A Is for Alpha Male (27 page)

I had to get yet another long sleeve shirt of his, as I had never returned his other one. And never planned on it. I might even ask to be buried in it.

Though, I was hoping I had time to decide.

Shutting myself in the bathroom, based more on routine than modesty, I changed into his shirt, letting it hang down long against my thighs.

Realizing I had forgotten about pants, I put my hand on the knob, intending to open the door and ask Danny to get my bag for me.

However, Danny beat me to it, ripping the doorknob, and thus the door, out of my hand, opening it regardless of his lack of knowledge as to my state of dress, and handed me my pink tote, placing a sweet kiss on my cheek as he backed out.

Christ on a cracker, that was nice.

His lips felt so at home against my skin.

I shook myself out of my stupor, changed pants speedily, and then made my way out of the bathroom, into the bedroom, down the plain, white hall, and into the living room where I found Danny lounging back on the couch, his knee cocked with his opposite ankle resting sideways against it, splaying his thighs wide and making him look altogether delicious.

“Ready?” he asked unnecessarily as I entered the room, very obviously ready.

“Uh, yeah,” I responded, eager to feel the wind whip through my hair at the slightly muted speed of my baby four-wheeler. “Let’s go!”

His answer was nothing but a rough chuckle, followed by the action of him lifting his manly weight effortlessly off of the couch.

Reaching out to span the distance between us, he grabbed my hand, laced his long fingers between mine, squeezing when they reached their fully curled position, and led me to the back porch, through it, and out into the field, setting a brisk pace on our way to the shed.

When I started to have trouble keeping up, my short legs forced into a jog by the span of his stride, he stopped, swung me up on his back like a sack of potatoes, wrapped my arms around his neck, and started to walk, forcing me to wrap my legs around him of my own accord.

I was confused and still waiting on an explanation for our state of play, but I was also greedy.

And being such a deadly sin, the greed won out.

I accepted every touch, kiss, and caress I could get my grubby, little hands on. And I wasn’t about to ruin it with questions.

Not yet. I hadn’t gotten my fill of all of those sensory rewards.

With my new mode of travel, I barely even noticed the distance, but I did notice the man between my thighs. Every step he took seemed like it flexed a different muscle, and I put all my concentration into studying their exact movements.

Danny reached back behind our joined bodies, splayed his palms on my ass, and used their placement as an opportunity to aid my decent off of his back.

Or maybe he was using the excuse of aiding my decent to cop a feel.

It could go either way.

I jogged over to my miniature ride like a woman possessed, grabbed my hair tie off of my wrist, secured my hair at the nape of my neck, and pulled my helmet on. Instead of even attempting to fasten it this time, I turned straight to Danny, tilted my chin up and back, and whined pathetically, “Help me.”

Danny just smiled, set his helmet back down on the seat of his four-wheeler, turned back to me, grabbed the straps at my chin, fastened them efficiently, and then swiped his finger along the line of my chin as he was moving away.

God, I loved that sweet touch. It was almost insignificant, but only almost. I noticed.

I noticed big time.

Danny climbed on his full size four-wheeler, and then gestured for me to do the same. I swung my leg over easily, mirroring his movements almost exactly.

He fired his up, and I followed suit, giving it a little gas to keep it running until it warmed up.

After one last look over his shoulder and my answering nod, Danny took off towards the trails and I followed in his wake, loving the feel of the power between my legs and the thrill of the speed at which we traveled.

Danny may not have discussed anything of importance yet, but he had certainly hit the activity schedule out of the park.

“Is there a reason you’re climbing me like a fucking spider monkey?” Danny turned and asked as we came to a stop at the red light. “You’re the one who put having a motorcycle on your list. Call me crazy, but I thought that implied that you like riding on one.”

After finishing our ride on the four-wheelers, we had showered up, this time uneventfully. Danny had used Wade’s shower in his absence, gentlemanly allowing me to rinse my stank off immediately this time.

We hadn’t had any heavy conversation whatsoever, but our camaraderie and flirty touches had come easily and often.

After feeding me a delicious chicken and lettuce wrap for a late lunch, Danny had silently grabbed my hand, led me outside, taken me out back to a garage I hadn’t noticed existed until that moment, and opened it up to reveal a 1999 Harley Softail Custom, black with a red pinstripe.

Holy shitballs, it was a hot bike. And I couldn’t believe he had an effing bike. In fact, I had had no clue.

Blinded my my excitement, we hopped on right then and headed out for a ride, but while I liked it, reading about in books had never done justice to exactly what I was feeling.

It was a heady mixture of sheer ecstasy and mildly deer-in-headlights-syndrome fear.

“I’ve never been on one before, thank you very much, and it’s scary.”

“You put it on the list, and you’ve never been on one before?” he asked, his words not at all short on exasperation.

“Well, yeah. It sounds really hot in books. And I do like it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel like I could die at any minute,” I tried to explain, my hands digging into their grip on the belt at his waist.

Yeah, there were definite perks to this.

His one-dimpled smirk was downright swoon worthy as he told me over his shoulder, “If it makes you feel any better, you don’t have to be on a motorcycle to be in danger of dying any minute. Freak accidents and all that.”

