Need You for Always (Heroes of St. Helena)(64)

Free.

Alive.

The bike rumbled under them moments before it surged forward, and she laughed over the rich, throaty roar of the engine. As Dax leaned she followed, quickly learning the subtle cues to read his body. The way his midback muscles flexed before he dropped into a higher gear or how one side of his abs would tighten moments before he steered into a sharp turn. It was as if their bodies were communicating, talking back and forth without words, working together in the most elemental way.

It was intimate.

Almost like a hug-spoon combo where Emerson got to play the big spoon. It seemed to go on for hours and had the power to wipe away her worries. Her dad’s new job, finding Violet sleeping in her wings last night with a new fairy trap Roger had made under her bed, nothing mattered. Her mind went peacefully, pleasantly blank—lulled into a calm state by the sound of the ride.

Dax must have felt it too, because the more road they covered the more relaxed he became—and the more connected she felt.

Emerson had a deeper understanding of the stoic soldier. His wild ways were nothing more than a way to release all of the emotions that had no place else to go in his tightly controlled world. Dax kept everything carefully contained until there was time to blow steam—and blowing steam in a town with ties would be hard for a guy like him.

“How are you doing?” he yelled.

“Perfect.” Absolutely perfect.

She felt him chuckle. “We’re almost there.”

She opened her eyes, surprised to see that the Mayacamas Mountains, which separated Napa Valley from Sonoma, were behind them. And in front of them sat rows of fire-colored vineyards with metallic strips that marked the harvested vines shimmering in the afternoon sun. Off in the distance, there appeared to be a big landing strip.

Dax slowed the bike down as they turned into the private airport. He pulled up to the hangar and cut the engine. Emerson loosened her grip slightly, but Dax’s hand came to cover her linked fingers. He didn’t say anything, just held her there. Fine with her since she was pretty sure her legs would buckle the second she tried to stand.

She felt him take a deep, meaningful breath and release it. He released her hand too, and she guessed that was her cue to slide off the bike. Which she did with minimal issues.

Although when Dax slid off the bike he looked as though he were a Scottish warrior dismounting his horse after a month-long battle. Smooth moves, rippling muscles, and dangerous swagger.

He pulled off her helmet, then his, and she could see that he was a few days behind on shaving, leaving a sexy shadow of stubble. But it was the shadow of exhaustion lining his face that had her taking his hand in hers.

“Want to tell me about yesterday?” she asked.

It was obvious something was bothering him. He seemed more relaxed than he had earlier, but there were more questions than answers in his eyes. And the only thing that came to mind was the training.

He set his helmet next to hers on the seat, freeing up those manly hands of his, which he wrapped around her. “I’d rather do this.”

The heat of his lips covering hers carried enough torque to rev her engines past the point of a throaty purr. The man kissed like he rode, hard and wild, and took her to the edge in no time flat. Or maybe it was that an hour of having that much horsepower and testosterone-laced man between her legs was like an afternoon of serious foreplay.

One kiss and Emerson’s body went haywire.

She wrapped her arms around him, finding the perfect place so quickly it was scary, then pressed herself up against him like they were still on the bike. A low, husky groan that was all lust and male appreciation sounded, right before he deepened the kiss.

“God, you taste good.” He nipped her lower lip, his hands sliding up and down her spine as though he liked the feel of her under his palms. Then they slid into her back pockets, cupping her butt through the denim. “You feel even better.”

Emerson wanted to say she could make him feel better, but with one last kiss he pulled back, slowly releasing her lower lip. His eyes were heavy lidded and his body hard and ready against her stomach. And his bike? It was just a few steps away.

Dax pressed his forehead to hers and released several rough breaths. “I want nothing more than to finish this right now. But we have an appointment.”

The sexual haze faded. “Appointment?” That made today sound like more of a planned outing than the spontaneous let’s see where this road takes us ride she’d signed on for. “What would you have done if I hadn’t come with you?”

“I have a bag of bread pudding in the leather saddlebag just in case I needed to play hardball.” He took her hand. “Ready?”

She kept pace with him as he led her toward the massive metal hangar doors. She noticed that their hands were swinging. She’d never taken Dax for a hand-holding kind of guy, and she sure as hell wasn’t a hands-swinging kind of girl, but after that ride it felt natural.

Sweet.

Emerson rolled her eyes, because there went the flutters.

“You going to tell me about yesterday?” she asked.

He slid her a sidelong look and shook his head, but when he spoke his voice was surprisingly gentle. “Later. Today’s about you.”

The concept was so foreign, Emerson stumbled. It was as though her body were rejecting the word because nothing has been about her in years. And she’d agreed to come because she thought he needed her, she’d seen it in his eyes, but suddenly he was turning the tables and it made her uneasy.