Dirty Ties

“Might have blood on the sleeve.” He held up his arm. Sure enough, a dry stain darkened the cuff. “Increases the value, right?”

A reminder that he injured, maimed, and often killed during the races. That was the kind of man I was rubbing up against. But temptation was carved into his sexy-as-fuck body. I couldn’t back away, couldn't fight it.

He was the only man who could arouse me and scare me in the same breath, who could make my pulse thunder so ferociously I felt carelessly drunk. “Is that your blood?”

“Drago Carrara’s.”

The Italian racer he’d beat tonight. I followed his waistband from abs to spine, the pragmatic part of me looking for a gun or a blade while the throw-my-panties-to-the-wind part savored the feel of every muscled indentation that carved his hips. “Are you hiding a weapon?”

He grabbed my wandering hand, spun us until the wall caught my back, and oh my God, his grip pressed my palm against the steel bar between his legs. “Am I?”

I had no words. No, I was operating in a haze of lust. His fingers abandoned the button of my pants, traveled up my ribs, and before I realized his intent, he ripped my cami from neck to waist.

My breasts fell free, nipples hardening beneath the gaze of his visor. Then his hands were everywhere, a frenzied caress of skin on skin, of heat and want. He cupped and stroked, tracing every curve, his cock driving against my palm, his breath rushing out in sharp exhales.

Every touch, every thrust of his hips, made me even more needy, my mind fuzzy, lost in the feel of him. His fingerprints branded my skin, and the temperature in the elevator spiked from hot to atomic. I never wanted this moment to end.

How far could we take it? I didn’t have condoms with me and doubted he’d carried any to the race. Didn’t stop my mind from rushing to the desired conclusion. “STDs?”

“Presumptuous about where this is going, aren’t we?”

I traced the curve of his erection, molding my fingers around its impossibly hard girth. “I’m holding some pretty damning evidence, Evader.”

His hands curled around my neck, his thumbs trailing gently over the cuts. He held me like he wanted to kiss me. The kind of kiss that lasted for hours, the kind that would leave an eternal aftershock.

The kind of kiss that would unveil his eyes. Were they green or brown? Dark blue like mine? More importantly, would they give me a window into the man behind the mask? The man who’d risked his ass to save mine.

I swallowed against his touch, wanting that kiss. “I want to thank you for helping me in the alley.” I reached for the strap beneath his chin.

He caught my hand and pulled it between our bodies, his other hand still wrapped around my neck. “Thank me by inviting me up.”

Could he feel my pulse beating against my throat? I felt it everywhere, slamming through my arteries and jolting a throb through my clit. Heaven help me, I wanted to fuck the electronic vibrations out of his voice. I shook my head.

His body stiffened, his tone deepening. “Got someone waiting upstairs?”

Collin was probably seven inches deep inside Seth right now. Definitely not waiting. “No.”

He relaxed, melting his weight against me. “All right.” He thumb stroked the hollow of my throat. “We both have our secrets. Invite me up. We’ll keep the lights off. Hell, we can keep our helmets on.”

This man, my bed, in the dark? I’d let him blindfold me just so he’d remove his helmet. My hands would be my eyes, exploring his face, his mouth, every tantalizing inch of his chiseled body. I smoothed my palms over the ridges of his chest, stretching my fingers upward, past his collarbone.

His broad shoulders rolled against my touch, his skin warm and soft over packs of muscle. So much power in his arms, his sculpted chest and strong hands. I’d seen it all in the photos, barely confined by his leathers.

He wasn’t a man women said no to. The way he carried himself, the way he fought. Built like a warrior, he knew how to manipulate torque and power between his legs. He knew what he could do with it, his killer instincts and quick reflexes, his silhouette so sleek and intimidating on his bike, now all hard and demanding pressed up against me. He knew how to get what he wanted.

“Let’s go up.” With a flick of his wrist, he freed the chin strap on my helmet.

Shit. I slapped my hands on top of my head to hold the helmet in place. “Sure, Stranger McDanger. I’ll just give you the security code to my alarm while I’m at it and let you watch me while I’m sleeping. That sounds safe.”

His hand swept down my throat, along my breastbone, and squeezed my tit. “You won’t be sleeping.” He pinched my nipple, hard enough to make my eyes water and my thighs tremble. “Think you’re safer here than in your condo?”