by Devyn Quinn
She bristled, a frown marring the smoothness of her forehead. “I don’t have an eating disorder. What do you mean, my kind?”
“Oh, you know, you rich bitches with your fake tan, capped teeth, and bleached hair. I bet your tits are as false as your eyelashes.”
“My breasts,” she shot back frostily, “are real.” She pointed to her breasts, accentuating the fact she was braless. “And they are all mine.” She narrowed her eyes and looked him up and down. “And what about you, Mister Tattoo King?”
Instead of taking offense, he laughed and sipped his beer. “Point taken. What I was trying to say in my crude way was you don’t have to worry about watching your waistline.”
Feeling the tension of the day settling into her neck and shoulders, Melanie reached up to rub the skin at her nape, which was tender from the sun’s scorching. She hoped she wouldn’t start to peel in a couple of days.
“Thanks. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
“No problem.” He offered a self-effacing grin. “I’ve been called worse things.”
She laughed. “And I get called a spoiled country club bitch every day.” She looked to the waitress, still waiting patiently. “You know what? Scratch the salad and bring me a double bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake. Mustard, mayonnaise, and ketchup.”
Nodding, the waitress sauntered off to get the food.
“Much better,” he approved. “I like to see a woman eat.”
She giggled like a guilty child. “Phil would just die if he saw me eating a hamburger in a diner.”
His left eyebrow went up a notch. “Phil?”
She reached out and pulled the iced tea close, wrapping both her hands around the cool glass. “My husband...ah, my ex-husband.”
“Not the hamburger-and-cheap-diner kind of guy?”
She grimaced. “Hardly. He’s more the thousand-dollar-suit-and-IPhone kind of guy.”
“So you two split up?”
“Our divorce was final this week as a matter of fact.” She turned the spotlight back on him. “You married?”
“To my bike and the road.” He fiddled with his napkin. “Seriously, no wife, no kids, not even a dog. I like to be free to go where ever I want when I want.”
“Must be nice.”
“It is, most days.” There was something wistful in his voice.
“Ever get lonely?”
“If I do, I find someone to fix it. What about you? Got kids?”
She shook her head. “No kids. Well, no kids unless you count his little girlfriend, Tammi. She’s only twenty-one. How could I compete?” She paused, her eyes filling with tears. She started to tremble, but quickly checked the bad memories at the door in her brain. In a heart-stopping, gut surging moment of awareness, she realized how stunted and stale her life had become. Getting stuck in the middle of the desert was the biggest adventure she’d had in years. And, far from hating every minute, she was surprised to realize she was, indeed, enjoying it.
From the moment Jake had pulled up, she’d been attracted to him. And sitting her ass on his motorcycle—wow! She loved the vibrations the huge machine gave off, the feeling of fear fluttering in her heart as she watched the black highway being eaten up. It was somewhat frightening but also exhilarating to know the only thing keeping her from smacking into the asphalt was the craftsmanship of the motorcycle and the skill of the driver. During their ride into town, she’d loved the feeling of danger almost as much as she’d relished the feel of her arms around his chest.
I want to feel that again, she thought. I want to feel him again.
“Why would you feel you had to compete?” he asked quietly.
His question jarred her erotic introspection, bringing her firmly back to earth. It was a question Melanie had never dared to ask herself. Initially, when Phillip had told her that there was another woman in his life, she’d refused to accept that divorce was exactly where their relationship had been heading for years. Now that she’d the time to consider it, she was beginning to realize she’d hung on to a bad marriage because deep down inside she was afraid of growing old and ill with no mate beside her.
“Because I didn’t want to be alone,” she admitted, swallowing hard. She couldn’t go on. Her throat was thick with the ache to cry.
He gave her a long, penetrating look. “Trust me. You won’t be alone long.”
She forced herself to swallow the ache. Why was she letting this stranger get so close anyway? He’d probably ride off down the road in a few hours, and she’d never see him again. “I wish that were true.”
