Taboo Kisses (2 page)

He placed one hand on my waist. My bare skin quivered. He waited a few seconds, maybe to see if I’d pull away, and cupped my chin. “You’re the one I want,” he whispered before his mouth closed over mine, tentative, searching, experimenting. And I didn’t slip away. I yielded. His touch was intoxicating, and as his fingers trailed down my back, we kissed under the purple sky.

I came to my senses and pulled back with a gasp. “This is wrong.”

Spinning on my heel, I hurried to the house I’d shared with Maddox for the past nineteen years, the house where we’d raised Gemma. Together. When we’d gotten married, I could only think of three words: happily ever after.

How could I let a twenty-year-old threaten a lifetime of passion and commitment?

Because as much as I loved Maddox, there was something about the touch of someone new, the intensity of it, where you became drunk on each other’s presence, on a word, or a glance. Ryder set fire to my blood. This was infatuation. And I had to make it go away. I shook myself free of the memory.

Ryder unlocked the door of the changing room and ushered me in. “If you need anything, let me know.”

The changing room had mirrors on every wall, in addition to a red velvet bench along one side, soft carpet, and plenty of hooks to hang your clothes. Best of all, Lorena had selected lighting that complemented a woman’s figure instead of making her cringe. I stripped off my top and bra, wondering if Ryder could hear me shimmy out of my jeans.

Since I’d already decided to buy the outfit, I took off my panties and slipped on the thong, a tiny triangle of fabric held together with spaghetti straps. My ass looked damn good, if I dared say so myself.

Squeezing into a bustier was no easy feat. Damn those eyelets. Good thing I didn’t pick one that laced up. I’d never be able to get one of those on. To see what I was doing, I positioned the eyelets at the front and hooked them one at a time. Halfway up, I realized it would be so tight I wouldn’t be able to turn the thing around without scraping off a nipple.

Help
.

“Everything okay?” Ryder called.

He sounded awfully close to the door. “Ummm….”

“Those bustiers are a challenge.”

I can’t believe a man is telling me this
. I unhooked two eyelets to twist the whole thing around.
Okay, Maddox, can I go through with it
?

No response. I felt as if I were pitching stones into a dark well, waiting to hear them hit the bottom, but they never did. Maybe he was punishing me. As if I didn’t do enough of that on my own.

I’m sorry, Maddox
. Knowing I’d have to deal with a truckload of recriminations later, I opened the door, grabbed Ryder by the arm and pulled him inside.

“Close the door,” I said eagerly, aware of my quick, shallow breaths.

The door clicked shut, giving us complete privacy. Ryder stood inches away, so tantalizingly close. So tempting. A smile twitched at the corner of my mouth. “Do you believe in good customer service?”

“Absolutely.” He stared at my ass in the mirror behind me. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make a buyer happy.”

“Do you believe the customer is always right?” I asked, trailing a finger down his chest.

“One hundred and ten percent of the time.”

“Excellent answers. Now stop ogling my ass.”

“I’m not ogling. I’m admiring.”

Holding my long blonde hair off my neck, I turned around. In the mirror, I saw his goofy I-love-this-job smile. “Do me up.”

“Do you
up
? I was hoping to hear the word
down
in there somewhere.”

“I’ve heard better lines. But I’ll give you credit for not saying, ‘I’d love to just
do you
.’”

Tension heated the room. As the last eyelet clicked into place, my breasts swelled, exposing maximum cleavage.

Letting my hair cascade around my shoulders, I turned around. “Well?” His expression told me everything I needed to know.

“You’re a knock-out. Beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I said coyly. “I bet you say that to all the women who walk in here.”

“I do. But when I say it to you, I mean it.”

It felt great to flirt again after all this time.

Ryder wanted me. Badly. Need came off him in waves. He was like a runner in the starting blocks, waiting for the gun to go off. If I felt like it, I could pin him against the wall, undress him, and take him right here. He wanted me to. I sensed it. He was just waiting for me to give him the okay.

“Let’s go out sometime,” he said eagerly, raising his hand and easing it into my hair. “Stop watching life from the sidelines and experience it like you used to.”

Go out? Like a date? In public? “Are you serious?”
Are you totally insane
?

“Why not? Besides, if you refuse,” he said, “I’ll get your number off my mom’s phone and call you anyway.”

