Guilty Cravings (The Steamy South 1) (5 page)

Chapter
Four

Oh yes!

As Emily sank against
Nick’s hard body on the dance floor, his firm, sensual lips captured hers. His
kiss was a hot, drugging caress, like drowning in a pool of rich, melting
chocolate. Ambrosia to her starved senses. Emily wanted to sink down into his
seduction until she was sated.

She held him tighter,
digging her nails into his leather vest, pressing her pebbled nipples against
his muscled chest. His hard cock ground against her lower belly where she ached
for him deep inside. Her pussy clenched and moisture drenched her panties.

Threading his fingers
underneath her hair to cradle her head, he gave lingering kisses to the corners
of her mouth. Burning desire flashed through her. Oh how she wanted to devour
every inch of him.

Her knees trembled
and she reached up for more kisses. When he flicked the tip of his tongue
against the center of her lips, her breath stopped and she opened her mouth.

Nick inhaled sharply
and squeezed her ass, pulling her tighter against his erection. She couldn’t
even protest the way he was touching her because she craved more.

His tongue swept
against hers. The masculine taste and texture of him assailed her senses.
Delicious and intimate. His clean musky scent was new and unfamiliar. Sexy. A
silken thread of sensuality wrapped around her heart and for a moment wouldn’t
let it beat.

She moaned, but the
loud music muffled it. She hoped. But what if he’d heard it? The sheer force of
her unbridled need stunned her, frightened her. She was tempted to climb his
lean, muscular frame right here on the dance floor.

Shocked at herself,
she broke the kiss and turned aside.

He pressed his face
into her hair. “Good god, Emily,” he growled.

Nick was ready to
throw Emily over his shoulder and make for the nearest dark corner for a quick
fuck. He hadn’t had such a rampant hard-on in eons. That moan she’d let loose
told him she was just as horny. Stroking the soft skin of her bare thigh, he
ached to slide his hand up underneath that short skirt and find out how wet she
was, then yank her panties aside and guide his cock into her. She would feel
sublime—hot, tight, drenched.

"Fuck," he
muttered, precum trickling from the tip of his cock. How was he supposed to get
himself under control?

Her hands trembled as
she clutched at his vest. Even her legs felt unsteady to him. Nudging her chin
up, he couldn’t believe how aroused she appeared, her eyes midnight blue, her
lips swollen and parted, waiting for him to kiss her again. He wanted nothing
more than to do exactly that, flicking his tongue into her mouth, and then lift
her into his arms and wrap her legs around his waist.

But he couldn’t.
Still holding her in place, he closed his eyes and turned his face away. Inhaling
deeply, he tried to get his libido under control. Damn. When had he ever wanted
a woman this badly?

Her sweet taste
lingered in his mouth. Her perfume and her own unique scent teased his senses.
And he’d swear he even smelled her arousal. He wanted to drop to his knees and
bury his tongue in her pussy. His cock jumped and his balls ached.

A second later, his
phone vibrated in his pocket, startling him. A text message. No one sent him
texts except his partner. Taking out his phone, he quickly read the message
from Pierce—
Get her out of there!

What the fuck? Trying
to maintain his calm façade, he scanned the surroundings, arousal draining from
his body, leaving him cold. Apparently he had a ghost tonight—another police
officer posing as a regular customer and backing him up. And clearly he knew
something Nick didn’t.

“Dammit,” he muttered
under his breath.

“What is it?” Emily
asked.

“What do you say we
get out of here and have some fun?” He hoped the line, if anyone heard it, was
enough to cover his tracks. Suspicious behavior or not, they had to leave
now
.

Taking her hand, Nick
calmly moved past the huge bouncer at the door. Kurt called out something
behind them, but Nick didn’t have time to make up an excuse for leaving the
band in the lurch. With Emily, he strode out into the humid heat of the Atlanta
night.

“Whew. I’m glad to be
out of there,” she said.

The quietness of the
dim street hurt his ears in the absence of the loud music. He scanned the area
for danger. “Did you bring your car here?” he asked low, not seeing her white
luxury sedan nearby.

“No, I left it at the
hotel and came to the bar in a taxi.”

He slid his arm
around her shoulder and pulled her close to whisper in her ear. “Which hotel?”

She told him the name
and the street. “What’s going on? You glanced at your phone.”

Although he didn’t
notice anything out of the ordinary, he kept his voice low. “I’ll tell you
about it later.” He guided Emily toward his motorcycle in the parking area and
removed the helmets he’d locked in place earlier. “Know how to put this on?” he
asked, handing her one.

“Um.” Frowning, she
eyed the helmet as if it were a puzzle to be worked out. “Can’t we call a
taxi?”

“We have great
transportation right here. And, no, we don’t have time to wait for a taxi.” He
tugged the helmet over her head and secured the chin strap, then put on his.
“Throw your leg across. We have to hurry.” He held the bike steady.

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you
later.”

She did as he said,
looking hot straddling his motorcycle seat. But he had more important things to
focus on now than how damned sexy she was and how he wanted to be the thing she
was straddling. Hell, her crotch was now almost exposed. She tried to yank her
short dress down, but that would do no good. Trying to ignore her lusciousness,
he got on in front of her.

She didn’t have to
tell him she’d never ridden a motorcycle before. It was obvious.

Jumping up, Nick
cranked the bike with the kick starter, causing it to rumble and vibrate. Exhaust
fumes wafted up Emily’s nose and into her lungs. She lapsed into a coughing,
gasping fit.

Oh god, what had she
gotten herself into?

He dropped onto the
seat between her knees, reached back for her hands and drew them around his
waist. “You okay?” he asked over the roar of the engine.

No, I’m not okay
, she wanted to yell, but nodded
and gulped fresh air, finally recovering.

