pretty much a given that her bun would look like a rat’s nest when she took it off again. “Tell me why I like you again?”

She didn’t know. She also didn’t know why it made her spine buzz with awareness when his long fingers flicked over the helmet strap, buckling it on her securely. Or why she found herself smiling as she looked up through the visor and saw his golden eyes lasered on hers.

Before she could say anything, he climbed on the bike and kicked it into gear. Then he looked back and cocked a brow, clearly waiting for her to hop on behind him.

Obviously she’d neglected to properly think this plan through. Getting this close to him seemed dangerous—to her libido if nothing else.

But she did it, because she’d be damned if she wasted this opportunity to live out one of her biggest fantasies. She’d watched him ride this bike so many times, envying the freedom it represented, craving the speed and the wind in her hair. Or wind on her back in this case.

She was tired of standing on the sidelines and reminding herself that she shouldn’t get too excited, that stress was the enemy, that she had to be careful, always. Her condition was under control, minus a few minor flare-ups now and then. The cops were now involved in her stalker case. She would’ve preferred to keep them out of it, but luckily she’d been able to pass off the broken window in her shop to her customers as the work of kids. If the incidents stopped, no one would realize something bigger was at work.

Between Jason and the cops and her own vigilance, they had to stop. End of story.

“Wrap your arms around me,” he said gruffly.

Swallowing hard, she slipped her arms around him, suddenly aware of the rough denim under her forearms. So much for her dressing up. He wore his usual jeans and a T-shirt and sweet Mary, did he ever look good in them. So she supposed she couldn’t complain.

“Tighter. You hold me like that and you’re going to fall right off.”

Gritting her teeth, she complied.

“Dammit, Cass, hug me like you mean it.” He dragged her arms around his waist, plastering her to his back. She stiffened and dragged in a breath that promptly whooshed out again once he zoomed out of her parking lot.

“Oh my God.” She couldn’t stop chanting it. The trees flew past her at an alarming rate and she squeezed him tighter, deciding if she had to die, she might as well feel some sexy abs before she kicked up her toes. “Oh my God. Slow down!”

“Stop screaming,” he yelled back at her. “I’m going twenty.”

She frowned. He was not going twenty. Twenty plus fifty, maybe. And she wasn’t screaming. Much.

She shut her eyes and plastered herself to his back, inhaling the scent of his minty soap and cologne and a hint of sweat. With her eyes closed, she could pretend she was swaying in the wind on a porch swing or something. Not veering around corners fast enough to nearly snap off her head.

His abdomen flexed with every turn. She pressed her wrist against his belt buckle, using it as a happy distraction from imminent squashed head syndrome, and damn if she didn’t feel a rumble of pleasure vibrate through his body. It nicely matched the vibrations between her legs from the bike.

Testing them both, she did it again. Same result. So she summoned her inner bad girl and accidentally on purpose scraped her nails over his cock.

Now there was a candidate for squashed head syndrome. The poor thing was crammed so tight in his jeans he probably couldn’t breathe. It likely didn’t help that she indulged her fascination in the width and breadth of him by using all five fingers to explore. Including beneath, to the soft sac of flesh trapped between his thighs.

Blatantly feeling up his cock made her too nervous to think about crashing. Which would’ve been a win, had he not roared into the Crab Shack’s lot, killed the engine and promptly hauled her off the motorcycle into his arms. He yanked off her helmet, tossed it on the bike, and boosted her up so that she had no choice but to wrap her still shaking legs around his thighs.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, little girl, but I’m about to take it up a notch,” he growled against her ear. “Give me your panties.”

“W-what?” Oh Lord, she was stuttering. That motorcycle ride had taken its toll. Even her hearing was off. Surely Jason hadn’t asked for her underwear. Her so not granny panties. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Take. Off. Your. Panties. Now.”

Okay, she’d heard that. She glanced around frantically, happy to see they’d parked at the far end of the lot. It was early for dinner and the place hadn’t started filling up too much yet. But that didn’t mean she could just bend over and remove her underwear.

“Don’t make me ask again, Chanel. Or I’ll do it myself.”

That probably wasn’t an idle threat. Besides, she’d wanted to let loose a little, right? She’d groped the guy’s dick for an entire mile when he couldn’t do anything about it. If he wanted to look at her panties, she supposed she owed him.

“As you wish.” She started to toss her hair, remembered it was still in an upknot and sighed. “Cover me.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not about to let anyone see that fine ass of yours.”

She started to tell him he hadn’t even seen her fine ass, then recalled a few moments the previous evening when he’d pushed her legs up nice and high. That probably wasn’t her best angle.