He’d do it too. “Ummm.”

“I’ll keep calling, over and over again. Until you finally answer.”

I arched my brows. Persistence was a trait I admired.

“Until you give in,” he said, looking awfully cocky.

“I’m not a pushover.”

“You’re a challenge. I’m always up for a challenge.”

Damn, this little room was heating up. “Let me think.” Stalling, I crossed my arms, resulting in even more pronounced cleavage.

He inhaled deeply. “While you’re thinking, can I help you out of your lingerie?”

“You’ve had enough eye candy for one day.” My very own boy toy. It sounded sinful. And sensational.
Sin
sational. I grinned. For now, I’d gone far enough. “I’ll buy the lingerie. Ring it up for me.”

“While we’re on the topic of what’s best for the customer, a pair of black fishnet stockings would complement the crimson quite well.” He glanced at my bare legs.

Might as well swallow the bait. “I suppose you want me to model them for you too?”

“It’s always best to try on an item before buying it.”

“Not today.” I touched his lips with my index finger, tracing their fullness, their softness. “But I can do my part to help you pay off the repairs to your mother’s car. I’ll take two pairs of fishnets. Can you pick out the right size for me while I change?”

“Of course.” After taking a last lingering look at my cleavage, he left the room.

Chapter Two

As I relaxed on my bed in my new matching bustier and thong, a box of chocolates on my night table, and a book about climbing Mount Everest in my hand, my cell beeped for the tenth time. Or maybe the eleventh. I checked the number.

Ryder. I popped another creamy caramel into my mouth.

Why did I pull Ryder into the changing room? Now a war raged between my loyalty to my husband and a passion for a guy barely out of his teens.

What if Lorena found out? Hell, she might be happy if her son had a fling with someone responsible for a change. Or I might lose her as a friend.

What about Gemma?

My heart stuttered. The day after our kiss, Ryder broke up with her. It took months of moping, and lots of there-are-plenty-more-fish-in-the-sea talks, before Gemma found the heart to date another guy. If she found out, she’d feel crushed, angry, betrayed, and that was putting it mildly.

Dammit. What do I do
?

Why couldn’t I allow myself to move on, to have a fling, to reconnect with the fun-loving part of myself?

Guilt shadowed me during the day, frowning at me while I slaved over my Mac at the office, and at night it lay under the covers with me, a thorny burden that never, ever went away.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed the phone and read the series of messages.

“I know the perfect place for you to get your wings back. I’ll teach you how to fly again. Call me.”

Nothing risky, thanks. I’d get my thrills vicariously from now on, by reading crime novels and watching documentaries on the Discovery Channel.

“No one needs to know. You. Me. A campfire by the lake.”

I loved campfires, sitting by the water, listening to the hiss and crackle of the flames. Did I want to pursue this fantasy?

Yes
.

Cramming the spiny ball of guilt into a huge box and padlocking it shut, I dialed his number. He picked up on the second ring.

“Can you keep this to yourself?” I asked without bothering to say hello. “You won’t tell anyone?”

“I swear.”

“Have you heard of the saying, ‘Three people can keep a secret, if two of them are dead’?”

“No, but I understand your point.” He chuckled. “There’s one place I need to take you where there are people around, though. We’ll keep it platonic. No worries.”

“No one can find out,” I insisted. The contents of the box fought to break free. Gemma. Maddox. The accident. The padlock strained, metal groaned, but the lid stayed shut.

“We’ll keep it casual. I want to take you on an adventure.”

“No romance.” Not yet. I needed more time. The old me would have shouted
carpe diem
and snatched this opportunity without a second thought. The new me was sitting home alone on a Friday night with a box of chocolates for company. “When and where?”

“Tomorrow. Two o’clock. Parking lot behind the mall on Fisher Avenue. Don’t dress up. Wear jeans. How about the sexy pair you had on yesterday?”

“We’ll see,” I said in a teasing tone, and hung up.

***

I drove my green Ford hybrid into a deserted section of the parking lot, scanning the area for Ryder. What did he drive these days?

A glance to the left answered my question. A monstrosity. If this was the only set of wheels he owned, no wonder he borrowed his mother’s convertible to show off for a girl. The ugly-ass pickup, at least a decade old, was being eaten alive by patches of rust. The pickup hauled an equally rust-flecked trailer with Ryder’s dirt bike on board. Hair flying in the wind, Ryder sat on the trailer, long legs dangling off the side.