Why had he left the
bar so abruptly? No matter the reason, she wasn’t arguing. She wanted out of
there. But now, to have to ride a motorcycle in a short dress?
Ugh.

This position
shouldn’t be sexual, but it was. He sat between her spread legs, her knees
framing his narrow hips and her fingers brushing his bare, washboard stomach
through the open front of his leather vest. Her heart rate spiked. So that’s
what ripped abs felt like.
Hard.
She almost sighed.

The rebellious part
of her wanted to stroke her fingers up and down and explore, maybe even slide
them lower and rub his cock, which she knew had been erect and bone-hard
moments ago, during their kiss. The knowledge that she’d turned him on made her
head spin with giddy excitement. Instead of stroking him, she closed her empty
hand, digging her nails into her palm.

She’d never imagined
a motorcycle ride could be so sensual. But of course, she’d been horny for the
past ten minutes.

Remaining still, he
gunned the engine, then turned his head toward her. “Hold on tight.”

She nodded and
released her breath, trying to get her arousal under control.

As they pealed out of
the parking space, Emily’s heart vaulted into her throat. Thinking she would be
flung to the pavement, she tightened both arms around his waist, hugging him.

“Are you insane? Slow
down!” she yelled, but knew he couldn’t hear her over the growling engine. She
scrunched behind him, her head pressed against his back.

Adrenaline rushed
through her veins, heightening her awareness of the warm, strong man she was
wrapped around. His muscles flexed and relaxed depending on what the course
demanded. Okay, they weren’t crashing so maybe she could relax. Nick rode all
the time. He knew what he was doing, she hoped.

He maneuvered the
bike smoothly around and between cars. When they made a sharp turn, he leaned
into the curve with the bike. Emily had no choice but to do the same, closing
her eyes and hoping that her knees wouldn’t scrape the pavement. The wind blew
her dress up, practically baring her ass, but she could do nothing about it if
she wanted to hold on.

They rode onto the
expressway and he accelerated. The vibrations grew more intense, numbing her
butt and her feet.

After a few moments,
she relaxed enough to glance around. The combination of a rapidly passing view
of the city lights and the warm summer wind rushing over her bare arms and legs
spread exhilarating chills through her. Who would’ve guessed she’d be riding a
motorcycle tonight and actually enjoying it? Holding onto Nick made it even
more exciting.

They took an exit
ramp and pulled down to a stop light. He wrapped a bare muscular arm around her
leg and tugged her closer to him, his fingers stroking her calf. Whew, he made
her want to grind herself against him!

Taking off with the
green light, he replaced his hand on the grip. She released a sigh, missing his
possessive hold. But now her crotch, covered in only thin black silk panties,
was pressed tightly against his firm ass. Sexual awareness simmered inside her.
She’d be lucky if she didn’t leave a wet mark on his jeans.

* * * *

Nick silently cursed
for the fiftieth time in ten minutes. Emily felt damn good wrapped around him.
Her arms held him tight, stronger than he would’ve imagined. Her beautiful
thighs pressed in against his hips. He stroked a hand along one of her smooth
calves, wishing they were encircling his waist.

The memory of her
standing naked in her bedroom a week ago sent need churning through him. Her
body was perfection—her perky breasts just the right natural fullness. Her
nipples were dark rosy pink—and hard when he’d seen them. Her hips were flared
and very feminine, and her waist sleek.

He wanted to tongue
her belly button, then move lower into those neatly trimmed curls surrounding
her sex. He’d part her lips and bury his tongue in her slit. Her pussy juices
would taste sweet and tangy. He’d relish devouring her.

When he visualized
her pussy pressed against his ass right now, he couldn’t help wondering if it
was still wet from their kiss. Had to be. He’d bet his badge she was drenched,
the lips of her cunt parted and swollen, aching for him to slide his cock deep
inside. He wanted nothing more than to do just that.

But he couldn’t. She
would never be his, dammit, so he should spare himself the torture and stop
fantasizing.

A few minutes later,
he parked at her hotel and cut the engine. Taking off his helmet, he surveyed
their surroundings. It didn’t appear anyone had followed them. He had to call
his partner ASAP, and he hoped like hell his cover wasn’t blown.

“Did something happen
back there?” she asked, getting off the bike and removing her helmet. “I
thought the band was going to play.”

“Yeah, something
happened all right. Come on.” Enclosing her small cold hand within his own, he
rushed her into the hotel. They took the elevator to the fifth floor.

Once in her posh
room, he made her stand by the door while he searched the closet, under the
bed, the bathroom and behind the draperies. Certain they were alone, he dialed Pierce
and told him their location. His partner was only about five minutes away.

Nick clicked the
phone off and eyed Emily, amazed at how gorgeous and unruffled she looked even
with the shit that was going on.

“Did you notice
anyone following you here from Savannah?” he asked.

Her eyes widened.
“No. Why? Do you think someone did?”

“I don’t know.
Something’s up. In the bar, I got a message from my partner saying ‘get her out
of there.’”

“Oh my god, why?
Where was he?”

“Not in the bar.
Another cop was probably watching my back, pretending to be a customer. He’s
the one who saw you. I don’t know what’s going down.”

“That doesn’t mean
your cover’s blown, does it?”

“I don’t know.” If it
did, it probably had something to do with her showing up, but he had no proof
of that yet. “Mainly, I have to keep you safe. Tell me more about the bastard
who called you. What did he say again?”

She repeated what
she’d told him in the bar.

“Sonofabitch,” Nick
muttered. The killer might have followed her here, hoping to get his hands on
whatever it was he wanted, and then alerted someone in Rebel’s that he was a
cop. If the bastard was someone from Savannah who knew Jared well, then Jared
might have told him Nick was a police officer in Atlanta.