Rush Into You (11 page)

“Looks as if everyone else does. Must mean you’re pretty good then.”

“I’m all right.” He grinned, looking up at me.

“All right enough for me to bet on you?” I teased.

Again with that smile, more confident now. He made me want to rip my panties off and let him take me right here. “You don’t need to blow your money with these guys.” He waved his hand dismissively at the crowd. “We can make our own bet, though.”

“Oh, yeah? What kind of bet?”

He pulled a red and white pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, and extracted one from the bunch. Putting it to his full lips, I watched as the flame from his lighter jumped up and licked the tip. He exhaled away from me, then puffed a long drag from his cigarette, eyeing me intently.

“Okay, if I win you’re leaving here with me on the back of my bike. And I want your lips on mine tonight.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, tingles spreading throughout my lower body, warming me. “And if you lose?” I whispered.

“I don’t lose.” He shook his head, his smoldering blue eyes piercing into mine. “Those lips are still mine, and you’re still on my bike.”

I could barely breathe. This man hadn't even touched me and my sex was clenching from his words alone. “That’s hardly a bet. Doesn’t seem to benefit me at all,” I lied.

“Doesn’t it, though?”

Just then the announcer, who I now knew as Hendrix, called Ryker and Keith up to the starting line to prepare for the final race. Ryker closed the small gap separating us and leaned down so that his lips were touching my ear. His breath tickled the sensitive area, effectively breaking my skin out in goosebumps as I shivered with desire.

“Wish me luck then?”

I gulped,
surely loud enough for him to hear
, and slowly nodded.

“Yeah, um, sure,” I squeaked, then cleared my voice. “Good luck, Ryker.”

He flashed me that panty dropping smile again, winked, then stalked his way through the crowd toward his bike. I watched him effortlessly mount it, only the tips of his toes touching the street as he rolled the huge bike over to his position on the makeshift starting line.

OVER A YEAR ago I’d had a taste of Ryker’s mouth and I’d craved more ever since. I dreamed of what it would feel like to have him invade my mouth, tangling his tongue with mine with slow, passionate strokes. Even when I was at the point of not knowing whether Ryker was real, unsure if I’d made the entire night up…I’d fantasized about him in detail. I’d felt as if I’d lost him, like I missed something without him around. But how could you miss someone you didn't know? How could you lose something you never had?

Sometimes the memory of those blue and gold eyes were the only thing that got me through each day and night. Once I was better—though never cured—I’d held onto the hope that Ryker Rosse was indeed real, and not some fictional memory brought on by the stress and damage of my heroin overdose. I’d daydream about the day that I would see him again, but I’d never thought it would happen.

Last night when he’d said my name, it was magical; a reassurance that he was real and I wasn’t completely crazy. There were moments when we could have kissed—
or more
, but I was glad I’d held off. It made the prospect of tonight’s promised kiss more exciting.

The powerful roar of engines shook me from my thoughts. I knew Ryker would win. The only person not chanting his name and fawning over him was the man on the bike beside him—Keith. Although I couldn’t see his face through his full helmet, I knew he was glaring. That man sure knew how to hold a grudge. I’d have to ask Ryker if there was more to the story. I found it hard to believe someone could have such hard feelings from simply losing a race. Then again, maybe that was just the kind of person Keith was—hateful.

I spotted Jay standing a couple yards away by herself and called her over.

“Looks like he doesn’t mind that you’re here.” Jay’s toothy grin almost reached her ears it was so big. Her romantic heart must be doing cartwheels right now.

My cheeks warmed, no doubt turning red. “I guess not.”

“Yes, people! You already know what time it is, don’t you? This next race is no doubt the reason all of you are here!” On cue, the crowd erupted into louder cheers and catcalls as they chanted Ryker’s name. “Shit, it’s sure as hell what I want to see!”

For an illegal race, there was one hell of a turn out, and no pattern to the people who mingled—girls, guys, tall, short, fat, skinny, white, black and every color in between.

Something in the crowd caught my eye and I pointed over Jay’s shoulder.”No lie, is that a freaking sign for Ryker?”

Jay glanced behind her and burst out laughing. “Ryker, be my biker! Let me ride you!”

We looked at each other and erupted into a fit of giggles. Trying to catch my breath, I managed to squeak out, “Is that girl serious? We’re not at a boy band concert. What was she thinking when she made that?”

“That might be a bit too R-rated for a boy band concert,” Jay observed jokingly. “And the sign speaks for itself. Sounds like she wants to ride your man!”

“Aaaand, they’re off!”

The squeal of tires suddenly transported me back in time. My vision blurred around the edges until all I saw was the terrible night from years ago that still haunted me.

My breathing was shallow as I swayed on my feet, so I hunched over, my hands holding my stomach. A warm hand on my back rubbed small, soothing circles. Jay's gentle voice slowly pulled me from my past and back to my present.

“Gabby? Honey, are you okay? What's wrong?”

I straightened shakily, still feeling dizzy. The spots dancing in my vision faded, bringing the race back into focus, and I blew out a breath, trying to push down the still rising nausea.

“Gabby? You're scaring me.” Her brown eyes were round and wide, her eyebrows raised into her hairline.

I couldn't hear the screaming tires anymore, just the thundering engines of the racing bikes. “I'm sorry. I'm okay now.”

“What happened?” she asked cautiously.

I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about it. I wanted to watch Ryker's race, so I stood on my tiptoes to try and see better, my back rigid with fear. Jay continued to watch me anxiously, but I ignored her as I clasped my hands in front of me and pulled them into my chest, praying that Ryker would be safe.

