Nice and Naughty

Nice and Naughty

Jayne Rylon

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

Macon GA 31201

Copyright © 2008 by

ISBN: 978-1-60504-251-0

Edited by Angela James

Cover by Scott Carpenter

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: September 2008

Dedication

To AMA.

Thank you for your suggestions, both for this story and that I should write at all.

“Keep true to the dreams of thy youth.” ~ Friedrich von Schiller

P.S. The answer to my previous dedication: 7 days. I stand corrected even though it did take you a year to mention it.

Chapter One

Alexa shifted her convertible into fourth gear with the steady confidence of a seasoned racer. Wind gusts turned shocks of her hair into stinging whips. Her eyes squinted against the sunrays streaming down, guaranteeing sunburn that would peel half her face off. The noise was deafening.

She loved it.

Flying around serpentine curves in the rural landscape, she drank in the fresh mountain air and the beat of the heavy-metal rock screaming from her stereo. Warm, supple leather seats cradled her skin beneath the denim cutoff shorts and halter top she wore.

A refreshing ride provided the escape she needed to blow off some steam after a crazy week wrapping up a consulting project that had consumed her personal time for months. Before shifting lanes to hug the inside edge of the next turn in the deserted road, she glanced in her rearview mirror. A reflected point of light dazzled behind her. Another vehicle.

Please, don’t be a cop.

Alexa slowed to a modest ten miles an hour over the speed limit while debating the likelihood of talking her way out of yet another ticket. This time properly using her turn signal, she merged into the right lane.

When she checked again, the flicker had turned into a full-on blaze. But the machine rapidly gaining on her was no police car. Instead, the silhouette of a man on a motorcycle came into focus. The distance between them shrank steadily as the man partook of a little joy riding of his own.

Mmm mmm.

This was no plastic crotch rocket. A beefy, chrome-and-leather Harley with matching rider closed the gap between them when he accelerated. His black helmet with mirrored visor blocked her view of his face, which beat seeing him clearly. It left her imagination free rein to fill in the blanks, painting him rugged and handsome.
I bet he’ll play with me.

She waited until he pulled alongside her sleek, silver graphite car with momentum to pass before she revved the engine. The visor swiveled in her direction, catching her in its reflective surface. Her windblown hair, the glow on her face from the thrill of the ride and her broad smile shone through despite the distortion. Alexa might have imagined the searing heat of his perusing gaze, but she didn’t think so. Raising her eyebrows she mouthed, “Race?”

His leather-gloved hand came off the handlebar and formed a thumbs up. Damp heat that had nothing to do with the scorching summer day spread between her thighs in anticipation.

Verifying no one else approached behind them, she slowed her car to a stop in the middle of the road. The mystery rider followed suit. He dragged his arm through the air, depicting the likeness of a bridge about a mile down the road. She nodded in understanding.

A thrill borne from their impending competition raced through her as they both prepared for the launch while the heavy beat of music pumped her up, a perfect background for driving.

This is crazy. What am I doing?
Her practical side struggled to surface. Another car could happen along any second, though honestly, the road didn’t get much traffic being out in the middle of the national forest. And, hell, hadn’t she gone out today looking for some excitement?

She might have backed out if given more time to debate and waffle. The rational facet of her personality dominated most often but at that moment the opportunity for thinking ended. One black-booted foot on the ground, Harley held up three fingers above his palm braced on the broad handlebar. Her calves tensed, poised to let out the clutch and step on the gas as his ring finger folded down leaving two, one…

They both took off, burning rubber that stained the highway behind them. Alexa timed her start perfectly. Unconcerned, she paced herself as her opponent edged out in front. He easily had her off the line. Nothing she could do about that. The dark rider probably thought the raw power of his bike guaranteed an easy win. But he wouldn’t suspect the modifications she’d made to her car. When she pushed the gas pedal to the floor, the high-pitched whine of a turbocharger spooling up overpowered the roar of the engine. When the extra horsepower kicked in, she shot forward, making progress toward catching the man on the bike.

Some part of her mind registered the broad expanse of his back and the way his leather chaps highlighted his jean-clad ass like a gilded frame around a priceless work of art. The ease with which he balanced astride his iron pony seamlessly merged machine and man.

It was like dangling a steak in front of the hounds at the dog track. She tightened her grip on the gear stick. They weaved down the side of the mountain. Precise maneuvering as she attacked each bend in the road made up for the extra power of his motorcycle. Back and forth. They traded places as the light filtered between the trees in blinding flashes that marked the passing distance. Off to the left, glimpses of the bridge came into view between the pines. It was going to be close.

One final switchback turn separated them from the finish. She assured herself she’d done this many times before. In fact, she generally drove this way just to see how fast she could make it, each time pushing the limits a little further. Exhilaration blossomed in the pit of her stomach. She’d never dared to try this speed. She had the advantage, though. The optimal line for making the turn originated from her inside lane. Side by side, they entered the winding section of asphalt. When the biker hesitated, for a fraction of an instant, she gunned it. Tires squealed but held as she zoomed over the wooden structure, overtaking the sexy rider at the finish. Pumping one fist in the air, Alexa coasted to the shoulder of the road.

