Night with Sole Regret

TEASE ME V

Her thighs clamped down on Adam’s hips, and she clung to his chest like a cat avoiding a bath, squashing her breasts into his back so hard they ached. Maybe she should have accepted that cab ride after all.

Adam stopped at a red light and covered her hand with his. “You okay back there?” he shouted over the engine noise. “You aren’t afraid, are you?”

Afraid? Of course she wasn’t afraid. She loosened her death grip on his body and tried to relax her thighs, but they refused to cooperate.

“I’m fine!” she yelled.

When the light turned green, the pokey car in front of them forced Adam to accelerate slowly. He switched lanes, sped past the car, and whipped back into the lane in front of it.

Okay, so she was a little afraid and felt completely powerless clinging to his body. She trusted Adam and he seemed to know what he was doing, but she wished he’d take it a little easy on her. This was her first time on a motorcycle. She needed a few moments to get used to the idea of whipping around with nothing between her and the street except for air. The experience reminded her of the first time Adam had f****d her—he hadn’t taken it easy on her then either. He’d pounded her p***y so hard, she’d felt him for days afterward. And she’d found herself utterly sexually fulfilled for the first time in her life. She’d never expected to like being f****d so ruthlessly, but he’d obviously known what he was doing then too.

Madison’s leg lock loosened on his hips as she concentrated on breathing slowly. Once she relaxed, she started having fun. That was what the man did for her, tossed her straight out of her comfort zone and directly into a good time. She just needed to remember that whenever they ventured into territory new to her. This kind of adventure was part of his everyday life, so it couldn’t be that big a deal. She knew she had to let go of her sheltered existence and live a little, but being as uninhibited as he demanded her to be was still hard. Well, it was difficult at first. Once she found the courage to embrace her wild side, it was just a whole lot of fun.

She snuggled against Adam’s back and slid a hand up his chest until the steady beat of his heart pounded beneath her palm. As long as she was with him, she had nothing to fear.

They pulled into a parking lot. The bump over the curb jostled Madison into tightening her grip on Adam again.

He found a parking place near the door, set the kickstand, and shut off the bike. He removed his helmet, set it between his legs, and ran his hands through his thick black hair.

“You no longer have to cling to me like you’re going to die,” he said, his voice deep and slightly amused. “We’ve stopped now.”

She released him immediately and scrambled gracelessly from the bike. If he hadn’t caught her arm to steady her, she would have no doubt gotten good use out of her helmet when her forehead met the asphalt.

“So I guess motorcycles aren’t your thing,” he said, popping the snap on her helmet and tugging it off her head. Their eyes met, and she felt as if she’d been caught in some horrible lie.

“That was my first ride,” she said. “I liked it once I relaxed a little.”

He chuckled. “Is that why your legs finally unclamped from my hips? I thought muscle fatigue had set in.”

Her cheeks went hot. “I just had to remind myself that you knew what you were doing. That I trust you not to hurt me.” She grinned. “Unless I ask you to.”

He stroked her hair from her face. She was sure the helmet had flattened the curls, except for the long ends that had been whipped into a tangled bush by the breeze.

“No one has ever accused me of knowing what I’m doing,” he said, staring at her lips.

“That’s because they don’t take the time to really see you.”

Not that he gave anyone the chance to see him. She was pretty sure the only reason she ever got to see who he was on the inside was because she was his counselor and she’d been infinitely patient with him as she’d slowly gained his trust. It had gone against everything she’d ever been taught as a professional when she fell for the angry rock star who’d spent the first month of their counseling sessions glaring a hole through her desk and not saying a word and the second month telling her things that no one else knew about him. Even though her brain had tried to keep her from falling for him, her heart had been right—the man was worth understanding. Worth knowing. Worth loving. No job in the world was worth giving him up. She would be okay, and her situation would work out. As long as she had Adam.

“I have something to tell you,” she said, dropping her gaze to the wide zipper on his leather jacket.

“Is it good news? I’m not sure I’m up for any bad news this weekend.”

She lifted her gaze to his. It would bother him that she’d gotten fired over their relationship. He would blame himself. And it wasn’t his fault. She was the one who should have kept up the boundaries. She was the one who should have requested he see a different counselor when she started having feelings for him. She was the one who should have given him up for his own good. She was the one who should have kept her knees locked together no matter how wobbly he made them. But she’d been weak. And that wasn’t his fault at all.

“Of course it’s good news,” she said. “I have some extra time off, so I thought maybe I could tag along to the next city on the band’s tour. I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

He stared at her for what seemed like a solid minute. “Baby, I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” he said finally.

Her heart plummeted. “Oh.”

Did he have another woman in the next city? He’d told her that he’d given up all those other women, but maybe—No, she couldn’t let herself think like that. She had to trust him. Have faith in him.

“The band . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck and stared over her head. “I’d like you near, but they . . .”

“It’s okay,” she said, wincing at her dejected tone. She’d just sprung the idea on the guy out of the blue—because the single positive thing about losing her job (time off) had only just occurred to her. How had she expected him to react?

She’d expected him to be as excited by the idea as she had been.

“We’ll figure something out,” he said and climbed off the motorcycle. “You and I both know that a weekend isn’t enough time together.”

She smiled, her happiness returning. He hadn’t completely rejected the idea. But she would treat these three days and two nights as if they needed to treasure every moment. He headed for the store’s entrance and held the door open for her as he ushered her inside.

The scent of leather permeated the shop. Madison inhaled deeply. The smell of leather always reminded her of Adam. Leather jackets, pants and chaps filled long racks. Leather boots were displayed on one wall, black T-shirts on another. Bandanas and leather jewelry took up all other available space.

“Back so soon?” a rather attractive female employee asked Adam. “Not that I’m complaining.” The heavily tattooed woman smiled at Adam, and Madison—feeling inadequate and all unworldly country girl—slid her hand into his.

“I need to hook up my woman with some riding gear,” Adam explained, tugging Madison into view. “Something leather and skintight.”

“Better hook her up with a few tattoos while you’re at it,” the woman said with a smirk. “She’s too clean for the likes of you, Adam Taylor.”

“Actually, I think I’m too dirty for her.”

Madison shook her head vigorously, and the woman chuckled. “It’s a lot easier to add dirt than to clean it off,” she said. She aimed for a rack of black leather pants and started looking through them. She pulled out a pair and handed them to Madison.

Madison checked the tag, surprised they were the correct size. She held them up to her waist, trying to imagine what they’d look like on. Definitely skintight.

“Go try them on,” Adam said in her ear, his tone low and seductive. It played on her nerve endings and sent them sparking with anticipation.

“The dressing room is in the back,” the clerk said. “I’ll find you some boots.”

“I already have boots,” Madison said, peering down at her scuffed brown cowboy boots.

“I meant decent boots,” she said. “Riding boots.”

“I’ve been riding in these boots for years.” Of course her rides were on four-legged beasts, not two-wheeled machines.

“She keeps the cowboy boots,” Adam said with a grin. “She wouldn’t be my Madison without them.”

“Then we’d better go with a different leather,” the clerk said. She took the shiny black pants from Madison’s hands and replaced them with a pair of creamy white ones in a matte finish. Feathers and curvy designs had been embroidered around the top of the seat and down the hips and outer thighs with beige and black threads.

“Nice,” Adam said in that same seductive tone. He was obviously imagining her wearing them.