The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3)(17)

Morgan crossed her arms over her chest and glanced at the black sports bike parked next to her car. It looked fast. Too fast. And dangerous. In many ways it was the perfect vehicle for Ty.

“I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”

“That’s why I’m not letting you drive.” He tossed his helmet toward her. Morgan scrambled to uncross her arms in time to catch it. “All you have to do is climb up and hold on.”

She shot him a glare. “Oh, really? Is that all? Is that what you tell all the ladies?”

“Just you.” He looked serious. Somehow that only upped the sizzle factor. “Or…you could call a taxi and we can wait around for it to show up. Who knows, maybe the guys who left you the present in your back tire will show up before the cab.”

“Okay,” Morgan said with a quick nod. “I’ll get on the damn thing.”

“Good choice.”

Morgan fumbled with the helmet as Ty started up the bike. Once she had it snug over her head, she kicked her leg over the seat. She struggled to keep her back straight as she settled on the bike.

“You’re not going to be able to ride like that,” Ty said, his voice tinged with laughter. “Put your arms around me.”

Morgan placed her hands lightly on his sides.

Ty let out a deep sigh. He grabbed her hands and pulled her arms around him until they overlapped on the flat plane of his stomach. Sudden awareness flowed through her as her legs molded against his. Her cheeks burned with heat as her breasts pressed flush against his hard back.

At least his lips were on the other side of her this time around.

Ty walked the bike back a few paces before putting her into gear and turning the tight corner in the alley.

“Don’t go too fast,” Morgan said as he neared the city street.

“Sweetheart, this is a Ducati. It doesn’t go slow.”

He turned the throttle. The engine roared to life, vibrating like a monster beneath her. Morgan shrieked and held on in earnest as the bike took off like a bullet. The city zipped by in a blur of lights and fog.

The bike dipped down as Ty took a hard corner, and Morgan’s life flashed before her eyes. She snapped them shut, tightened the grip of her thighs and, for the first time in years, prayed.

Morgan was pretty sure Ty was laughing at her, but there was no way she could hear anything over the thundering motor.

But if he so much as snickered when she got off this thing—if she got off this thing—she would strangle him with her own hands.

When she finally mustered the courage to crack open her eyes again, they were turning on to Dolores Street.

“I’m down on 23rdrd Street,” Morgan yelled. She had no idea if he heard her or not. At this point, she didn’t care where he stopped as long as he did stop.

That wasn’t exactly true. It was obvious that Ty was a good rider. It seemed like he pushed the bike pretty hard, but he hadn’t wrapped them around any telephone poles or taken off one of her legs on the side of a parked car.

If she were honest, she could almost see the allure in riding one of these.

Almost.

The wind whipped past her body. Her heart reacted to the changes in speed, hammering with every burst. She felt connected to the space she was moving through, not removed from it by four walls.

“I’m on the right side, just past the corner,” she said as he eased up on the throttle. He pulled up to the sidewalk just in front of her building. She reluctantly let go of his waist.

Reluctantly? What the hell was that?

Shouldn’t she be falling to her knees and kissing the ground? The strange truth was that she felt something closer to disappointment than relief when she stepped off Ty’s bike.

“Well, you didn’t kill us,” she said and pulled off his helmet. “So I guess I should say thank you.”

He smiled.

Damn.

And here she’d thought that nothing could make her breath hitch the way his Ducati had.

“You liar,” he said. “You liked it. Admit it.”

She laughed. “Yeah. The same way you’re totally into me.”

Ty craned his head and looked at the facade of her building. “Do you want me to walk you up?”

She tried not to read anything into the offer. He was just playing the White Knight again. Right?

“No. I think I’ve got it from here,” she said. She handed him back his helmet. His fingers curled around hers.

“We should go out on a date.”

Morgan blinked. “E-excuse me.”

“We led your brother and his friends to think we’re an item tonight. It would probably be in our best interest to keep them believing that.”

She arched a brow. “Really?”

“Unless you want to answer questions about what we were really doing in front of your brother’s office.”

He made a good point.

“And you think that dinner and a movie would convince them.”

“I don’t think it would hurt. And the club is closed on Monday night, so the timing seems perfect.”

Morgan crossed her arms. “And how do you know I don’t already have a date for tomorrow night?”

“I don’t,” Ty said. His brow arched. “But don’t pretend you’re going to give up another chance to ride on the back of this beauty.” He patted the metal frame between his legs.