Page 41 of Fairy Tale Lies
“Would you mind if we rode around for a bit? We’re supposed to stay at my mother’s tonight, but I don’t want to arrive without Cindy.”
Two grown-ass women fearing their mother’s disapproval was ridiculous, and he figured any trouble Cindy landed in was her own damn fault.
At least her disregard for Greta’s well-being had resulted in him having more time with her, so he kept his opinions to himself. “Do you have your helmet strapped and ready?”
When she answered she was, he maneuvered the bike onto the quiet street.
After riding around for a while, he worried her thin summer dress was no match against the chilly night air. “Are you cold or hungry? We could stop at a diner,” he asked when they were on a side road, and he could be heard above the engine.
“I’m fine against you. You give off heat like a furnace.”
“Now I’m kinda wishing the weather was colder, forcing you to snuggle in more.”
Laughing, she somehow managed to move in closer. “Let’s ride around a bit longer. Maybe Cindy will call soon.”
“Okay. I should feel the phone go off. I put it in my back pocket.” Earlier, he’d taken it before setting her purse in one of the saddlebags.
“Hmm, another reason to press in closer. Your body against mine and my vibrating phone…would be exquisite,” she murmured huskily, her breath tickling the back of his neck.
This woman was going to be the death of him. “Keep talking, and this is going to be a hazardous ride indeed.”
“You can handle it.” She ran her hands under his shirt.
“Jesus…Greta.” Weeks of tentative kisses and touches had left him in a constant state of arousal.
Now, with her hands dipping along the waist of his jeans, he wondered if it was possible to spontaneously combust from lust.
Chapter Sixteen
Greta had always regarded herself as more of a wine and roses kind of woman. Not someone aroused by motorcycles and leather. However, this particular man, and his bike, was an aphrodisiac.
She strummed her fingertips along his abs, reveling in the tightening of his muscles under her touch. She traveled lower, along the zipper of his jeans. He said her name, and it sounded like a prayer.
Around Jacob, her inhibitions fell away, and she didn’t have the strength of character to care.
They stopped at a traffic light, and Jacob twisted around. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to pull off at the nearest dark parking lot and take you over this bike.”
“Promise?” She traced her tongue along the shell of his ear, relishing the way he shivered and groaned.
Her behavior was scandalous, but she couldn’t seem to stop. Jacob heated her like no other man ever had. He woke her desires, made her pulse pound and her lust bloom.
“Something I can help you with?” he snarled.
Greta jerked back, his sharp voice yanked her from her lust-induced haze. She was mortified to find a car filled with teenage boys idling next to them, ogling her and grinning.
So much for assuming the road would be empty this time of night.
“Keep your eyes on the fucking road.” Jacob’s menacing tone had the boys whipping their heads around, staring straight ahead, their smirks dropping.
The light turned green, and they sped away. Her humiliation deepened as the taillights vanished into the horizon. Here she was, sitting on a motorcycle with her dress hiked almost to her panties, practically fondling a man.
In public.
What happened to her ingrained respectability? What was it about Jacob that made her forget it?
The continuation of the ride was PG and silent. Greta wondered if he was angry with her behavior.
Blake would have been furious at the public embarrassment. Would Jacob behave the same, lambast her with a sharp tongue, cutting with cruel words?
