“Stop acting like a two-year-old, Isa. You’re in danger. I can’t protect you if I can’t see you.”
“I don’t want your protection!” she screeched, twisting against him. “I’d rather be dead than spend one more minute with you!”
Digging his fingers into her hair, Flynn grasped the back of her head and pulled it back so that her fiery eyes glared up to his. “Then I guess I’ll take advantage of your last minute.” His lips swooped down onto hers, the shock of their contact electric. Blood slammed through his veins, straight to his dick.
Holy fuck. Hungrily, Flynn’s lips ravaged hers. He gave her no quarter. There was nothing gentle about the way he ate at her mouth or the way his tongue licked against hers. She tasted just like he knew she would: hot and sweet. Sexy and defiant.
Her body softened against his, her hands no longer ripping at his arms. Instead, her fingers grasped his shoulders. The kiss deepened. He couldn’t get enough of her. Starved for her, he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to. What he wanted, she would never concede to.
Take her down the hallway to his room, lay her down on his bed and make slow, sweet love to her until he depleted her.
Flynn pulled her head back breaking their connection. Their breaths were hot and hard. Fast and furious. Catching her gaze, he lowered his lips to hers, and just before he brushed them across the swollen buds, he whispered, “You’re still alive. You’re going to stay that way, no matter if I have to fight you myself to make sure that happens.”
Breathing heavily, she licked her lips, slowly.
“Oh, no, baby, don’t do that or you’re going to hate me more.”
Her swollen lips lifted in a flirty smile. “I already do.”
Flynn’s heart pounded against his rib cage. Slanting his face across hers, he lowered his lips to hers and said, “I guess all bets are off, then.”
Catching his bottom lip between her teeth, Pink sucked it slowly into her mouth, running her tongue along the edge. Flynn’s heart rate accelerated. His dick swelled painfully in his shorts. When she released him, he pressed more intimately into her. There was no mistaking his raging erection. “All bets are back on, Ryker,” she whispered. “I’ll stay under one condition.”
“Anything.”
“You don’t touch me unless I need CPR.”
Her words were like ice water in his veins. “Seriously?”
“As a heart attack.” She grinned and licked his lips before pushing out of his embrace. “Take it or leave it, Special Agent.”
She didn’t leave him with much of a choice. Reluctantly he let her feet slide to the floor. When she moved across the room, he felt empty. The emptiness settled in with a hard thud when he realized she was right. What the hell was he thinking? Obviously he hadn’t been thinking. At least not with the head on his shoulders. It was frustrating to no end not to act on his attraction for the tiny dancer.
He had no choice and even if he did, it wouldn’t matter because she was adamant. Extending his hand, he said, “Deal.”
She smiled so sweetly, his heart thumpity-thumped. “No touching.” But she extended her hand toward him and did an air shake. “Deal. Now I’d like my phone back.”
Flynn picked it up from the bed where he had dropped it and tossed it to her. Dropping it into her purse, she looked up and smiled a smile that he knew was going to end with them both in trouble. “I want go for a ride on your motorcycle.”
“How are we going to do that without touching?”
“I never said I couldn’t touch you.”
As she pranced out of the bedroom, Flynn shook his head and followed her scent. He was so screwed.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Twenty minutes later they roared north on 13. The day was cooling as it wound down. Fog rolled in from the city; soon it would blanket the entire east bay. Izzy was swimming in one of Flynn’s leather jackets. He’d refused to let her mount the bike without it and the helmet. Wearing the helmet was the law, of course, but the jacket was huge and heavy, and if they took a spill it would protect her skin. She shivered as streams of cool air jettisoned up the sleeves, suddenly grateful for Flynn’s insistence she wear it.
Izzy held on to Flynn’s narrow waist as they banked right onto the 24 on-ramp.
There was something supremely primal about sitting behind such a strong, virile male as he expertly handled almost a thousand pounds of vibrating steel. This was a first for her. She’d never been on a motorcycle before. She’d thought she would be afraid. She was anything but. She had complete confidence in Flynn’s skill as a driver. Moments later, as they exited 24 onto Grizzly Peak Boulevard, Izzy threw her hands up in the air and laughed.
For the second time with Flynn, she felt the exaltation of speed, and freedom. Flynn reached back with his left hand and grabbed her behind her left knee, securing his hand there, fortifying her balance. His gesture tugged at her heart. It was thoughtful, and protective.
Even if it did violate her no-touching policy, she loved it.
It was instinctual with him, she realized. Something that just came naturally to him. He protected her with the dedication and ferocity that Turk had. She felt special. Safe.
The jealous bone she didn’t know she had, poked at her pride. Was he like this with all of the women he had dated? She suspected he was. It was part of his DNA. Not that they were dating, that had been clearly established. It was too damn bad though, because their ridiculous attraction to each other hadn’t waned. If anything it had grown. When he’d kissed her earlier, she came oh so close to separating him from his clothes and mounting him. Yeah, it had taken all she had not to make a fool out of herself.
Their kiss had served to remind her how vulnerable she was. When he touched her, her willpower vanished. She needed not to engage with him, hence her condition of not touching her. She laughed, once again finding sick humor in the fact that she was glued to his ass, arms wrapped around his waist, her legs tucked behind his and his hand riding her thigh.
He squeezed her thigh in acknowledgment of her outburst. As they began to wind up into the foothills, Flynn released her leg to put both hands on the handlebars.
She relaxed, enjoying the scenery, the brush of the cool air on her face and the feel of Flynn against her. Each time she thought of Alex, her mom, seeing her father earlier, and what she wished could be with Flynn, she pushed the thoughts from her head. Instead, Izzy thought of the positives in her life. She was alive, she was healthy, and she had a plan. Giving herself permission to push her boundaries, to be afraid but brave, and most of all to just be who she was, excited her. Izzy didn’t have to hide behind who she thought she should be, but stand proud for who she was now.
She was free! Free to be whoever she wanted to be. No boundaries. Warmth infused her body as she realized what that meant. Unconsciously she tightened her arms around Flynn’s waist, tucking her hands beneath his leather jacket. Her hands were cold, but his body was warm.
As they wound higher up in the Oakland hills, Izzy looked to her left. The sun was setting, almost completely obliterated by the thick rolling fog. Flynn slowed, turned left onto the other side of the road, and stopped at a vista point. In all of the years she had lived in the east bay, Izzy had never been up here. Sprawling before her was an unobstructed view of the entire bay, all the way to San Francisco, that was engulfed in a huge bank of fog. Flynn cut the engine, and helped her off. Hanging his helmet off the right handle bar, she unstrapped her helmet and hung it from the left one.
“My God, this is amazing, Flynn,” she said, walking to the edge of the wall.