“I think it will be.”
The food arrived, giving her a chance to recover her composure as they dug into their meals. Her burger was practically the size of the plate. She picked it up with both hands, taking a hearty bite. Though it might be a little diner in a dead-end town, the cook made the best burger she’d ever tasted in her life. There were two patties, heaped with bacon, melted cheese, tomatoes, and onions. The bun was lightly toasted, greasy as hell, but she had no problem swallowing it. She took a second bite and then a third.
“God, that’s so good,” she enthused, dumping ketchup on her fries and salting them. She hadn’t eaten like this since she was a teenager, and it felt great to just let go and eat what she wanted, knowing there would be no subtle shake of the head and knitted brow across the table. She gobbled down a French fry. You never realize you are a prisoner until you’re free.
“See? I told you some good food would make you feel better.” Jake laughed and cut into his steak. It was almost burnt black and, to him, seemed perfect. He was putting away the food like a stevedore. It was clear he relished his meal. Watching him eat, Melanie had to wonder if he made love with the same intensity.
“Jake,” she asked, “after dinner, do you think we could take a ride?” The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them.
Why in the world did I just ask that? she started to silently rail against herself then stopped. Excitement and adventure had been missing from her life for a long time. It was time to be daring, have a little fun.
He chewed slowly, then swallowed before answering. “We could. Any place you have in mind?”
She gave a shy grin and sucked at her milkshake through the long straw. “Well, I was on my way to see the caverns in Carlsbad. But since I had this little detour, maybe there’s something else to see. I hear the desert is beautiful by night.”
One corner of his mouth quirked as he watched her lick a bit of chocolate off her lips. “I think I can show you a few sights.”
Chapter Ten
Like most people, Melanie thought of the desert as being a dry, arid, and harsh land. The dusky colors, dusty air, and blazing hot temperatures were the images most people often conjured when thinking of the wide-open spaces. At night, however, the desert changed. Temperatures cooled, light breezes blew, and the animals taking refuge from the heat came to life. The sandy flats and rocky hillsides were breathtaking under the moon’s clear light, and the black velvet sky seemed to stretch on forever, an endless vista as vast as the land.
She wasn’t sure how far they’d ridden when Jake pulled his motorcycle to a stop. Miles back he’d left the main highway, navigating onto a dirt road until there was nothing to be seen but miles of empty land. He killed the engine and lights and they sat for a minute, listening to the sounds of the gentle wind. The silence was loudest of all. There was no sound of cars or any other city noise. The air was crisp, dry and clean, the wind scouring the ground until not a stray grain of sand remained.
Reluctant to unwrap her arms from around his chest, Melanie sleepily raised her head. “Where are we?”
“Nowhere,” he answered, slipping out of her arms and swinging his leg over the bike. “This is the sights out here. Miles and miles of nothing.”
Inner thighs still pulsing from the intense vibrations of the motorcycle, Melanie slid off the leather seat. Her legs were a little shaky, and she stumbled, almost falling do
wn as an agonizing cramp shot through her calf. Only Jake’s strong hand on her arm saved her from a tumble.
“Careful,” he warned, his voice husky. “The ground’s a little rocky here.”
She gave a wan smile and bent down to massage her leg. “Leg’s a little cramped, that’s all.”
Standing, she came face to face with him, realizing too late her body was far too close to his. Suddenly, he was looking at her, searching her eyes so intently she had to look away, unable to sustain the scrutiny, especially when his gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered there.
Her tender lips burned, felt so terribly dry she had to lick them. “What are you looking at?”
“You. The moonlight shining in your eyes.”
His hand touched her face, cupping it gently, his fingers skimming her skin before sliding into her hair, supporting the weight of her head when his mouth captured hers. At first the warm suckle of his mouth was restrained, cautious, and reminiscent of the first time he’d kissed her. Then he seemed to lose control, kissing her harder, his tongue probing her mouth as his own self-control was swept aside.
