Page 27 of A Little Naughty

CHAPTER7

JEMIMA

Ithink Raif Jones might be the perfect man. He’s dirty and sexy, and he kisses like a rockstar. He’s quiet, but he sees everything. And his eyes…

Not to mention, he totally gets it. Eurekaismagical.

Flying across the sand on the back of his bike, I’ve never felt so happy and free in my life, like there was nothing else on the planet but him and me and the enormous sun setting on the water, turning everything to gold.

I took a chance kissing him, but it was the only thing that could happen in that moment. There was no other choice.

Now we’re racing back the way we came with the moon growing brighter overhead. It’s almost completely full tonight, and it’s so bright. The ocean is bathed in silver, like it did a wardrobe change just for the occasion, day to night.

My arms are tight around his waist, and his back is warm against my front. I nestle my face in his shoulders, and my insides tingle as his hand slides down to my bare calf. He gives it a gentle squeeze, and his grip is firm and possessive.

The space between my legs clenches, and I swallow the tightness in my throat.I want more than a kiss, pretty girl…

Me, too, sexy man.

When we get back to where we left the road, he slows to a stop, killing the engine. He steps off the bike, and I hesitate before doing the same, watching as he pulls down the kickstand.

He turns a small dial on the dash, and a radio comes to life, playing that old Fleetwood Mac song “Angel.”Can this night be any more perfect?

I exhale a laugh, and he looks up at me in that way he does. It’s impossible to read, and it’ssoJames Dean. “What’s making you laugh?”

I like how he says it that way. It’s not pushy like a “What’s so funny?”

Excitement sizzles in my veins, and I only want to close my eyes and dance.

“I’ve never watched a sunset that way, on the back of a motorcycle flying at a million miles an hour.”

“Forty-five.” His voice is quiet, sexy.

“Now we’re here with the moon growing brighter and the radio playing that song. It’s like you planned the perfect night for me.”

He shakes his head, leaning back against his bike and crossing his arms, his muscles stretching the sleeves of his plaid shirt. He wipes a hand over his mouth as if to hide his smile, but it’s too late. He can’t cover that dimple in his cheek.

“I got lucky.”

He’s so fucking hot, this bad boy from the wrong side of town with tattoos on his arms and long hair and a sketchy past. This man, who nobody—not even him—will let me see where he lives.

“You’re saying it’s not like this with all the other girls?” I add a little extra tease to my tone.

“I usually do this by myself.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never met anyone I thought would appreciate it.”

Pride surges in my chest. He saved this experience for someone special…me.

It’s another piece of the puzzle, but it’s not enough. I want to know everything about him. I want to know what he was like as a little boy. I want to know what kind of trouble he got into at school. I want to know what kind of problems he solved.

I step a little closer to where he’s propped against the bike, watching me. “You mentioned your mom before. Do you think I might interview her?”

His brow furrows. “She died when I was a kid.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” My chin drops. “We have that in common. I lost my mom, too.”

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