Looking for Trouble (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 1)

This was wrong. So wrong.

Finally, his arm turned under her touch and he slid his hand around hers. He stood, and Sophie followed.

* * *

CHRIST, THERE WAS something incredibly sexy about this woman. Something that couldn’t be summed up by the slim waist and cute face and black heels. It was that smile, small and secret, and the way she watched him with a challenge in her eyes, wanting him to do...something.

If she were timid, he wasn’t sure he’d ever have noticed her. If she’d hidden behind her glasses and sweaters, his eyes would have skipped right over her, letting her red hair and brown eyes blend into the crowd. But she wasn’t hiding, she was...waiting.

And Alex was perfectly willing to step up to the plate.

He touched the small of her back when they reached the stairway, gesturing her to go ahead. The feel of the warm, thin fabric of her sweater reminded him that she wasn’t quite dressed for a bike ride.

“Here,” he offered when they got to the front door of the loud restaurant. He eased his jacket over her slim shoulders. He’d be more than warm enough with her hot little body pressed to his back. It was still warm for fall. Sixty-five or so.

“Thank you,” she said softly, slipping her arms into the sleeves, then laughing when her hands failed to emerge.

“That should keep your hands warm. Have you ever been on a bike?”

“No.” He walked her toward the bike and watched her eyes roam over it again, greedy with excitement. Shit. Alex wondered if she’d look at his body that way, if he stripped down and offered a ride. A man could hope.

“It’s a 1980 Triumph. A T140. I’ve had it almost fifteen years now.”

“It’s big,” she said.

He flashed her a smile. “Not as big as a hog.”

“But less common?” she asked.

“Bingo.”

Alex unlatched the pannier at the back of the bike and got out his helmet, then grabbed another one he kept for the occasional passenger. “All you have to do is hang on to me. Stay with my movements.”

“I think I can handle that.”

“And watch your legs. Keep your feet on the rests. You don’t want to burn yourself on the exhaust.”

“Okay.” She slipped her glasses into her purse, then eased the helmet over her hair and clipped the chin strap.

Alex had to stop himself from smiling at her little face framed by the big helmet. She had the most innocent face. And then that wicked red mouth... He took her purse and stored it in the pannier. “Are you ready, Sophie?”

The brightness in her eyes answered the question. Alex mounted the bike and hit the throttle. She licked her lips as the engine roared to life. He tried to ignore the way his cock stirred at the sight. Yeah, she was damn ready.

He waved her closer, and Sophie held her skirt in the primmest little gesture he’d ever seen a woman manage as she swung her leg over the bike and slid into place behind his hips. He waited a moment for her to arrange herself. Her front pressed to him, her arms came around his waist and her hands finally emerged from the leather sleeves to clasp each other.

“Ready?” he asked over his shoulder. He felt her head bob in a nod.

“Hold on.”

He eased away from the curb and her arms tightened. If it were daylight, he would have headed north, but since there were no sights to see, he took the road that went south from town. It was a little more wide-open for her first ride.

The moon was just rising above the hills, a view that Alex never got tired of on night rides. You forgot how much light it cast until you had to ride without it. Being swallowed up by darkness had its own beauty, but it was nothing compared to this, the silver light shimmering off the aspen trees that peeked out between the towering pines.

The road was a blank strip ahead of them, defined only by the middle line and the pale shoulders on either side. They slipped free of the town limits, passed a few trucks, and then there was a long straight path as they roared toward the Snake River Canyon.

After the first few minutes, he felt Sophie begin to relax against him, her body fitting tighter to his. Alex began to relax, too. She felt nice against him, soft and sweet. He hadn’t had a woman on his bike in a while. There’d been women since Andrea, but mostly one-night stands at whatever uninspiring motel he was sleeping in.

When he’d been younger, that had been one of the great advantages of traveling. New women. New possibilities. No commitments. But he’d gotten grumpier since then, older, and often his hand offered more relaxation with way less hassle.