Rising Heat (13 page)

I thought at this point that she might break away, but she didn’t. She made little squeaking noises that caused my cock to throb and surge against the constriction of my jeans every time I heard it. Her hands roamed over my back, my waist, and then, as my fingers found the bottom of her bra and lifted it over her breast, cupping that warm mound of flesh against my hand, another moan escaped her throat. Blood pounded through my body. My ears rang. When her hand explored my crotch, and then pressed against my length, I nearly lost it.

I was startled by my reaction to her. I wasn’t a virgin kid in high school groping a girl for the first time. I considered myself experienced; one who remained in control at all times, not only mentally, but physically. None of that control was evident as I sat on that picnic bench, necking with pet store assistant manager Kathy Mason in broad daylight, in view of anyone who happened to drive by.

The thought was as effective as a bucket of water thrown over my head. Reluctantly, extremely reluctantly, I broke off the embrace. My desire was hot, and I wanted nothing more than to plunge my cock deep into her, but now was neither the time nor the place. For a second, she looked up at me in startled dismay, but then she too must’ve realized where we were and what we were doing. Another adorable flush darkened her cheeks. She tried to scramble off my lap, but I didn’t let her.

I removed my hand from her breast, gently pulled her bra back down, and removed my hand from underneath her t-shirt, making sure that she was covered before I once again placed it against her rib cage.

“Who are you, Kathy Mason?” I asked. “How is it that you have such an impact on me?”

She stared at me for several seconds before she answered.

“In what way is that, Mr. Ash Bascom?”

I crotch bumped her and her eyes widened. “I’m sure you can feel for yourself.” I grinned. “Unfortunately, and even though I would like to, I can’t pull your clothes off, lay you down on this picnic table, and make wild, passionate love to you.”

“Why not?”

My eyes widened in astonishment, but perhaps it was that very reaction she was looking for. She suddenly laughed and scrambled off my lap.

“I was just kidding, Ash,” she admitted. She ran her fingers through her hair, made sure that her clothes were where they were supposed to be, then stared down at me, her expression looking almost confused.

Her eyes gazed down at my crotch where my hard-on was still very much in evidence. She tilted her head slightly and grinned. “I must admit that you have much of the same impact on me too.”

I stood up and moved closer to her, tracing my fingertips down her arm. She shivered, and I smiled. “What do you think we should do about that?”

Kathy

W
hat had gotten into me?

Okay, bottom line, I know what I
wanted
to get into me. And I know what I
still
wanted to get into me. But seriously, on the second… no, first… no, second date? Was I really so easy that I’d let a guy I barely knew grope me out in public?

Apparently, yes.

And if he hadn’t stopped us, I apparently would have let him go much further.

God knows I’d wanted him to. I wanted him to strip me naked. I wanted to lay flat on my back on that picnic table, never mind the splinters I would probably get in my ass. I wanted to spread my legs and have him plunge that long, thick cock of his right into the center of my being.

Heat rushed to my face as I asked myself again,
Kathy Mason, what in heaven’s name has gotten into you?

Then I realized that Ash was speaking to me. I blinked. “What? Sorry, can you repeat that?”

He smiled just enough that a dimple showed. “I asked if you were okay. I’m not going to apologize for what happened, but I am sorry that I didn’t show a little more control, especially in such a public place.”

I looked around. We were on a turnout in the foothills. I had yet to see one car drive by, but I supposed I should be grateful for that. Below us, hundreds of miles of open prairie extended far to the east, to the horizon. To the north and south, behind my back, the mountains rose above us. We seemed to be in a pretty private location unless somebody was hidden somewhere in the trees with a pair of binoculars or a telescope. That seemed unlikely. Still, he was right. I would’ve been mortified if someone had driven by and honked their horn or pulled into the turnout picnic area and simply stared at us. Would I have noticed? I doubted it.

The minute Ash touched me, everything else was pushed from my mind. My uncertainties, my inexplicable attraction to the biker, even my concern that this was not a relationship I should be pursuing. So a bit self-consciously… no, a
lot
self-consciously, I pulled my gaze from Ash and turned to look at the highway. No one coming in either direction.