The sight of the bike triggered an avalanche of memories, sliding toward me at breathtaking speed, threatening to sweep me into the past, back to Maddox and the motorcycle down the stretch of lonely highway. No, no, no. Not now.

“Our transportation?” I asked, walking toward him.

He waved an arm at the truck. “I call her Sammy Jo. She’ll be taking you to an undisclosed location.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said this wouldn’t be romantic.”

“Hey, you were against romance.” He put a hand to his heart as if I’d injured him. “Completely anti-romance. This is the most unromantic vehicle on the streets today.” He pushed himself off the side of the trailer and landed in front of me. “I aim to please, Jacinda.”

Laughter bubbled out of me. I examined the dents in the tailgate. It looked like someone had taken their frustrations out on it with a sledgehammer.

“Ex-girlfriend,” he said. “Long story. I heard she’s almost done with her anger management classes.”

“There’s nothing boring about your life, is there?”

“Boring and I don’t get along very well.” He opened the passenger door. “After today, there won’t be anything boring about your life either.”

He sounded so sure of himself. Some of his confidence better rub off on me, because right now I was a little skeptical about whatever he had planned. But being near him again ignited a flame inside me.

I climbed into the front seat, where bits of foam protruded from a long tear. “Another ex-girlfriend?”

He grinned. “Got careless with a box cutter.”

Ryder got in, turned the key, and I waited for the engine to utter a few hoarse coughs and die. Surprisingly, it rumbled to life and we were off.

“You must be quite a mechanic if you can keep this thing running.”

For a brief moment, he rested his palm on my thigh. “I’m good with my hands.”

“Are you now?”

“If you like, I can show you how good.”

Damn, he was brazen. I liked it. He said it all with a crazy grin on his face, so I could only take him half-seriously.

“Of course, I’d also like to say that if you’re not satisfied with my technique, if you feel there’s room for improvement, I’m more than willing to learn.”

“I’ll remember you said that.” Yum, potential. “I have a question for you.”

“Yes?”

“Whatever happened to our ‘no romance’ agreement?”

“Hey, a guy’s gotta try.”

I couldn’t fault him for that. “Okay, another question. In the changing room, why didn’t you make a move? I mean you flirted, but….”

“You were talking about Maddox, and it felt like the wrong time. Like I would have been taking advantage.”

Considerate of him. If he had tried to seduce me with another kiss, would I have told him to stop? “A lot of guys would have seized the opportunity.”

“With your hot body, damn right!” He kept both hands tightly on the wheel. “I know you need time. We can just hang out if you want. I just…I’ve always had a thing for you. Always.”

I wanted to touch him, but resisted. Why couldn’t I make up my mind about what I wanted?

We drove out of town, bumping along on a quiet country road bordered by recently shorn wheat fields. He turned on the radio. “Classical?”

“How did you know?” Gemma, of course.

“I have the rest of the day planned out.”

“You sound very enthusiastic. Can you give me details?”

“No. I want to surprise you.”

Smiling, I settled back into my seat. Ryder was a glass-is-always-full kinda guy, squeezing every last drop of pleasure out of life. Practically every day since Maddox died, when I returned home from work, I forced myself to cook a decent supper, watched National Geographic or Discovery, and went to bed. How dull. I’d become one of those armchair adventurers I despised.

“Pull over,” I said.

Ryder furrowed his brows, and I wanted to smooth the creases with a kiss. He seemed puzzled, but he signaled and pulled over to the side of the dirt road.

Total privacy. No one to spy on us or pass judgment. “Let’s suspend the no romance rule.”

For a moment, dimples appeared in his cheeks, as if he were a kid who’d been handed a box full of action figures. Adorable. I unbuckled my seatbelt and slid closer to him. Tentatively, I traced his ear, grasping the lobe between my thumb and index finger, pulling firmly until I heard his sharp intake of breath. Even though he’d shaved, his cheek had a rough, manly texture. I placed my thumb on the cleft in his chin. It probably bothered him when he dragged his razor across it. One of his lower teeth was a little crooked. I leaned over and kissed him. It felt better this time, not the forbidden kiss of before, but something I needed, craved—