Don’t blush. Got it?

She wiggled her panties down under her dress, rotating her hips to make them slide a little easier. The fact that she’d worn her sexiest pair was purely coincidental since she hadn’t had the foggiest intention of getting freaky with him again. Not that they’d gotten very freaky the first time.

Damn shame, that.

Bending, she worked them down her calves, using the bike’s bulky frame and a nearby tree to disguise her movements. Jax had crossed his arms and spread his legs in a thoroughly intimidating manner that had her peeking up at his denim-cradled ass while she dragged her undies off over her boots.

“Here you go.” She huffed out a breath. “Though I find this to be an utterly pointless exercise, now you can stop whining.”

He turned to snatch the panties and held them up to his nose. Blatantly. Without even hiding what he was doing.

In the center of the clam place’s parking lot, hot as hell Jason Wilder was sniffing her panties and looking like he was enjoying every blasted second. Was she dreaming?

“I wasn’t whining before. But I might need regular doses of this to keep from whining in the future.” The grin he sent her shouldn’t have made her grin back. She wasn’t the type of woman to engage in this sort of behavior. Ever.

So why did it feel so good?

“Oh, and these are your idea of granny panties?” Completely shameless, he strung out her tiny black bikini panties between his index fingers. “If so, I can’t wait to see your idea of sexy ones.”

She started walking toward the restaurant. “What makes you think I’ll let you see them?” She tossed a smile over her shoulder in time to see him tuck her underwear in the pocket of his T-shirt like a frigging handkerchief.

“Oh, you will,” he promised.

For once she didn’t argue, because she had a feeling he was right.

For an entire hour, they ate and talked like old friends. It was almost as if she hadn’t fondled his dick for the whole motorcycle ride and he didn’t have her bikinis in his pocket. Almost. He kept taking surreptitious glances at them, wondering if she’d find him to be a rude dinner companion if he brought them out for a quick sniff during the meal.

Then again, he’d had her take them off outside. His manners wouldn’t impress anyone anytime soon.

After finishing their food—fried shrimp and fries for him, and a seafood trio basket for her—she turned down dessert in favor of a drink. She chose a shot of Fireball Cinnamon Whisky, which she threw back with the temerity of an old pro.

“Damn, that’s good.” She set down the glass and blew out a heavily cinnamon-scented breath. He wanted to kiss her so badly that he’d leaned forward before he caught himself. “Burns all the way down.”

Her cheeks were already flushed, her green eyes brighter than they’d been only a couple of moments before. He knew he shouldn’t push her to drink more, especially with her medication, so he didn’t say anything. But God, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to see her get drunk and wild. To taste the flavor of her letting loose on his tongue.

Again.

“I want more,” she said, almost to herself as she reached for her purse. “But I can’t have more. Can I?”

He ached to say yes. To offer her anything. “Sorry. That stuff’s pretty strong.”

“Yeah.” Sighing, she fanned her face. “It’s hot in here. Aren’t you hot?”

His gaze drifted unintentionally to the bodice of her sundress and her tightly beaded nipples. Her breasts were the perfect size. Not huge, not small. Just right. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat and shifted at the sudden tightening in his jeans. “Extremely. Let’s get out of here.”

“You read my mind.”

They spent ten minutes haggling over who would pay the bill—he won—then they got back on his bike. This time she wrapped her arms around him without hesitation, probably partly due to the shot. But for whatever reason, she pressed her helmet to his back and let out a loud giggle when he peeled out of the lot, kicking up rocks and dust. He reached down and cupped her small hand against his stomach, surprised and moved when she laced her fingers with his.

Such a small thing. It shouldn’t have put a boulder in his throat. He also shouldn’t have been imagining her taking off the rest of her clothes as easily as she had the panties. He should be protecting her. That wasn’t just his rightful role as Chase’s best friend, it was his literal job. Yet all he could think about was pushing her to unleash the naughty side he sensed was bubbling right below the surface of her cool, calm exterior.

“This is incredible!” she yelled over the wind. “Go faster.”

He grinned and kicked up the speed. Yeah, the shot had done its work. He couldn’t be sorry. One drink every now and then wouldn’t hurt her, even with her medication. She wasn’t Chase. Or her dad.

Jax blew out a breath. Her dad reminded him of the topic he’d purposely avoided during dinner. He could only imagine how she would respond if he told her he’d come home several evenings recently to find their parents cuddling on the couch. From the guilty looks on their faces, they hadn’t been merely holding hands either.