A section of the grassy area past the bridge had worn down over time to create a patch of hard-packed dirt people utilized as a parking area when they stopped to admire the view. The rustic arch spanned a sparkling river that cut a swath through the verdant forest surrounding it. Not steep enough to prevent people from walking down safely from above, the hillside tumbled down to form a gorge, which trapped the cooler air coming off the water. It made an ideal spot for swimming, fishing or savoring the peace and solitude of the secluded area.

She burst from her car, still cheering. Mindful not to slam the door, she made her way toward the man on the motorcycle even as he swung his leg over his bike. The elation over victory was heady, making her bolder than usual. She appraised his long limbed frame with blatant curiosity.

Holy hot guy, Batman.

A wave of desire struck her. The aftereffects of her adrenaline rush spiked, demanding an outlet. She absorbed every detail of the fine male specimen standing legs apart in front of her. His impressive build dwarfed her average height, making him well over six feet tall. In addition to his black leather boots, chaps and gloves, his trim hips and athletic form sent a clear message. This was not a man to be messed with. His broad shoulders and bulging arms filled out a scuffed leather jacket creased from molding to his muscles as he rode.

No man had ever looked so good. She wished he would leave his helmet on, allowing her to preserve her mental picture of his matching good looks. That wasn’t going to happen, though. He’d already reached up to tug it off. Breath stuck in her throat as the lower edge of the helmet revealed his gorgeous face inch by inch, like a curtain going up on an ornate stage. Time slowed. In detail unmatched by her wildest fantasies, he showed first the tan skin on his corded neck followed by a strong jaw covered in scruffy stubble the color of expensive cognac. His full, sensual lips showcased his amazing smile. By the time she saw his defined cheekbones and classic nose, she had a serious case of lust. His deep emerald eyes and sandy hair polished off the package.

Her fate was sealed.

Air whooshed from her lungs as the Earth began to rotate again. The intense reaction of her body caused her confident stride to falter. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice. As he hung his helmet on the handlebars with false nonchalance, Mr. Motorcycle kept himself too busy conducting a similar inspection of her physical features to detect the disruption he caused to her system. Alexa felt a little smug, instead of insulted, when his gaze lingered on her curves. She was in deep shit.

“Nice race.” He broke the silence before it became awkward. The smoky timbre of his voice curled around her insides, making her shiver despite the heat.

“Not so bad yourself.” If genuine arousal didn’t course through her, the obvious implication might have embarrassed her. But, somehow, this man triggered a primal reaction. This kind of instant attraction had never happened to her before. It was potent.
You need to get out more.

For such a tall and muscular man, he moved with fluid agility. He peeled off his gloves and tucked them in his back pocket. The gesture caused his black T-shirt, visible between the folds of his now unzipped jacket, to stretch tight over defined pecs. His boots settled directly in front of her thin-soled racing sneakers as he extended his hand.

“Congratulations.”

Warmth spread from the intersection of their flesh when she wrapped her fingers around his substantial hand. The brief contact ratcheted up the hormones already raging inside her. After a firm but reasonable squeeze, his fingertips caressed the back of her hand for a moment before they slipped away. Face to face with him, his size, strength and stranger status might have intimidated her on an average day, when she lived in a world of rational thought and practicality. Instead, in this moment, her thoughts centered on what it would be like to be surrounded by all that strapping muscle.

“Thank you.” The response meant more than a courtesy. She only indulged her wild streak on rare occasions and he had provided the perfect opportunity with their impromptu race. Although her voice sounded breathy to her own ears, relief flowed over her when he remained unaware of her body’s haywire reaction. His firm bicep brushed the side of Alexa’s breast as he continued past her to inspect her car.

Was that an accident?
Her nipple didn’t care either way. It responded instantly by hardening against the silky fabric of her halter top. Wild and crazy this morning, she’d decided against wearing a bra though she’d never left the house without one before. It was turning into a day of firsts.

She stole the opportunity to verify the view from behind lived up to her memory based on the brief glimpse she’d caught during the race. It did. The man had a killer ass. When he threw a glance, and a devilish smirk, over his shoulder, she guessed he wasn’t as oblivious as he seemed.

Their eyes met and she saw an answering spark in his.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured reverently.

The car. He’s talking about your car.
She tried to convince herself, but the rationalization rang false. While he admired the convertible, something more arced between them. Attempting to shake off the unusual reaction inflaming her senses by focusing on her vehicle, Alexa stepped a little closer.

“I’ve done a lot of work on it.”

“Can I touch her?” His implicit understanding of her dislike for people handling her vehicle made her confident he would treat it with the respect it deserved.

“Sure, go ahead.” Plus, she got to watch the way his broad finger stroked the defined contour in the flawlessly waxed side panel, which inflamed her senses nearly as much as if he’d placed the caress on her skin instead.

Before she could stop to analyze what her subconscious offered, she asked, “Would you like to take a look under the hood?”

“Hell, yeah.”

She had to laugh at the look on his face. “You look like a kid on Christmas.”

“It’s not every day I come across an opportunity like this.” The dark undercurrent of the statement and his piercing green stare made it clear he referred to more than a fancy sports car.

Oh God. He feels it, too.

Alexa should have been freaked out. Alone with a stranger, on a deserted stretch of highway, in the mountains far from the city, sounded like an unwise situation to put herself in. She should be nervous but a remarkable calm surrounded her instead. In fact, she just now realized she’d stopped on the side of the road without a second thought to safety. Today, she threw caution to the wind. The chemical reaction between them affected her like a drug.