His eyes widened. “Love it? I ride to fly, to feel, and breathe. It heals me.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Riding is a way of communicating without words. It’s fuckin’ living. There’s nothing better.”
“You make me want to try it some time.”
Crow took a few steps toward her, his eyes catching and holding hers. “I’d like you pressed against me on the back of my bike.”
The rasp of his voice sent shivers skittering over her skin.
And then he reached out and grasped her hands, tugging her to him. She inhaled sharply as the palms of her hands splayed against his chiseled chest. She had every intention of pushing him away, but didn’t. The faint tones of his aftershave mingled with the crisp smell of leather, making her senses reel.
“Crow, I …” her words trailed away as he began nuzzling her neck with kisses as soft as whispers. Angie knew she should pull away, tell him to knock it off, and stomp away in indignation, but couldn’t. Delicious sensations danced through her body as she tipped her head back, surprised that her lips were parted.
His head was angled slightly to the side as his mouth came nearer to hers. Their breaths mingled and her pulse fluttered as she closed her eyes. He brushed his lips against her, kissed her lightly, then drew a long, deep breath and pulled away.
“You said you had work to do.” Gentleness and a thread of regret laced his tone.
A jolt of anger and embarrassment shot through her. Gripping her purse, she turned away and marched over to the car.
“Angie, I—”
“Save it!” She pressed the key fob and the headlights flashed on.
The sound of his footsteps reverberated off the asphalt, and she quickly opened the door and tossed her purse on the floor.
“Be careful, okay?” he said.
“I don’t need you to worry about me—I have a shitload of brothers to do that. Next time if you want to ask me out to dinner don’t make up some BS about a damn demon or whatever. Just be a man and fuckingaskme.”
Without waiting for his response, she slammed the door, switched on the ignition, and sped away. Tears of humiliation stung her eyes as she maneuvered the car through the quiet streets. Anger at herself for letting a good looking guy in leather get to her, pricked at her the entire drive home.
Once she entered her townhouse and kicked off her shoes, she poured herself a large glass of red wine –knowing she’d regret it in the morning—and shuffled into the family room. The cell phone buzzed and she tossed it aside when Crow’s name flashed on the screen.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, asshole.”
As she watched the images on the screen, she tried to figure out if she was angry at herself for not pushing Crow away or mad at him for making a fool of her. At that moment, the only thing she knew for sure was that men were nothing but jerks.
I’m so done withhim. And that ridiculous story about a shadow man who is seven feet tall. I can’t believe I bought into it. He’s just as bad as Devon. I’m so done withallmen!
Ignoring Crow’s phone call again, she propped her feet up on the table and brought the wineglass to her mouth.