My eyes riveted to his bike. His Harley. Once again I told myself he wasn’t my type. I wasn’t his. At least I didn’t think so. Here I was, at the top of a mountain with the type of guy I’d avoided all through school. The bad boy. The stoners who clustered behind the gym or under the bleachers sneaking a cigarette or even smoking pot. The ones who had the reputation of sleeping with anyone — no questions asked, no obligations.

I stared at his motorcycle for several moments and then glanced at him again. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

He offered a half shrug. “Depends.”

“I can see a guy riding a motorcycle year-round in a place like Southern California. But here? In Denver? I have to admit that it doesn’t make an awful lot of sense.”

“And that’s a question?”

He didn’t say it with any attitude, more like amusement. Standing a short distance away from him, assessing him, I got the impression that he was much more complicated than I first thought. Secretive almost. But I’m the curious sort, and my thoughts roamed to a different question. “Those guys cruising the street the other day. They knew you, didn’t they?”

He didn’t answer.

I came right out and asked him, although I hesitated. Did I want him to tell me the truth? Did I really want to know? I scolded myself. I’d better know, especially here, alone, fighting the magnetic draw that seemed to pull us together.

“Ash, do you belong to a motorcycle gang?”

He hesitated only briefly. “I used to, but I’m out now, trying to make better choices in my life.”

I swallowed and forced myself to meet his eyes. “So you
did
know those guys!” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Alarm, hesitance, and dammit, a bit of attraction.

“Not personally,” he said, staring out into the distance toward downtown Denver.

I glanced at the road. We were alone up here. I was alone up here with a guy who used to belong to a motorcycle gang. “How long?”

“How long what?”

He sat casually, his legs sprawled, his back and arms once again leaning against the picnic table. While I couldn’t tell from where I was standing, I didn’t think he had a hard-on anymore. He also didn’t seem angry at my questions. Or annoyed. Although this clearly wasn’t his favorite subject of conversation, he was talking.

“How long have you been out of the gang and how long were you in it?”

“I left the gang a few weeks ago. How long was I in? I don’t know, a couple of years.”

I strode around the picnic table, gazing out into the distance as he was. The atmosphere up here seemed so peaceful, so calm and serene, the opposite of what I was feeling now. I wanted to understand. “Why did you join the gang in the first place?”

“It’s a long story, Kathy.”

“I don’t have anything to do.”

He sat quietly for several minutes. I was beginning to think that he wasn’t going to answer my question at all when he shifted his position and turned to look at me.

“Let’s just say there were some family issues. I felt like I needed to get away. To rebel. So, I bought a motorcycle and just began riding. Into the sunset, you might say. The more miles I put behind me, I don’t know, the freer I felt. I ended up in Denver a couple of months later. Winter was coming, and this seemed like a good place to stay for a little while.”

I stared at him in amazement. It had been a big jump for me to move from Southern California to Denver. It’d also taken me quite a bit of time to come up with the money to do so. Security deposits, first and last month’s rent, knowing that I would have to make the money last until I found a job, and it would still be tight and nerve-wracking. And he had, what? Just jumped on his bike and headed west?

I half-laughed. “You rich or something?” I joked. “You can just take off and cruise the roads for months at a time? You have a loft in downtown Denver. I know those aren’t cheap. How did you—?” I broke off as a horrible thought hit me. “Please don’t tell me you’re a drug dealer.” The words ripped from my throat, and I took a step back.

Oh my God. Was he a criminal? Is that how he made his money? Is that how he could afford such a huge loft space in LoDo? He saw my sudden alarm. The way I was adding two and two. He stood, arms extended to his sides.

“Kathy, I promise, I’m not a drug dealer. I’m not a criminal. That’s one of the reasons I left the gang. They were starting to get involved in things I didn’t want to be involved with. You can believe me.”

“Why should I?” Had I just made a huge mistake? Did I just put myself in a dangerous situation?

“Because it’s the truth,” he said simply.