Part of him thought it was sweet. They were both adults, both decent, hardworking people. Cass’s dad had a new job through a temp agency and seemed to be doing better. And there was no denying Mr. Dixon was making his mom happier than he’d seen her in a very long time. So what right did he have to try to piss on their parade?

Other than the complication of the woman clinging to his back and screaming adorably next to his ear.

It’d be adorable once the ringing wore off, anyway.

He bypassed the turn to her place and kept going up into the hills that surrounded Yardley. He was envisioning a shouted argument over her need to get back right away when she surprised the shit out of him by whooping out her opinion on his detour.

“Hell yeah. Go to the bluffs.”

Grinning, he tweaked her pinky. “On it, baby.”

Early June meant lots of green in every direction. Canopies of tender leaves above, wildflowers and weeds choking the roadside. That ribbon of asphalt winding higher and higher, climbing toward the cloudless blue sky, taking them right into the sun. She clutched his hand and squealed when they started the descent, making him show off more than he normally would have. Taking the curves faster, weaving a bit so that his stomach dropped out over every rise. Her screams and laughter were the best medicine, better than any shot of whiskey or even the pair of panties tucked securely against his chest.

Hearing her like this, feeling her soft body curved so close, created an ache inside him so deep he knew there was only one possible way to sate it. Good or bad, he had to know what it was like to have her outdoors, surrounded by the lushness of summer. He could smell the earth, all those growing plants and trees, and above it all, her seductive honey scent. The warm breeze stirred it up, making him lightheaded. And hard. He yearned to drag her to the ground and push up her dress and fuck her until she was as crazed as he was. If that was even possible.

He pulled off the road onto the semi-circle clearing at the top of one of the hills, a place where high school kids had come to make out since his days at Yardley High. But this early in the evening, the secluded spot was deserted, a happy accident he hadn’t dared to hope for. He guided the bike behind a thick bunch of bushes and let his gaze wander around the place he hadn’t been in years. Trees sheltered it on two sides, offering a startling view of the Bell River and the green hillside in the distance, topped by the blue bowl of the sky.

This would be the perfect spot to make love outdoors. He didn’t make love as a rule, but with Cass, it couldn’t be anything else, no matter how hard they fucked. His love for her was a steady burn inside him. Nothing had ever snuffed it out.

Nothing ever would.

As soon as he stopped the bike, he climbed off and helped her remove her helmet. Then he pressed his mouth to hers, taking her with less finesse than he’d intended. Luckily she didn’t seem to mind. She moaned and thrust her hands into his hair, pouring all of herself into the kiss. She slashed her tongue against his, driving deep, making those little hungry noises that caused a brutal throb in his dick. He wanted to bend her back against the bike first, to undress her and see her alabaster skin gleaming from the waning glow of the sun. He’d sample every inch of her while she writhed and pleaded and grew wet and achy.

She’d never ache as much as he had all these years. It felt like he’d been waiting since the beginning of time to have her, and he couldn’t wait anymore.

He drew back from her mouth with a harsh sucking sound. “I need you.” That was as much explanation as he could give.

She nodded. “Yes. Yes. Hurry.”

As pictures formed in his mind, he pulled her to the front of the bike and climbed on behind her. “Better this way,” he murmured against her neck, sensing the questions she hadn’t voiced. “Don’t want everyone to know right away that I’m fucking you out here.”

She grabbed the handlebars and leaned forward, her gaze riveted on the winding river and lush valley beyond that spread out beneath them. So much green, with little houses and streams dotting the landscape. Pops of color here and there, the starkness of a broken, mangled tree. He found the view even more beautiful for its flaws.

“Yes,” she whispered, reaching up with her free hand to loosen her hair. The red strands poured down her back and he foolishly tried to catch them, as mesmerized by the image of her hair as she was by the countryside. “Don’t stop this time.”

“Fucking count on it,” he gritted out, abandoning her hair to go to work on her buttons. He undid three at the top so he could kiss her scattered freckles then went to work on the bottom, indulging himself with the simple act rather than shoving up her dress and ramming into her. Even when his patience was at its end, he found more for Cass. Only for her.

He was so busy undoing buttons that he didn’t notice her shrugging out of her top, somehow wiggling until it slipped down and barely contained her breasts. She wore a strapless bra, a fact he realized with a groan as she shifted toward him. A hint of pink lace peeked over the top of her dress. A small, sexy tease. And while he watched, she lowered her arm and let the dress fall to her waist, revealing more of the lingerie that matched the color of her nipples. They poked through the fabric, taunting him to make a move.

Before he could, she flicked the clasp between her breasts and the cups fell away, baring her tits to him and God and country in one fell swoop.

