Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(45)

“Now I want to make sure you understand what it means,” he interrupted her again, lowering his chin, peering out at her from beneath his brows. “I want you to understand that it doesn’t change anything. That I’m still gonna drop you back in San Jose and then we’ll likely never see each other again.”

“Rock…” This time she even took a step forward, her eyes pleading. But she still didn’t take the hand he offered. “Don’t do that. We can—”

“I want you to understand that I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you, and this is assuredly my last chance to do somethin’ about it. And I know it’s selfish of me, and I probably shouldn’t ask this of you, but I want something…something good to take with me before I go. Do you understand, chere?”

For a moment she did nothing but search his eyes, her chest rising rapidly with each breath, then…bingo.

She placed her small hand in his and nodded her head, taking another step toward him. “I don’t know how you manage to make me agree to things I damn well know I shouldn’t.” Thank you, sweet, baby Jesus.

He closed his eyes on the prayer, because this woman, this fierce, beautiful, wonderful woman was essentially granting a dying man’s last wish. “I’ll make sure you won’t regret it,” he promised, pulling her to him.

And Lord have mercy, he tried to be gentle, but she came against him with her mouth open, seeking. And when his lips found hers, when his tongue delved into the dark, wet mystery of her, he lost it. Just a little bit. And the next thing he knew, he was leaning against the bike, her world-class ass cheeks cradled in his palms, overflowing his hands as he rubbed her against the length of the erection that sprang to life the minute she got within two feet of him.

She was succulent, ripe and sweet and oh-so-wantonly willing, kissing him to within an inch of his life, sucking on his tongue in the most maddeningly delicious way, giving him an idea of how she’d suck—

He groaned when she speared her fingers into his hair, opening to him further, moving against him in that fervent way that only made the ache pulse harder for both of them. He was filled with a kaleidoscope of emotions. Elation. Longing…Dread. Because this was going to be over too soon, and then there’d be no more. Nothing more. His past was going to catch up with him or he was going to catch up with his past. Either way, the end result would surely be his death, but in the meantime…

Vanessa…

She hooked the toe of her jungle boot on the dirt bike’s gearshift in order to get closer to him, in order to more completely align their bodies and—

Hot.

He could feel the heat of her womanhood, even in the jungle’s steamy atmosphere, press against his pulsing dick, and all rational thought flew from his head. In one quick move, he turned and lifted her until she was sitting on the dirt bike’s torn, leather seat, grabbing her behind the knees and jerking her toward him even as he stepped forward, wrapping her thighs around his hips. He seated himself at the apex of her legs, reveling in the warm welcome he received.

And, oh Lordy, he knew he should use more finesse. After all, this was what she was going to remember about him for the rest of her life. And he wanted it to be a memory she’d take out and savor, like a fine piece of dark chocolate, all smooth and rich and wonderful. But his suave Southern charm eluded him, and all he could seem to evoke was Genghis Khan. He was overcome with the intense desire to pillage, conquer, claim…mark?

Oui, mark. He wanted to imprint himself on her heart, on her soul. And he realized how unfair that was, realized the last thing he should want was to leave an indelible impression on her psyche, because he knew she was already halfway to falling in…maybe not love, but it was something very close to that emotion—a second cousin, if you will—with him. But, bastard that he was, he couldn’t help himself. This was the last woman he’d ever know, the only woman who’d ever made him wish things could be different, and was it too much to ask that she look back on this, on him, fondly?

No. It wasn’t. But if he wanted all of that, he needed to take it down a notch. Do her really right. She’d undoubtedly had her fair share of fervent groping and tactless fondling. Beautiful women like her always did. So, if he was determined to give her something to remember, something to really remember, he needed to sloooowwww it way down.





Chapter Twelve


“What’s wrong?” Vanessa whispered when she felt Rock pull back, when his frenzied hands stopped running all over her body like he was trying to memorize each one of her curves.

“Nothin’ in the world, chere,” he assured her in a low, delicious rumble, skating his lips across her cheek and down to her throat. At her pulse point, he stopped and sucked, and she could swear she felt it right between her legs, right where he was throbbing against her. “I just want to savor this. Don’t you?”

Savor. Yeah. She could totally go for some savoring. Of course, she’d savor it more if his pants were undone, if she could feel him in her hands, so hard and smooth, so much a man…

“Yes,” she breathed in his ear, delighted when she felt a harsh shiver cascade through his big body.

Sooo, Rock has sensitive ears, does he?

She gently bit on his lobe, sucking it between her lips, laving it delicately with the tip of her tongue. He groaned, the sound equal parts torture and rapture.