“So where did you get the money? To stay on the road so long, to not work in all that time? To have a loft in LoDo? Heaven knows I scrimp and save just to live in my crappy little apartment. I have to work two jobs. You’ve just been bumming around for what, a couple of
years?”

He ran a hand through his hair as he glanced out over the trees, the toe of one of his boots scuffing the dirt as if he was trying to decide something. “I had some money put away.” He didn’t look at me. “These are kind of personal questions, Kathy. Do you really think we’re at the point where you should be asking them?”

“Ash, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but I have to be honest. I don’t normally… what I’m trying to say is that I don’t…”

“You don’t usually go out with guys like me.”

“It’s nothing against you personally,” I quickly sought to explain. “It’s just that I’ve never been around… I never knew anybody who used to belong to a motorcycle gang. I’m not sure what to think. To be blunt, it scares me a little. I had a feeling you weren’t exactly, well, ultraconservative, riding around on a bike like that, and I’m not trying to fit a round peg into a square hole, but…”

I sighed. I was fumbling with my words. Wasn’t making myself clear. I wasn’t even sure what I was trying to say. I didn’t like the fact that he used to belong to a gang, but he was right, this was way too early in our relationship for this conversation. But when was the right time? Six months down the road? I’d rather know now.

“I’d just like to know where I stand before I get involved with anyone. You can understand that, can’t you?”

He shrugged. “Sure. But is that what we are? Involved?”

I turned to him and made a face. “Okay, I’m laying my cards out on the table. Since the moment I first saw you at your loft, fish tank in hand, I was attracted. We had coffee. I accepted this invitation for a ride and a bite to eat.” I felt my face flush again as I gestured toward the picnic table. “I’m attracted to you. Obviously.” I turned to stare at his shiny chrome mufflers. “None of my past relationships have worked out that well, Ash. I’m just not sure if I want to get involved in another one. Especially not now. I’m so busy with school, with two jobs… where would you fit in?”

The minute I said that, I realized it sounded horrible. “Wait, I didn’t mean that to come out the way it did—”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I understand what you’re trying to say. And I appreciate your candor. But this is just what it is. Two people getting to know each other a little better. It’s not like I’m demanding any promises from you or even expecting anything. I’ll be blunt too. I like you. You’re different. And yes, I’m attracted to you too.” He glanced down at his crotch and smirked. “But it doesn’t mean anything unless you want it to. You get what I’m saying? No pressure. Let’s just hang out and have some fun.”

I thought about what he said. It sounded feasible, but I still wasn’t quite sure. “Are you sure you haven’t—”

I was interrupted by the sound of rumbling. Rumbling engines. Motorcycle engines. Before I even saw the bikes top the rise and come around the side of the mountain, the noise echoed off the hills, sending the squirrels running for cover, and bringing back the scent of skunk on the breeze.

I froze. By the time the first bike came into view, Ash had risen from the bench and moved to stand in front of me. I peeked around him to see the first bike appear, and then another, and another. I counted five. They didn’t drive past the turnout. They pulled in.

I glanced up at Ash, but he didn’t seem worried. Or intimidated. He stood with his feet slightly apart, arms crossed over his chest, just eyeing the group as they pulled to the far side of the turnout and sat there. Watching Ash. Watching us. No one moved. It was like some kind of stupid staring contest. I tried not to look afraid, but there’s no use lying. I was about ready to piss my pants.

Those guys looked
mean.
I saw one glance at me and make a kissing motion with his lips. Ash stiffened and began to walk toward them.

“Ash?”

“It’s all right,” he said, strolling over to the bikes. I stood right where I was and crossed my arms over my chest too, but only to hide my shaking hands. I didn’t like this. Not one bit. The fact that Ash seemed to know them didn’t make me feel any better.

I watched as Ash reached the first rider. Said something to him. The guy smirked up at him. He had a scraggly beard, a black bandana wrapped around his forehead holding equally scraggly brown hair out of his face. They exchanged words. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the look on the biker’s faces wasn’t hard to translate. Scowls. Smirks. A testosterone-fest.