Without intending to, she pressed her body against his. A sweet ache bloomed in her chest. The sensation of his lips against hers was so acutely heightened, Melanie actually felt her response to it down inside her core—a familiar tensing of certain muscles, an awareness that a kiss, a little stroke would not be enough to sate her desire for this man.
“Melanie, I want you.” The sound he made as he said her name thrilled through her. It needed no translation, nor explanation. Its message was as clear as the fierce hardening of his cock against the front of his jeans. She was lost in the sensations, her mind racing as her lips moved against his. His other hand moved around her waist, pulling her closer to him as his tongue traced her bottom lip. His hands were warm against her bare skin.
Just as suddenly as their kiss began, she regretfully ended it as her mind clicked back to reality. She pulled back from him, her breathing slightly ragged.
“Jake, no…I can’t.” Her hands trembled as they slid down his arms, to his broad chest, pushing him away.
He tensed abruptly at her rejection. “Why not?” Because I’m a scuzzy biker and you’re—“
“Biker chic?” she finished with a laugh. “No, no. It’s not that at all.”
A strange flicker of emotion crossed his face. “What then?”
Melanie struggled against the lump building in her throat, threatening to cut off her air. She twisted in his grasp, trying to pull away from him, escape the masculine heat of his body, but the motorcycle behind her prevented her complete escape.
“I—I’ve only been with one man in my life,” she admitted, feeling raw inside. “I’ve never had sex with anyone but my husband.” A vein throbbed in her neck and he touched it with his fingertips, as though measuring the furious racing of her pulse. Would it turn him off?
He hesitated. His teeth were set, a muscle jerking in his jaw. “And you think that matters to me?”
Too embarrassed to answer, she lowered her head, giving a little nod.
Jake’s hand slid under her shin, lifting her head, forcing her to face him. “I think that’s awesome you’ve only been with one man,” he said gently. “It’s so rare to meet a woman who was faithful to her vows.” He was looking at her as he spoke, and for some reason, his words made her ache and tremble with a longing she could feel clear to her toes.
“I don’t want to think I’ll only have one lover,” she breathed, “but I don’t want you to think I’d make love to the first man who came along.”
“What if I told you I don’t try to have sex with every woman I rescue off the highway?” he responded evenly. “What if I told you I only make love to women who attract me, and those are few and far between?”
“I’d say it’s a good thing,” she said, voice husky with need.
He moved against her, pressing her body against the seat of the Harley. “Me, too,” he agreed, touching her as though his hands knew her body already; knew how to touch her, pleasure her.
His lips trailed down her long neck, kissing and nibbling her soft flesh. As his lips brushed her skin, his expert fingers worked the buttons of her blouse. He peeled back the material to expose her bare breasts.
“All yours, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Melanie sucked in her breath as he began to fondle her nipples. They were hard and swollen, ready for the feel of his mouth. His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing them softly. She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his callused hands against her soft skin. Dipping his head, he used the tip of his tongue to lightly trace the dusky pink circle of her erect nipple.
Her response was immediate and passionate, fingers sliding to the nape of his neck as she guided his mouth to the other breast. Her eyes were closed, lips half parted. “That feels so good.”
“It’ll feel a whole lot better in a minute.” Jake nuzzled her other nipple, sucking it into his mouth. He began to roll her recently abandoned nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Her fingers tugged harder on his hair as he paid her left nipple the same attention. One of his hands found the zipper on her skirt, tugging it open. The next thing she knew, it was pooling around her waist. He slid it from her hips. Her little white panties were all she had on.
Melanie felt his hands moving over her hips. Looking down, she watched his face as he knelt on the ground and slid the fabric over her ass and down her legs. His hot breath against her skin made her moan, and sheer excitement built inside. She wanted to grab the back of his head and pull his face against her pussy, but she controlled herself. Instead, she began to rub her breasts, teasing her nipples with the tips of her fingers.