I kept my eyes on Ryker’s bright red bike until I could no longer see it, and I knew my body would remain tense until he crossed that final mark. I wasn’t worried about him winning; I knew without a doubt that he would. I didn't know where the confidence had come from, but Ryker didn't seem like a man who lost—
ever.

Through the anxiety, my adrenaline was pumping with excitement. Surprisingly, behind my fear I had to admit this was fun. Regardless of my worries, the atmosphere was enticing. The crowd’s energy was contagious, and before I could second guess myself, my hands were cupping my mouth to make my cheers louder. “C’mon, Ryker! You got this!”

The sounds of the motorcycles were getting louder, hinting at their return. “Where does the race end?” I yelled to Jay, keeping my eyes trained on the last spot I saw the bikes. I heard Jay ask the same question to someone beside her, before pointing off to the right and shouting, “Over there!”

We linked arms and hurried off in the direction Jay pointed to on the other side of the dark street. A large crowd was gathered, waiting for the bikes to cross that line and collect their winnings for their bets. I walked right up to them and squeezed my way through the bystanders. I wanted to be as close to the finish line as possible, so I’d be the first thing he saw when he claimed his victory.

The unmistakable sound of motorcycle engines filled the air, and Ryker’s red Ducati smoothly appeared at the top of the hill. An uninhibited thrill coursed through my system, and I jumped up and down, clapping, and screaming Ryker’s name. It reminded me of when I was a sophomore in high school, cheerleading for the varsity football team, except now I was twenty-four and at an underground drag race for motorcycles, cheering for a man who I liked but barely knew.

Keith was right on Ryker’s ass, trying his hardest to push past him, but Ryker wasn’t going to let that happen, and somehow sped off even faster, keeping himself ahead. The crowd was going wild knowing the race was going to end in a second, and the infamous Ryker would win.

The sound of Hendrix’s blow horn could barely be heard over the thundering of bikes and applause as Ryker crossed the line first by half a bike length. My hair whipped back from my face from the speed of Ryker and Keith zooming by me, and my belly had butterflies as I remembered the bet we’d made earlier. I’d be riding out of here on his bike, and everyone would see us. That made me feel good—special.

Several moments later, a casual roar of motorcycle engines approached, and Ryker was back.
Holy shit.
He’d hinted at what would happen tonight, but other than that promised kiss, I had no idea what to expect. Ryker’s bright red Ducati stopped right beside Jay and me.

“Holy shit, girl,” Jay whispered, shock lacing her voice.

Tell me about it. I didn’t think he’d make such a public display of leaving here with me, though I wasn't complaining. Every eye in the crowd was glued on us as Ryker lifted the visor from his helmet and looked at me with those gorgeous eyes.

“Still leaving on the back of my bike?” His voice was husky, daring me to back down from our untraditional bet.

I sauntered towards him, aware of every eye trained on me. “Only if your lips are still planning on being on mine.”

His breath hitched, audible even over the roar of his bike. His gaze burned, bright blue like they had been at the cliffs, and his teeth clenched. “Get on Gabby.”

I climbed on the back of the bike and put the helmet on that Ryker offered me. I stole a glance at Jay before we sped off, and laughed at the look of surprise etched on her face. I wiggled my fingers at her and smiled, saying goodbye.

My arms wrapped tightly around Ryker’s middle a moment before he accelerated away from his fans.

BEING ON THE back of the Ducati was a lot different than riding the Harley. On the Harley, I just sat up like I would in a chair, but on the Ducati, I had to lean over to match Ryker’s position with my arms wrapped tightly around his hard abs. My eyes were closed, and my face was pressed into the space between his shoulder blades. I inhaled, drawing in the scent of leather that I’d come to associate with Ryker.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the promised kiss that was supposed to happen tonight. Never in my life has a kiss been planned. Not that this one was exactly planned in detail, but our bet indicated that our lips would connect at some point tonight. Shivers consumed me, and it had nothing to do with the crisp wind blowing around us. With desire already rushing through my veins, I couldn’t wait for us to arrive at our destination. I wanted his hands on me, and I wanted mine on him.

Since I was wearing a basic motorcycle helmet, and not one with the full front visor like Ryker, my face was exposed. I moved my head up and back down slowly, letting the soft leather of his jacket caress my cheek. Deciding to be a bit daring, I let my cold hands slip inside of his jacket for warmth. Inch by inch, my fingertips crawled under Ryker’s grey cotton t-shirt, exploring his rock solid muscles. I traced the hard ridges and lines of his abdomen before traveling to the thin trail of curly hair beneath his navel. I teasingly pulled the coarse hair before smoothing my thumb over it, easing the sting. As if by their own will, my thumbs reached into his jeans and disappeared into the elastic waist of his boxers. I ran them along the edge of the fabric with feather-light brushes against his taut skin.

I bit my lip hard, overwhelmed with my attraction to him, fighting against my desire to move my hands lower and explore. But unless I wanted to risk turning this bike and us into a burning pile of metal and flesh, I needed to control myself. I kept my thumbs hooked into his boxers for the remainder of the ride. When we finally stopped, I didn’t want to lift my head. I wanted to keep my hands on him, my body pressed against his. Cracking my left eye open, I was taken aback.

Ryker toed the kickstand down, and our bodies shifted left with the weight of the bike. He helped me down after him, his hands wrapped around my hips for a few extra heartbeats. I didn’t protest, but relaxed in his grip, not wanting him to let go. His strong hands moved to either side of my neck, just below my jaw, and splayed his fingers wide.