Down to You (The Bad Boys #1)(28)
Author: M. Leighton

“My questionable upbringing and suspicious connections might make you shake in your boots,” he jokes with a not-quite-half smile.

I turn on my stool and look down at my feet. “I’m not wearing boots.”

“I can see that,” Cash says, reaching down to brush his palm up my calf. “No panty hose either.”

A bubble of air is trapped in my throat, making it impossible for me to breathe. Chills break out and shoot up my leg, straight into my panties.

He looks up at me, his eyes flashing. I know what he wants. And I know he knows I want it, too. It’s there in his eyes. There’s no reason for me to even try to deny it. But what to do about it?

In my indecision, I turn my legs back toward the bar, away from his hand. He smiles. Knowingly. But he goes along.

For now.

He finishes his drink in one long pull then turns to me. I push my beer away.

“You ready?”

Talk about your loaded question!

I nod. I’m not sure what all I just agreed to, but every nerve in my body is alive with anticipation.

“Come on,” he says with a tip of his head and a wicked grin. “Let’s go get you off.”

I can’t help but smile.

CHAPTER TWENTY – Cash

I can’t keep my hands off Olivia as we leave the bar. Not completely anyway. As she steps out in front of me, I put my hand at the base of her spine. I feel her twitch at the contact. It’s not a flinch, but an actual twitch. Like I shocked her with a small electrical current. Like she’s feeling everything I’m feeling. And I’d bet any amount of money she is.

It’s sexual awareness. It’s attraction. It’s anticipation. She’s made her choice. She doesn’t have to tell me, or even admit it to herself, but she’s made it nonetheless. I can feel it.

I walk her out to her car. My bike is parked sideways in front of it. She stops when we get close to it.

“Is this what you drive?” she asks, turning those wide eyes up to me.

“Yes,” I say, but then I add with a smirk, “but you’re not surprised, are you? Isn’t this what bad-boys do? Ride motorcycles and break hearts?”

Her smile is weak. “I suppose so.”

She turns away and moves around to unlock the car door and pop the hood.

I shouldn’t have said that.

I unstrap the jumper cables I brought from behind the seat and hook them from my battery to hers.

“Will that be enough to jump start my car?”

“Should be. Go give it a try.”

I watch Olivia as she slides in behind the wheel to give it a crank. The engine doesn’t turn over; it just makes a clicking sound.

She shakes her head and gets back out. “It’s not working.”

“You think?” I tease.

She tilts her head to the side and gives me a dirty look.

Damn, she’s adorable.

“The reason for that is that it sounds like the alternator, not the battery.”

She slumps over the car door. “Ohmigod! That’s expensive, isn’t it?” she mumbles.

“It’s not cheap. But I know a guy.” I say it in my best mobster voice.

She looks up and grins. “Those suspicious connections, huh? Can you get me some concrete boots while you’re at it?”

“Probably,” I say, deadpan.

I see a frown flicker across her forehead. She doesn’t know whether I’m joking or not.

“Get your stuff. I’ll take you home. I’ll have my buddy come get your car and we’ll figure something out tomorrow.” She looks undecided, tapping her fingers along the door frame. “It’ll be fine here for a little while. I don’t think anybody will mess with it.”

She snorts. And then looks embarrassed that she did. “In a way, I’d almost be relieved.”

“Hey, I know a guy…” I say.

She laughs outright. And I love the sound. Makes me think of tickling her. In bed. While she’s naked. Lying on top of me.

Without further argument, she locks up the car and comes to stand beside my bike. She shrugs her shoulders. “What now?”

“You’ve never ridden a motorcycle before?”

“Nope.”

“What kind of bad-boy girlfriend are you?” I ask in mock dismay.

“Evidently a terrible one.”

I swing onto the bike and grab my only helmet. “Nah, you just haven’t met the right bad-boy.”

Her cheeks flush a little. I want to kiss her. Again. And I will. Just not right now.

“Put this on and then get on behind me,” I say, handing her the helmet. Obediently, she slips it over her head and then throws one leg over the bike and scoots onto the seat. I see her long, bare legs clamp around my hips and I look back at her. Her eyes are shining behind the raised shield of the helmet as she situates against me. “Put your arms around my waist and hold on.”

Her eyes never leaving mine, she leans in close and slides her hands around to my stomach. I can feel that plump chest of hers against my back and I jerk inside my jeans.

I turn around and start the engine. I let it idle for a few seconds while I regain my composure. It’s hard to rid my mind of the image of her sitting in front of me, minus those shorts, with her legs wrapped around me. I’d give her the best ride home she’s ever had.

With a growl, I rev the engine and ease us upright and off the kickstand. Shifting quickly into gear, we take off like a shot down the street.

I love the adrenaline of my bike. I always have. I try my best to let it chase away the feel of Olivia at my back, but I think nothing short of a week locked up in a bedroom with her can accomplish that. And oh what a week that would be.

It doesn’t take long to get to her place. It’s kind of a sweet torture. In a way, I wish the ride was longer. But then, in another way, I’m glad it’s not. The longer she’s wrapped around me and pressed up against me, the harder it is to control myself. Especially now that I know she wants me.

And she’s so close to giving in.

When I stop along the curb, she hesitates for a second before she gets off. She comes to stand beside me, handing me the helmet she’s already removed. I hold it under my arm, against my leg and wait for her to speak. She looks like she has something to say.

“How did you know where I live?”

She doesn’t sound concerned. Just curious.

“Employee forms. Remember?”

“Ahh,” she murmurs with a nod. She’s waiting. And I think I know for what. “So, do you want to come in?”