And there was nothing like a warm female body pressing against his back, hugging his waist, to remind him that not
'You okay back there?' he shouted.
He felt her helmet un-jam itself from between his shoulder blades and knew she'd lifted her head at last.
'Prop your chin on my shoulder,' he urged loudly. 'I promise you'll love it.'
It took her a minute, but she finally settled her chin on his shoulder.
'I don't have to open my eyes, do I?' she yelled.
'If you don't, you'll miss the most beautiful sunset you've ever seen,' he yelled back.
They drove on in silence, along a tree-lined, winding road that ran parallel to the Chattahoochee River. Chris smiled when he felt her rigid body slowly relax. By the time he parked in front of his condo, he suspected she'd changed her mind about motorcycles.
He turned off the ignition and looked behind him. 'Well?'
She pulled off her helmet and shook her head, spreading a flurry of curls that settled like a halo around her face. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed pink.
'That was awesome,' she said, laughing. 'Incredible.'
He grinned. 'I hate to say I told you so…'
'Oh, go ahead and say it. You were right, I was wrong. You're a big macho motorcycle hunk and I was a wuss.' She swung her leg around and slid off, then practically danced around the bike in her excitement. 'What a feeling. Like flying. Like nothing I've ever done before.'
'Glad you liked it.'
'Yes, sir,' she enthused, patting the Harley, 'I've gotta get me one of these babies.' She looked at him and asked in a dead-serious tone, 'How do you think I'd look in one of those black leather biker-chick outfits?'
The thought of her dressed in black leather gave him palpitations and made his knees sweat. He removed his helmet and hung it by its strap on the handlebars. 'Come here.'
Her eyes narrowed and a knowing, provocative, totally sexy smile curved her lips. She sauntered over to him, hips swaying. It was all he could do to remember to breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
She stopped when she stood directly in front of him. Reaching out, she walked her fingers up the front of his shirt.
'You'd better not be thinking about trying anything funny, big boy,' she whispered in a husky drawl that tightened his groin and raised his temperature ten degrees. 'I'm a real badass, bitchin', Harley babe now.'
'Oh, yeah?' he challenged. 'Prove it.'
'All right.' She gracefully swung her leg over and straddled the leather seat, facing him. Then she looped her arms around his neck and wrapped her long legs around his waist. 'How's this?'
Chris hoped his tongue wasn't hanging out. It took every ounce of his rapidly deteriorating concentration to keep his feet planted on the ground so the Harley didn't keel over.
She leaned forward and gently nipped the side of his neck with her teeth. 'Am I doing okay?'
A shaky laugh escaped him. 'Yeah. You're a real badass.' His skin suddenly felt too tight, like it had shrunk a couple of sizes in the last two minutes. But there was no way he was going to bypass this opportunity.
Hauling her up even tighter against him, he said, 'I hope you know CPR.'
Her tongue flicked out and brushed his earlobe. His eyes glazed over.
'CPR?' she whispered. 'Why's that?'
'Because I'm about to have a heart attack,' he said, his voice a low growl. Fisting his hand in her hair, he dragged her mouth to meet his in a kiss that left him shaking.
He didn't know why this woman affected him the way she did, but he was apparently helpless to stop it. He hadn't wanted this, but this was the hand he'd been dealt, and by God he was going to play it.
No longer gentle, his tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, plundering the silky interior, claiming it as his own. She tasted like sugar and cinnamon and she smelled like flowers. His hands caressed her impatiently, kneading her back, then coming forward to cup the soft fullness of her breasts. He stroked his thumbs over her nipples and groaned when they peaked into hardened points.
God, he wanted her. So badly he couldn't think straight. So much he'd forgotten they were in the parking lot. Good thing it was nearly dark and no one was around. He was in no condition to make apologies to his neighbors or give explanations to an arresting officer. He had to get off this bike, out of this parking lot, and into the privacy of his condo before he exploded. He was so hard he didn't know if he'd ever be able to walk again.
'Chris,' she murmured against his neck. 'Chris, we have to stop… while we still can. Please. This isn't the time… or the place.'
He heard her words through a steamy haze of passion. He lifted his head, breathing hard. Sweat dripped down his spine and his heart pounded so hard he wondered if he really was having a heart attack.
She stared at him, her brown eyes huge and dazed. Her hair was a mess thanks to a combination of the helmet and his plundering hands. Her lips were moist and swollen from his kisses. Reddish abrasions marked her cheeks and neck where his five o'clock stubble had rubbed her. The tip of her tongue peeked out as she wet her lips.
'My God,' she whispered in a breathless tone. She eased herself away from him and slid off the bike on legs that were clearly unsteady. Chris made no move to stop her. Indeed, he decided it was best that she move away from him before he simply let nature take its course.
Drawing a deep breath, he gripped the handlebars and forced himself to calm down. Whatever had just possessed him, he was pleading temporary insanity. At the moment he wasn't sure if he wanted to drag her off and make love to her until they both passed out, or run away from her and whatever potent spell she'd cast on him as fast as his shaky legs could carry him.
Havoc. That's what this woman wreaked. Havoc. With his senses, his mind, his body. He'd only met her a week ago, and his life was turned upside down. A week ago he'd wanted nothing more than his bachelor freedom. Now he wanted Melanie. And nothing else.
She touched his arm. 'You okay?' she asked in a small voice. 'You're a million miles away.'
He tried to smile and failed. He wanted to say he was fine, but that would have been an outright lie.
'To be perfectly honest,' he said, plunging unsteady fingers through his hair, 'I'm a bit shaken.'
'I know what you mean.' She wrapped her arms around herself. He knew she couldn't be cold. It had to be two hundred degrees outside. 'I'm sorry about that, Chris. I guess I just got caught up in the moment.' She raised questioning eyes to his. 'How about you?'
'Caught up, yes. Sorry, no.'
'I think it might be best if…' Her words trailed off and a frown formed between her brows. 'Where are we?'
'My place.' Forcing a calmness he was far from feeling, he locked the bike, set the kickstand, then swung his leg over the leather seat. 'I hope you're hungry.' At her blank stare he added, 'I'm making dinner.'
'You're cooking me dinner?'
He took her hand and pulled her toward his front door. 'That a problem?'
He actually heard her gulp. He smiled, glad she wasn't calm while he was like Elvis-all shook up.
'No problem,' she said. 'I'm just surprised. What's on the menu?'
'Steak, potatoes, salad. And my famous martinis. Real bachelor-guy stuff.'
'I thought bachelor-guy stuff was moldy bologna, stale potato chips, and beer.'
'That was last night. Tonight, we feast.' He unlocked his door and pushed it open with a flourish. 'Welcome to my humble abode. I haven't had much time or inclination to decorate, but all the essentials are covered.'
'Essentials?' she asked, craning her neck.
'Beer in the fridge; towels in the bathroom; gym equipment in the dining room; stereo, TV, VCR, recliner in the den.' He led her into the den and indicated a tan leather sectional. 'Make yourself at home. That's the most comfortable sofa on earth. I'm just going to get the steaks going. I'll be right back.' Before heading into the kitchen, he flicked on the stereo. The smooth sounds of Eric Clapton played softly through the speakers.
Melanie took advantage of his absence to look around. The den was spacious, with one wall a series of sliding doors that led onto a roomy deck. Soft track lighting highlighted the gleaming hardwood floors, and a plush sea- foam green and cream Oriental rug lay in front of the marble fireplace.
She wandered past a huge whitewashed oak entertainment center chock full of complicated-looking stereo
