Against the Ropes
Page 51

Seriously? I’m tied to a motorcycle in the dark, and I am so aroused I want to scream? What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe I should scream. As I draw in a huge breath, Max’s mouth covers my own in a brain-searing kiss. The scream dies in my throat. Why didn’t I hear him coming?
“Time is up. You did well, baby.”
“You left me on purpose?”
“You didn’t follow the rules.”
Red sheets my vision. My hands clench into fists above my head, and my arousal fades away like a dream in the morning light. All manner of swear words pop into my head—the usual ones children learn at school, a few others I picked up in books, and some really filthy language I can’t believe I would contemplate letting fall from my lips. I toss them around in my brain and discard them all. I won’t let him do that to me. I will not be reduced to swearing.
“Untie me. Now.”
Max tugs on the ropes and they slither off my wrists. He reaches out to help me up, and I slap his hand away. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
After I ungracefully dismount the motorcycle, I stomp over to the wall toward my jacket with as much dignity as I can muster wearing only wet green panties. I. Am. So. Out. Of. Here.
Before I can tug the jacket on, Max is behind me. He slips one arm around my waist and pulls me into his body. Skin to skin. He must have removed his jacket and shirt when I was terrified and alone. How presumptuous.
“You were so sexy lying across my bike,” he murmurs in my ear. “Do you know what I wanted to do to you? Do you know where I wanted my hands, my lips, my—”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear it.” I spin around to face him. “You scared me. That wasn’t fun.”
He studies my eyes so intensely I look away to the sweep of lights in the city below.
“Tell me the truth.” His deep voice, though soft, is filled with demand.
“I am telling you the truth. You scared me. I’m so angry right now, I’m thinking about slapping you.”
His expression becomes carnal, predatory. He presses me backward against the retaining wall. The cold, rough stone scrapes against my skin. He cages me with his body and locks his eyes with mine.
“Slap me.”
“No.”
“You just said you wanted to slap me.”
My body trembles when he leans over me. “I said I was thinking about it.”
His eyes soften. “What else are you thinking, little fighter?” He cups my head with his hand and strokes his thumb over my cheek.
“I’m thinking you have a terrible seduction technique,” I grumble. “You started off well—motorcycle ride, Twin Peaks, picnic under the stars—but you lost me when you decided to play cowboy and rope yourself a filly.”
Max chuckles. “Did I lose you, or did I arouse you? Are you angry because you were scared or because it turned you on and you don’t like that it did?”
“That’s ridiculous.” I shift my weight from foot to foot. “Who would get turned on by being tied to a motorcycle and left alone in the dark?”
“You.” His hand slides down my stomach and over my mound to cup my damp heat. I suck in a sharp breath, but moving away is not an option. My betraying hips tilt toward him, asking for more.
He strokes his finger along the edge of my panties and then shoves them aside. I press my hands against his chest, intending to push him away, but my hands also aren’t following the program. Instead, they slide up his chest and circle his neck, pulling me closer to the heat of his body. Max’s finger slides along my folds and then it dips inside. My eyes slit closed and a shudder ripples through me.
“You’re so wet, baby,” he groans. He trails my wetness down my inner thigh. “Your body knows what it wants. You just need to free your mind.”
I bite my lip and turn my head away. He’s wrong. He has to be wrong. I’m not into kinky stuff. Not that I’ve ever had a chance to find out. My three sedate, ultraconservative boyfriends never tried anything except the missionary position.
“My body and my mind agree that I want to leave.”
A smile ghosts Max’s lips. “One kiss and we’ll go. You have my word.”
Desire whispers through my veins with promises of pleasure. I clench my teeth and fight it back. Bad Desire. Go away. “Fine. One kiss.”
Max’s eyes darken. He slides one hand around my waist and pulls me tight against his chest. Sparks shoot straight down my spine, and a warm, liquid sensation ripples through my body.
His breath whispers over my cheek, and I press my lips together. He is going to get a chaste kiss. A disapproving kiss. A kiss that says I like to kiss, but I don’t play those games.
“Open for me, baby.” His words send a surge of moisture between my legs. He glides his thumb over my bottom lip and presses down. I succumb instantly, like a kid in a candy store. I part my lips and allow his thumb to dip inside, and then greedily suck it like a lollipop.
“Good girl.”
His words send goose bumps dancing along my skin. Soft words. Approving words. Condescending words. I can’t muster the energy to reprimand him while his thumb is sliding in and out of my mouth making me think of other things. Naughty things.
He curls his fingers around my neck and tilts my head back, his thumb now caressing my cheek. I can’t look away. My entire being is focused on him. He leans down and covers my mouth with his, sending quivers of excitement rippling through me. His tongue glides along my lips and then dives inside, thrusting deep and filling my mouth. My brain fuzzes at the startling sensation, but he gives me no chance to recover. His fingers tighten on my neck and he draws me closer, kissing me until I can barely breathe.