Nearly choking on his impatience, he swung his gaze around. They were still alone. But dammit, he couldn’t let her sit astride his bike with her tits bouncing while he fucked her from behind—

Oh hell yes, he could.

“We’ll make it quick,” he promised, latching onto her neck with a ferocity that first made her laugh and then made her moan. “Are you wet? Ah, hell, let me see.” Without preamble, he nudged her toward the handlebars and parted her thighs, letting out a grunt of pure relief when he found her thighs streaked with moisture. “You like to ride, don’t you? Jesus. You should’ve told me before.”

“Lots you should’ve told me,” she shot back. He didn’t know exactly what that meant, but now wasn’t the time to figure it out. “Now fucking fuck me, Wilder.”

He couldn’t stop the grin. She was so hot it was a wonder she didn’t singe the skin off his fingers every time he touched her. “Yes, ma’am.” As he dug in his pocket for his wallet, he nipped her bare shoulder. “You know, you could get things started for me…”

Instead of reaching down to rub her clit as he’d hoped, she reached back to caress his erection through his jeans and he hissed out a breath. “It’s always about you, isn’t it?” She clamped her palm around his length and the sun turned into a fireball capable of searing his retinas. “Horny bastard.”

The amusement in her voice vanished when he grabbed her around the waist with one arm and tugged her backwards, practically onto his lap. The wallet fell to the ground forgotten, but he had the condom between his fingers and that was all he cared about. “You’ve done it now.” He bit her earlobe, hard. “Now I won’t fuck you until you beg for my cock. Plead for it. And make it convincing or else I’ll just keep doing this—” he pinched each of her nipples in turn, “—while you get wetter and wetter and more frustrated.”

He didn’t mention his own epic-level frustration. He’d shoot all over her back before he missed the opportunity to hear those pretty, prim lips begging for his dick. She had a dirty girl inside her raging to get out, and he wanted to be the one who unlocked the cage.

She didn’t respond for so long he wondered if he’d gone too far. Then she reached back to palm his cock through his jeans. He swiftly ripped down his zipper and she shifted so her nimble fingers could probe past the folds of his boxers to torment bare skin. “Maybe I’ll make you beg too.” Her voice was softer than his, but no less raw. “You’re the one with my panties in your pocket.”

“I am. And before we’re through, I’m going to bend you over these handlebars and bury my face in your pussy. You’re going to scream for me so loud that even those people down there in that little blue house are going to hear. That little old lady putting her wash on the line is going to drop her bucket when you shout out for me.”

She giggled, but she’d started quivering when he’d used the word pussy. That seemed to be a trigger for her. “Lots of talk, Wilder. No action yet.”

Hauling her head back, pressing the condom to her throat, he flipped up her dress and surged two fingers in all the way up to the hilt. “That feel like talk to you?” He sucked on the side of her neck and shifted the rubber into his palm so he could feel the frantic beat of her pulse. “You know what it feels like to me?”

She quivered again. “Tell me.”

“You’re so tight and wet around me. Like you were made for my cock. That even your body knows something you can’t admit.” She moaned and he razored his teeth down the line of her throat, increasing the pressure until her skin turned pink. “You want it. Stop lying to yourself and be honest for fucking once in your life.”

“Yes, I want it. I want your cock in me, deep and hard.” The words burst out of her in rapid fire succession while she massaged his length with such enthusiasm that his own fingers lost their momentum. “I want you to fuck me until I scream. Until I’m not the good girl everyone thinks I am. Because I’m not. I’m not.” She whirled to look at him, her green eyes mad with longing—and more. So much more. “Make me what I am, Jax. Don’t let me deny it any longer.”

His lungs cramped and his throat convulsed around everything he wished he had balls enough to say. That he wasn’t looking for only a good fuck, that he didn’t see her that way no matter what they said or did. He’d craved her for so long that his bloodstream hummed with her nearness, his body revving at the possibility that he’d finally, finally get to know her beyond the insults they used to push each other away.

But he didn’t say any of that. She needed something much more primal than promises she would never believe. So he tore open the condom with his teeth and fumbled his cock out of his pants, forcing down the latex with clumsy fingers. Then he pushed her forward, rising up behind her until he fisted his cock over the taut swells of her perfect ass. “Grip that handlebar,” he rasped, “and reach down with your other hand and guide me home. Put me in you.”

If she’d balked, he would’ve done it himself. His cock jerked against his fist in his urgency and it took a battle of extreme proportions to wait while she arched up enough to get her hand around him. She whimpered and he shut his eyes, taking a moment’s respite before he opened them as she led him to the swollen pink lips of her pussy. She didn’t ease back on him right away, instead choosing to tease them both first, rubbing him over her so that slick trails of her arousal stretched between their bodies.

