Okay, so he wasn't husband material, but the man was most definitely her every fantasy come to life. She'd already given herself permission to enjoy him for the time being, and that was exactly what she intended to do.
'Hi, yourself.' She filed the last of the statements, closed the cabinet, and went back to her desk. 'What are you doing here?'
He pushed off the doorjamb and strolled into the room, filling her sanctuary with his dominating masculine presence. 'I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by.'
'I'm glad you did.' She smiled as she secured a rubber band around the paid bills she needed to mail tomorrow morning. 'Are you here for your caramel frappuccino?'
'No, I'm here for
She shook her head, realizing just how hungry she actually was. 'No. I've been so busy that I haven't even thought about dinner.'
'What are the chances of you getting out of here early and joining me for a bite to eat?' He winked at her.
She shivered at the naughty connotation to his words, no doubt deliberate on his part, judging by the wicked gleam in his eyes. 'I'd say your chances are very good. I just finished up everything I needed to for the day. Let me go over a few things with my night manager; then I'm a free woman and all yours.'
Fifteen minutes later, he was escorting her out the front door of the cafe and to his Harley-Davidson, parked at the curb. She stopped abruptly and glanced up at him. 'Where's your truck?'
'At home.' He unhooked one of the two black helmets from the motorcycle and held it loosely in his hand. 'I thought it might be fun to take you for a ride on my bike. Are you okay with that?'
Surprisingly, she was, and knew it was only because she trusted him so much. He was offering her a bit of frivolous fun after a long day at work, an irresistible adventure that beckoned to her wilder side, along with the chance to indulge that bad girl inside her that only he had the ability to rouse.
She grinned, welcoming the rush of excitement infusing her veins. 'I'm more than okay with that.'
'You're gonna love it,' he promised, and secured the helmet on her head, then held open his leather jacket for her to wear.
She slipped inside the fragrant warmth. He zipped her up and flipped the collar up around her neck, enveloping her in the delicious, heady scent of Steve, worn leather, and pure male heat. The jacket was two sizes too big for her, but it made her feel safe and protected, just as the man himself did.
While he put on his own helmet, her gaze drifted over the beast of a bike she was about to climb up on. The motorcycle was huge, all gleaming black enamel and shiny chrome, except for the words
She dismissed those thoughts as soon as they entered her head, fearing the truth inherent in those words. She inhaled the cool night air, knowing she'd never again be able to hear that song without thinking of Steve and her time with him.
He mounted the bike first, and with his instruction she straddled the leather seat and settled herself behind him, spreading her thighs to encompass the width of his hips. He started the engine, and the whole bike reverberated to life, as did her nerve endings. Her pulse leaped, the vibrations arousing her body and tickling her senses.
'Wrap your arms around my waist,' he said to her over his shoulder.
He didn't have to ask twice. She leaned into the solid, muscular strength of his back, bringing them intimately close and snug, and locked her fingers over his taut abdomen. He revved the high-powered engine once more, and off they went.
He drove along Lake Shore Drive, taking her past North Avenue Beach and Lincoln Park. At night, the sights were incredible, a mesmerizing combination of colored lights and unobstructed views. Sitting on the back of his motorcycle, with the wide-open road ahead of them and the wind caressing her face, Liz felt exhilarated, unrestrained, with a sense of freedom that had eluded her since before she'd married Travis. She embraced the feeling, and Steve, and enjoyed the invigorating sensations rippling through her.
While she felt cocooned in warmth within Steve's leather jacket, her fingers grew cold, and she grew bold, tugging up the hem of his turtleneck a few inches so she could slip her palms beneath his shirt and absorb some of his body heat. Amazingly enough, his skin was blessedly hot, and she splayed her chilled hands on his flat belly. He didn't so much as flinch at the contact, and she groaned gratefully as she rubbed her palms up along his ribs, and her fingers began to thaw and warm.
Long after her hands had defrosted, she continued to stroke him, to absently caress his chest, his sides, his stomach, just because she liked touching him. Before long he was turning down the street that led to the Navy Pier and the shops, attractions, and restaurants located along the popular boardwalk.
He parked the motorcycle and helped her off it. It took her a moment to regain her footing since her legs were shaking from the vibrations of the engine. He removed her helmet and threaded his long fingers through her hair, restoring it to some semblance of order, she guessed. The tender look in his eyes, however, told her he'd combed through the silky strands for the pure pleasure of it.
She glanced out at the pier as realization dawned. 'Have you just coerced me into a date?'
He chuckled and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers intimately as they walked toward one of Chicago's largest landmarks and tourist attractions. 'No coercing about it, sweetheart. You got onto the back of my bike willingly.'
She couldn't argue with that-not that she wanted to. 'That was fun,' she admitted.
'What, feeling me up?'
She laughed, feeling more lighthearted and carefree than she had in the past three years. 'That, and riding on your bike.'
He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. 'I had a feeling you'd like it.'
She tipped her head, regarding him speculatively. 'Have you ever taken another woman on your motorcycle?' The question slipped out before she could stop it.
He didn't seem to mind her personal inquiry, though there was an intensity in his eyes that belied his casual demeanor. 'You're the first woman I've ever asked.'
His reply made her feel too giddy. 'Lucky me,' she said, uncaring how possessive she sounded.
He dropped a spontaneous kiss on her lips, which left her aching for a deeper, longer embrace. 'More like lucky
They ordered dinner at a casual seafood restaurant overlooking the harbor and shared a platter of fried clams, sauteed shrimp, steamed mussels, and crab legs. Messy finger foods that both of them fed to each other.
Liz took a drink of the frothy pina colada she'd ordered, and glanced at the man sitting next to her. 'Did you get my voice mail message today?'
'Yeah, I did.' He dipped a fried clam in cocktail sauce and brought it up to her mouth to eat, then licked the excess condiment from his own fingers. 'I was out doing some surveillance work on a case and figured we could talk about things tonight, in person. What did Antonio have to say?'
'The message was brief but to the point, and exactly what we've been hoping for.' She swirled the last shrimp in garlic-butter sauce and lifted it to his lips. He curled his tongue around the morsel of meat, slow and sensual, and her stomach fluttered with awareness. 'I have an appointment to meet with Antonio tomorrow morning at eleven. He said he wanted to talk to me about an advancement opportunity within the company.'
Steve wiped his mouth on a napkin, and since they'd pretty much cleared their platter, he motioned their waitress back to the table. 'Which I'm sure translates to offering you a position as a party girl.'
She waited while the young woman cleared their dishes, and Steve took the liberty of ordering a dessert for them to share-a slice of praline cheesecake drizzled with extra caramel sauce.
Once the waitress had moved on to fill their dessert order, she said, 'I won't accept the offer if Antonio suggests I take any client other than you to The Ultimate Fantasy party.'
A muscle in his jaw flexed, and his expression turned adamant. 'You can bet I won't let you go to one of those parties by yourself, or without me on your arm. And there's no way in hell I'd allow another man to think you're his for the night.'
