Malcolm tied up his still-damp hair at the back of his head and tossed his bag back into the corner of the living room. He folded the blanket on the couch and laid it over the arm.
“So, you do know how to clean.” She stood in the doorway and broke into a smile. But it didn’t have the same sass he was used to. He hadn’t expected her to agree with him. “Back to being silent and brooding.”
She goaded him—probably feeling a bit insecure—but he didn’t give in. It was her way of keeping things light, of pushing aside the worry. He had a better idea.
“I want to show you something.” Malcolm took her hand and led her to the front door, where he grabbed her leather jacket and his flannel shirt. As he opened the front door, he handed her jacket off to her.
“You’re going to show me something on my own property?” Her snide was back as she nudged him with her elbow. But curiosity lit her face when he stopped in front of the old barn.
He pried the wide door open and set it back against the wall. He took her hand and led her into the dim, musty atmosphere of the old structure. “Uncle Bert showed me early last night, before we started the fire.”
She shook as her hands reached for the 1976 Harley-Davidson. He loved seeing her like this, the anticipation, the raw emotion on her face. “It still runs?” she asked skeptically.
Malcolm grinned. “Smooth as that gold armband. Or so your uncle says.” He switched on the light above their heads. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It was my dad’s. He bought it for my mom. It was a bribe”—her voice broke—“to get her to marry him.” She laughed then pressed her lips together. Her fingers rode the handlebars and then trailed down the body and up over the worn leather seat. “I thought it was gone.”
“Guess not.”
“Well?” Her grin killed him. “What are we waiting for?”
He lifted the key ring with the partly torn lanyard hanging from the bike’s handle. “Not a damn thing.”
Marie reached for the key, and a tear slipped down her face as her hand wrapped around the small metal object. “I’m sorry to be such a ninny. How did I not know this was in here? All this time?”
Malcolm gave in to the need to wrap his arms around her and stepped up to her, circling her so her head was tucked right into his shoulder. She hugged him. Simple as that, and it felt good. So good. “You okay?”
“Yeah, but…I never expected to see this again. I thought Uncle Bert must have sold it after—after my parents died.” She rubbed her forehead back and forth on his chest, and her sigh warmed him. “Do you believe in God?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “Maybe.”
She shrugged then looked up into his eyes. “I kind of hope so, you know?”
“I like the idea if I want something, I can go after it.”
“And I like knowing someone bigger than me is willing to put stuff—people,” she added, lifting her brow, “in my life who are there to be my friends, there to help me, protect me, or even steer me in the right direction.”
“Are you saying I’m steering you?”
“Are you suggesting we take this bike for a ride?” She grinned at him, the seriousness from the moment before lost in the dark depths of her eyes. He wasn’t sure he could believe as she did. He wasn’t even sure how she could be such an optimist after what she’d lived through, losing her parents the way she had…
But this was simple. “Definitely.”
“Then you can steer me anywhere you please.”
Malcolm groaned as her words shot him to partially aroused, pulled her into his arms as she laughed, and squeezed her. “Let’s take her for a ride.”
“Her?” she asked, stepping back. “When I’ve got something between my legs, I like to think it’s a him.”
His pants tightened. “Um, right. I’m going to stop thinking about being between your legs now.”
Her grin widened, and she leaned in and nipped at his lips. “Don’t. Come on. Haven’t you ever wanted to do it in a barn before?”
“Fuck no. Can’t say it’s crossed my mind.”
Marie turned him and sat him on the back seat of the bike.
Fuck yes. He lifted a leg and straddled the bike. When she stood next to him, her fingers tracing circles on his chest and shoulder—a look of knowledge in her eye—he leaned against the seatback. She flicked the buttons of his fly open.
“Shit.” He wanted her. But even so, his conscience warred with him, like it normally didn’t. Why now? He should take what she was willingly offering. Right?
He wasn’t getting his pants closed again at this point, anyway.
Her fingers brushed the soft cotton covering his dick. He lightly took her wrist and caressed the length of her arm to her shoulder. He threaded his hand through her hair and drew her closer.
He lifted his hips and pulled out the small foil packet.
“Handy,” she breathed.
“Hopeful,” he said, grabbing her shirt and pulling her in so he could kiss her.
She worked him free of his boxers, not even bothering to pull down the waistband. Jesus. They were like two randy kids. Except he was thinking way too much this time. Seeing her here, at her home, placed her solidly into a friend zone.
He slowed the kiss, so he could taste every little bit of her.
Marie lifted a leg and straddled the bike. She leaned into him and sucked on his lower lip. He moaned her name, moaned into the embrace as his hands braced her rib cage. She lifted his shirt, and her touch burned him. He hadn’t made love to a woman like this, as if they were friends first.
She was different. She’d stuck by him in these last months, even though he’d dismissed her every notion to become more than friendly coworkers. She expected nothing—still.