Reaching up, Jake ran his hands between her legs, higher, toward the valley between her thighs. Unlike the desert around her, her cunt was moist with the juices of her growing desire. She drew in a sharp breath when he ran his finger up her swollen flesh. Her body shook as she pushed back, causing his finger to slip slightly inside. Her heart pounded with hard, driving beats within her chest when his finger moved deeper through the slick folds. Melanie cried out, her fingers clenching his shoulders.
Too far gone to stop what he was doing to her body, she gave herself wholly to the incredible sensations he was awakening in her body. She could hardly believe she was standing butt naked in the night desert, leaning against a motorcycle as a biker gave her oral sex. She felt wicked...and sexy. What was happening now was magical and wonderful. She realized and accepted she wasn’t a married woman any longer, ruled by the expectations and restraints of her husband. She was a single woman, free to make her own decisions. Giving in to her attraction to Jake now, showing how much she wanted and needed him would hurt no one. What was happening was between the two of them and need not concern anyone else.
“I want this to happen,” she said before she could lose her newly found courage.
“I intend for it to,” came his brash reply.
With his forehead against her belly, Jake’s tongue snaked out and licked her pussy, his hand rising to part her flesh with his fingers, exposing her pulsing clit. Melanie gasped, but moved her feet farther apart as she started grinding against his face. She moved back and forth slowly, enjoying the feel of his tongue stabbing inside of her. When his tongue circled her swollen button, she cried out like one of the night animals in heat. With his hands on her ass cheeks, he let his tongue slide up until her clit was between his lips. He sucked it into his mouth, his tongue flicking hard against the throbbing nub.
Clenching her eyes shut as orgasm overtook her, Melanie pushed down, grinding against his face, his nose rubbing against her slit. Her climax was fierce, a powerful explosion of sensations that left her weak and feeling dizzy, clinging to Jake as her body shook with the wonderful aftermath.
He stood, kissing her, and she tasted her own sweet juices on his lips. His hands moved to her waist, and with no effort at all, he was lifting her off her feet and setting her down o
n the seat of the bike so she was facing its rear. He straddled it himself, and they were face to face, her thighs sprawling open.
“Oh my God.” She laughed, wriggling her bare butt against the cool leather. “What are you doing?”
“Just hang on for the ride.”
Catching the waist of his T-shirt, he lifted it over his head, baring his chest. His skin glowed under the moon’s light, the tattoos etched into his flesh seeming to echo the symbols long ago Indians had carved onto the bare desert ground. Strange sensations thrilled through her stomach at the sight of his bare torso. Unable to resist, she reached out to touch his chest. His entire torso was covered with the tattoo of a black-robed Grim Reaper. Scythe in one hand, Death held a naked woman draped over his arm. With the tips of her fingers, she traced the Reaper’s blade inked above one dusky, flat nipple. His arms and back were also covers with skulls, demons, and other grisly images.
His skin seemed to ripple under her fingers. Feeling his tension, she tentatively traced his nipple. He drew in a sharp breath. His hand touched her thigh, gently stroking. She laughed and leaned forward, touching her lips to his chest, tracing some of the lines of the naked woman with her tongue, tasting the salty tang of his skin. Against her palm, his heart raced frantically.
“Damn.” His hands slid into her tousled hair, and he held her slightly away from him, looking into her eyes. Desire burned in his gaze, his response to her touch immediate. She could see his cock straining hard against his jeans, waiting for its freedom.
“Feel good?” Her hands moved to his thighs, moving up his jeans to the vee of his crotch. She kneaded his skin under the tough material, digging her fingernails suggestively into his flesh. She heard him moan, the sound thrilling her. She heard him catch his breath next, felt the heat radiating from his body.
“Oh, yeah.” He grinned and guided her hands to the grips on the handlebars, than ran his hands over her hips and down her thighs, propping her feet on the footrests. Just like in a pair of stirrups in the gynecologist’s office, she was spread open for his examination. “But you feel a whole hell of a lot better.”