Despite his hot as hell grin, I still snapped, “You know, Dan-o. Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel better at all. Can’t imagine why.”

The feel of his laughter while my body was plastered to the back of his was almost indescribable.

Almost
indescribable. There were two words that illustrated it perfectly.

Fucking. Delectable.

Grabbing my hands and placing a quick, unbelievably sweet, confusing as all fuck kiss on my palm, he wrapped them tighter around his body and shifted the bike back into gear.

I only screamed a little as the light turned green and he took off like a bat out of hell.

And it had nothing to do with being scared of the ride.

THE RUBBER BAND of my sanity could only take so much strain, so when we pulled in at his house and he lovingly lifted my weight off of his bike with his hands on my hips, caressing my sides as he pulled away in a manner that was definitely more than friendly, I broke.

Running my hands through my hair, I stepped away from him before throwing my arms out to my sides with my normal flair for drama.

“Fuck, Danny!” I yelled. “What are you trying to do to me? I’m about one breakdown short of being committed from all of your fucking mixed signals!”

“Well, you’ll look good in the jacket. White’s a good color on you,” he deadpanned, obviously gunning for World’s Most Annoying Human Being with all he had.

I had to admit, that was hilarious, but I was about to lose my mind.

Days and days I had waited patiently for him to bring up the topic we so desperately needed to discuss. To give me a definite sign of which side of the fence on which he was settled.

And he had given me nothing.

Nothing but fun talks, sweet words, and confusing as shit, innocently flirty touches.

I needed to know where we stood. I needed to know if he was going to give me everything I wanted and needed or if I was going to need therapy, and ice cream, and lots and lots of vodka in order to find closure.

It was official.

I wasn’t starting to break. I wasn’t at my breaking point.

I was
broken
.

Putting all of my pent up emotion into six words, a glossy sheen of tears coating the turquoise and white of my eyes, I snapped, “I will effing throat punch you!” My voice was so loud and so tortured that it came out about as raggedy as Ann and Andy.

Losing all self control, my arm cocked back, and I was seconds away from making my threat a reality.

The next thing I knew, I was flush up against him, being crushed to his body by the brutal strength of his muscular arms, and his lips were crashing down on mine, my ass pressing up against the seat of his parked motorcycle.

Judging by the force with which his lips hit mine, I expected the kiss to be ravenous, eager, and all together out of control.

Instead, Danny’s lips slowed, their rosy, plump skin tickling its way to the very outside edge of my cupid’s bow. I could feel the rapid beat of his heart deep within his chest, and the air flow in and out of my mouth swirled with the turbulence of his varying breaths.

His scruff encased lips moved languidly, even lovingly, over every millimeter, making sure they didn’t miss even one minuscule part of mine, a faint tickle from his facial hair just barely registering on the surrounding skin.

My eyes fluttered, and I could practically feel my pupils dilating behind their lowered lids.

This was it. This was right.

So fucking right.

My body’s weight settled into his, and his hands caressed my arms, sides, hips, and jaw like they’d spent their whole life waiting to do it.

Pressure both soft and deliberate, exerted over each and every goose bump that rose out of the depth of my golden skin, brought me the pleasure I’d longed for and imagined in each and every one of my fantasies.

And no, I’m not shitting you. If felt
that
good.

His fingertips finally done exploring, his lips finally getting their fill of soft, lingering touches, he used his tongue to part the seam of my lips, just barely running the very tip of it along the inside rim of both the top and bottom rosy pillows.

The taste of him assaulted my mouth, minty and fresh despite the time since brushing.

I worked hard for it, my body being trapped between Danny and the bike making it almost impossible to move, and got up onto my tip toes so that I could wrap my arms around his broad shoulders.

Heat radiated off of his body, and I could feel his swollen, hard arousal pressing against my abdomen as his tongue finally connected with mine, just barely skimming the surface of my taste buds.

God, he
wanted
me.

And I sure as hell wanted him.

Breathing had become labor intensive, all of my limbs felt heavy and sluggish, and without Danny’s support I would have been a gooey mess on the floor.

But with all of that, I still had enough mental faculties to know that I had to get a few things straight.

Sleeping with him knowing that he had real feelings for me versus sleeping with him based on hormones in the heat of the moment could be the difference between a celebratory drink and depression fueled alcohol poisoning.

Plus, I could tell he wanted me, and wanted me right now. I could feel it like a giant arrow poking me in the stomach.

Or a fucking police baton.

It was
giant
. And a wee bit scary.

In other words, I could definitely put a big, fat, bubble letter check mark next to J is for Junk.

I couldn’t keep myself from giving him a little taste of his own medicine.

A lesson in delayed gratification.

Reluctantly pulling his lips from mine, I whispered, “Danny.”

When denied the connection with my lips, he just moved on to my jaw, kissing his way down it and then spending a little extra time at the sensitive spot behind my ear.

I repeated his name trying to get his attention. “Danny.”

This time he responded, but it came out more like a simple recognition than an indication that he was patiently waiting for me to continue further. “Hales.”