It was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen—until she pushed up and took him inside in one slow, satisfying roll of her hips.

“God.” He could barely speak, but he had to tell her. Had to let her know what this meant, that she’d share this much of herself with him. Even it was just horniness, or desperation to shed her good girl persona, he’d never stop being grateful for this gift. “Don’t move, sweetheart. Let me feel you like this for a minute.”

She gripped the handlebar until her knuckles went white. “Can’t. Please move.” She purred in her throat, a primitive call to the animal inside him. “Have to… God, Jax.”

“Yeah.” He got it. Did he ever. “Hang on, baby. Both hands.”

Obeying him, she tilted up her ass and his vision blurred at the edges. “Please. Fuck me.”

Those three words scorched a path of lightning through his veins. He couldn’t have ignored her plea if he’d been a stone statue.

He gripped her hips and yanked himself out, hovering with the tip inside while she shivered and shook. Then he sank in, slow and deep, pushing on until she cried out. He shoved his jeans down farther and urged her forward, changing the angle as he began to hammer in and out of her in short, driving strokes. He leaned up, desperate to see her breasts bobbing from the force of his thrusts. God. Too damn much.

Hauling her back, he shoved his arm up between her breasts and slid his thumb between her lips. “Suck it like it’s my cock,” he panted hotly in her ear. “Show me you like this.” He rotated his hips again, jockeying her upward so that he could surge even deeper. “Suck me,” he demanded when she only moaned and let her head loll back so that they were cheek to sweaty cheek.

Her plump mouth closed around him and with one strong pull, he was lost to her. Letting out a ragged groan, he dropped his forehead to her neck and pumped in and out in time with her wet sucks. She licked and bit, traveling up his thumb to the fleshy part of his palm where she used her teeth.

When she turned her head away to gasp, he reached down to cup her full breast with his now sore hand, roughly palming first one then the other. He licked a path under her jaw. “Like that, sweetheart?” He coasted his fingers down the damp slope of her torso and pressed low on her belly, increasing the friction. “Feel how deep I am?”

She took long enough to answer that his heart stuttered. “Cass?” He stilled his hips, fear drenching him in a cold drowning wave. He shifted her face toward his, absorbing the flush of her cheeks and the heaviness of her eyelids. “Are you okay? Talk to me. God, I’ll stop—”

“Don’t you dare.” She dug her long nails into his thigh, scoring his flesh. “I’m fine. Just really…”

“What?” he whispered frantically.

Her lips lifted but her lids didn’t. “I’m going to come, stupid. Or I was before you turned into Dr. Not-So-McDreamy mid-screw.”

His laughter burst out of him, inadvertently sending him deeper. Hitting a spot inside her that made her tremble and moan. “Let me rectify my mistake,” he murmured, pulling out and hitting that same spot again and again. She tightened around him, rocking back into his thrusts, chasing her pleasure with complete abandonment. Hair thrown back over her shoulders, breasts bouncing, hips manic.

He grabbed her face again and wrenched her back for a hungry, desperate kiss, sliding his tongue over hers, shuddering when she did the same to him. “Finish it,” he breathed, hoping she knew what he meant.

Without hesitation, she fumbled her hand between her thighs, her fingers encircling his cock where it slipped in and out of her body with ease. The scrape of her nails at their connection point nearly drove him crazy, especially when he felt her unsteady fingers start circling her clit. Slow and unsure at first, then with growing confidence. Every once in a while easing back to massage him too, multiplying the wetness between them so that their flesh slapped together slickly with each of his strokes.

Her first spasm shot a line of heat down his spine straight into his balls, turning them into painful rocks. They were compressed against the seat and he’d probably be walking funny for a week but he didn’t give a shit.

When she cried out again and her pussy began to quake, he shoved her forward and down, yanking in and out at an angle that made her cries turn thin and high. If he didn’t come soon he was going to lose his mind. He grabbed hold of her hips and dragged her ass up before driving home one last time.

His orgasm exploded through him, taking his sanity and his consciousness and his voice with it. He fell against her back as his release pulsed into the condom, helpless to do more than shake at the tornado of lust that flattened him. Somewhere in the middle of it he felt her reach back to caress his hip, tethering herself to him in that moment.

Mindless, he wrapped his arms around her belly and pressed his face into her fragrant hair. For the rest of his life, he was going to get an erection at the scent of honey and vanilla. Maybe even on cloudless sunny days too. He’d never ride past this particular clearing without remembering every minute they’d spent together in this place.

Plain and simple, he was fucked.