I mount up and head over there.
The glowing neon bar signs indicate they haven’t made last call yet. While I park and climb off my bike, the music carries to me out on the street. I walk in and find a couple of tables still occupied and a few people lingering at the bar.
Michaela is nowhere in sight.
I order a long neck and then amble toward the back hallway. There are bathrooms back here and nobody stops me.
The office door is open and Michaela is behind the desk, her attention on something behind her. I lean on the doorframe and take a sip of beer, watching her. Her hair is in that complicated braid again that goes from the crown of her head on down. She’s wearing a tight-fitting, long-sleeved black thermal shirt with the Mooney’s Pub logo over one breast. It has a scoop neck with laces up the front.
Michaela’s reading something. It looks like some kind of official letter. Her free hand toys with the gold pendant I’ve seen her wear before. She pulls it back and forth along the delicate chain. I can’t take my eyes off the soft skin of her throat. I want nothing more than to nuzzle my nose there and suck her earlobe into my mouth.
She takes a deep breath and my gaze drops to her cleavage. It’s more than I’ve ever seen her show before. And if she’s leaning over the bar in that shirt, I’ll bet she’s getting some great tips tonight.
The fabric of her shirt stretches across her breasts, accentuating them, and I want nothing more than to take them in the palms of my hands and squeeze. I’ve never wanted to touch a set of tits more than hers. I want to hear her moan while rubbing against me and begging for more.
Michaela moves and draws me from my fantasy, tossing the letter on the side credenza. Leaning an elbow on the desk, she puts her head in her hand and rubs her forehead.
“Bad news?” I ask, startling her.
She jumps, and her hand goes to her throat. “Goddamn. You scared the crap out of me.”
I grin and saunter in. “Sorry, kitten.”
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to see you’re worried about something. What’s in the letter?”
“None of your business.” She licks her lips, staring up at me. “I suppose you’re here for the club’s money.”
Before I can answer, she pulls an envelope out of a drawer and comes around the desk, holding it out to me. “I only have half of it. Here, you want to count it?”
I take the envelope and toss it on the desk. “Shut up about the money.” Then I surprise the shit out of her by grabbing her waist and hefting her up on the desktop. Before she can spew a litany of swear words at me or even utter a sound, I move between her knees, grab her face in my hands, and do what I’ve wanted to do since the moment I first laid eyes on her. I capture her mouth with mine and taste those soft, lush lips.
Her surprise works in my favor. She wasn’t ready, so her guard’s not up. Michaela’s lips are pliant and my tongue slips easily inside. I take my time exploring, tasting, realigning our mouths, and coming back again and again with soft brushes of my lips against hers. She lets me explore and take the lead in this. It surprises me how she doesn’t resist, but I’m fucking happy she’s not. I feel her hands slide up my chest to my neck, pulling me down for more.
I give it. I’ll give this girl anything she wants from me when she’s so sweet and compliant in my arms. Finally, I break off.
We’re both breathing hard, and I can’t stop from dropping my gaze to that fabulous cleavage. Of course she sees where my eyes go.
“Is this the part where you take the balance out in trade?”
“You’ve got a real sassy mouth. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“You’re just now figuring that out?”
“That’s okay. I like a woman with sass. As long as she knows when to shut up.” I take that mouth again and teach her how I like it. She gives it to me, moaning deep in her throat and it’s the sexiest sound ever. My dick is hard and I’m fighting the urge to clear off the top of the desk with one sweep of my arm, press her back and take her right here. She’d probably let me. Maybe. I’m sure I could persuade her, tempt her; lure her into agreeing to anything I ask.
But something stops me. I realize I want more from her than just a fuck, no matter how hot that fuck would be. I want it to mean something to her. For that to happen, I know I have to back off and slow this down.
I kiss her again, then press my forehead to hers, staring down into her eyes, my hands still cupping her face.
“You hungry?”
The change of topic throws her. “What?” Her voice is soft and breathy.
I pull back a few inches, giving her breathing room. “Food. You want some?”
“I’m always hungry. Bad thing about small towns? There aren’t any all-night diners, and our kitchen closed two hours ago.”
I grin. “I know a place. Come on.” I lift her off the desk.
“I have to close up.”
“Don’t you have people who can do that? I know for a fact, Cullen didn’t close the bar every single night.”
She nibbles on her lip.
I’m tempted to lean down and bite that plump bottom lip myself. “Babe, you keep right on doin’ that … You have no idea how much it turns me on.”
She frowns. “Doing what?”
I chuckle at her cluelessness. “Let’s go.”
“Don’t forget your money,” she reminds me, taking it off the desk and holding it out to me.
I shove the envelope in my back pocket, grab her hand, and lead her out to the bar. Not giving her an option, I take control, and she lets me.
Leaning across the bar, I tell Phil, “Michaela’s going with me. Close up for her.” It’s not a question.
He stares at me, dumbfounded, his eyes moving between us. Michaela is pressed against my back. I don’t wait for his response but instead move through the bar with her tight to my side and walk us to my bike.
She stops at the curb. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”
“You scared?” I challenge her, lifting a brow.
Her chin goes in the air. “Of course not.”
It’s one of the things I love about her. The girl never backs down from a challenge. I smile and hand her the helmet I’d bought for her two weeks ago knowing I was going to put this girl on the back of my bike one day soon.
She fastens it and climbs on behind me. The first touch and I’m already addicted to the feel of her curvy body pressed up against my back. I grab her hands and wrap them around my stomach, then grab her thigh and squeeze it twice. “Hold on, babe. You ready?”
She nods and I hit the throttle, roaring off down the street.
Fifteen
Michaela—
I am in love with this motorcycle! I love riding. Where has this been all my life? I’m ready to trade my dream of buying an RV in for my new dream of buying a Harley. I’m already wondering where I can take lessons.
It’s a warm night, the perfect temperature. I’m not cold at all, except when we ride out into the country and the highway rolls through dips and valleys where the mist collects. Then I get a chill and press against Sly.
More than once, Sly’s reached back with his left hand and run his palm over my thigh and squeezed. It’s addicting, that touch of his. His palm is warm and big and feels so good running over me, protective, but also affectionate.