Something he’d never had in his marriage.
The thought sent his heart racing, forced him to block doubt and worry and fear from his brain. “Put it on,” he said into her mouth as he grabbed her hand and palmed the condom into hers.
She ripped it open, set him free, and rolled it down.
He pulsed into her hand, aching at her touch. Brushing her skirt further up her legs, he gathered her closer and drew her panties out of the way. God, she was warm and soft. He took a moment to caress her, make her shiver against him as he pressed kisses on her neck and behind her ear. Then he tugged her down onto him. Her groan, the tightening of her legs at his waist, and her sharp breath forced him to stop and wait. She moved slowly at first, taking him one inch at a time.
She reached down to touch herself and, in doing so, brushed those sharp little fingernails against his abdomen, sending shards of ecstasy through him. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her neck.
With her heels on the axle under him, she began a steady rise and fall, and he matched her, thrusting into her. He gripped her sides as the ache took over. “Jesus, I’m not going to last,” he finally said.
He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. She touched his face, drawing his attention to her, and she pierced his gaze, and he watched her…
Good God, he watched her as her body was captured by release. Her back arched into his hands and he held her to his mouth, taking her tight, cotton-clad bud of her breast between his teeth. She rode him… “Oh, man,” he whispered as his own obliteration began at the base of his spine. He was completely unable to stop the train wreck of all the feelings and needs and desires from slamming into him.
***
Marie fit against his shoulder like she was born to lie there. For the first time in her entire life, she was glad her stature was delicate, because she couldn’t move. And his warm body created this perfect place to close her eyes.
When he started brushing at the length of her hair, she groaned.
She hadn’t expected this side of him, the one that would do tender things, like offer a comforting touch when she was upset. But he’d offered comfort at the house earlier, too.
“What are we going to do about this, Marie?”
Not knowing what he was looking for, she hesitated. She didn’t know. The bottom line was scarier than any possibility. “What do you want to do?”
She folded her hands on his chest and stretched, which made him slip out of her. “Oops.” She grinned and rested her chin on her hands.
Through his smile, she caught the look of uncertainty in his eyes.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered.
Even though she knew it was coming, she still moaned when he moved to clean up and set their clothing straight. She wouldn’t have minded staying there for a quick power nap.
“We’re even, then.” She dismounted, straightened her underwear and skirt, and enjoyed the stretch of her muscles. “Because I don’t know either. But I don’t want to stop.”
He chuckled. “Not to be insensitive or…shallow, but I agree.”
“How do we keep going, Malcolm? Will you trust me?”
An unidentifiable emotion flashed through his eyes. “How about we take things one day at a time?”
There was a little twisty feeling deep in her heart, but she brushed it aside. She wouldn’t ask more of him than he was willing to give. She’d chosen her road in life, and she was damn proud of how far she’d come. She had no regrets. Even if it did mean he would never truly consider her someone worthy of his partnership.
Maybe with one day at a time, she could convince him she was worth it.
“Thinking?”
She sighed. “Sorry. What a downer this turned into.”
“Sex always complicates things, Marie. Because people expect things from it. Whether it’s just the pleasure of the orgasm or a gold fucking band.”
She flinched. “You’re right, of course.” She hated that he was right. She brushed at her shirt, avoiding eye contact. “So, we take this one day at a time, then. We see what happens. I would like to call exclusive rights, though. As long as we’re enjoying each other’s company, I mean.”
“Jesus, Marie.” He grabbed her and turned her to him. “You must think I’m pure asshole.”
“No—”
He stopped her with a kiss, invading her mouth with his tongue. She rose on her toes and held on as he slowed the assault and then held her face in his hands.
“I don’t, Malcolm. I swear. The assurance goes both ways, and I want to be direct and honest with you. No doubts. Not for you or for me. Whatever you want to call this thing we’re going to do, it’s between us.”
“Okay. Good.” He squeezed her rear, making her roll her eyes and smile. One quick, firm kiss, and he let go of her. “I’ll be right back. We’re going to get out of this barn.”
Her heart fluttered, like an important page in their book had been turned. “I’m coming with you and changing into my jeans.”
He frowned and pouted.
“Seriously, Malcolm. I can’t ride with my skirt.”
“I like your skirts.”
“You do?” Marie laughed.
“I like the one that has bells on the bottom of it.”
She stared. “You’re full of surprises today.”
He shrugged. “I can hear you coming down the hall when you wear it, and I get a hard-on thinking about taking it off you.”
“Well,” she murmured, then cleared her throat. “That’s romantic.”
He huffed a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah. Sorry. You’ve been under my skin for a long time.”
“So not true.”
He didn’t bother answering, merely glared.
“Okay,” she said, as a lightness filled her. “I feel better. I thought the attraction was one-sided.”
“No,” he said shortly, grumpily even, and then he walked out, leaving her behind, grinning.