Taboo Kisses (4 page)

“Maddox,” I murmured weakly. “Maddox.” Managing to lift my head a few inches, I scanned the area, blood dripping into my eye.

There. Under the Cruiser, wedged between the rear tire and the boulder. Blood leaked from his shattered helmet. His legs twisted at odd angles. Fingers twitched. He was alive!

“Maddox.” Pushing myself on my elbows, I crawled forward one painful inch at a time. Pain stabbed my shoulder. Out of breath, weak, I gave up.

I focused on the sign of life, his twitching fingers.

Call an ambulance. Get help. Where was my phone? In the inside pocket of my jacket, I remembered. Could I reach it? Twisting my body to the side, I fumbled and found the phone. Only three numbers to dial. 9.1.1. Done.

“Maddox?” His fingers no longer moved. My heart shattered.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s my fault my fault my fault
….

***

“He died at the scene,” I told Ryder and broke into sobs against his chest. “The next thing I remember…waking up in the hospital…broken arm…clavicle…nasty gash in my shoulder.”

Ryder reached into the glove compartment and handed me a battered box of tissues. He kissed the top of my head while I wiped my nose. “Forgive yourself, Jacinda. He would.”

“Would he?”

“Yes. He loved your spirit. He loved the fact you weren’t afraid, that you took risks. He told me stuff sometimes, you know.”

“Really?” I said, picturing them sitting around and chatting about me. “I was reckless. I killed him.” There, finally, the words I’d never said aloud.

“Do you still want to go home? I’ll take you now if you want.”

Did I? No. His hand reached for mine. I took it, his strong fingers closing over my own. The second we touched, the noise in my head stopped. No more crumpling metal, shrieking tires, or screams. Just the birds, the wind-rustle of the trees drifting in through the rolled-down windows.

“Get your bike off the trailer,” I said, my voice shaking a little.

While Ryder took care of the bike, I put on the helmet and waited. This wasn’t his racing motocross, but his very first dirt bike, the one he used to go trail riding with his friends. The red and yellow frame bore the scratches of innumerable falls, missed wheelies, and failed jumps.

“There are lots of trails through these woods.” He grabbed a couple of bags from the back of the pickup and lashed them securely to the bike.

“Can I ask about the contents?”

“No,” he said slyly.

Hmmm, now curiosity nibbled at me.

Gingerly, I mounted behind him. My limbs shook, and I breathed deeply. I expected flashbacks, but they didn’t come. The memories settled to the depths of my mind, the way a dead body eventually sinks to the bottom of the ocean. I felt okay. So far. Ryder took off down the nearest path, and I clung to his back, more out of comfort than necessity. We bounced along the path, Ryder driving so slowly I could probably have jumped off and jogged ahead of him. Half an hour later, we came to a clearing by a crystalline lake where wildflowers dotted the landscape. Ryder parked the bike under the shade of a few oak trees.

“How was the ride?” Worry etched his features.

I removed the helmet, letting it dangle from a handlebar. “Better than I expected. Thanks for being so understanding.”

“You’re worth it.”

Damn, he was so sweet, sweet enough to eat. I stepped up to him, wrapped my arms around his neck and indulged in a long, appreciative kiss, tugging his T-shirt out of his jeans. “You don’t need this, do you?”

He pulled it over his head and tossed it over the handlebars. “Not if you say I don’t. Is there anything else I should get rid of?”

“Not at the moment.” I slipped my fingers through the belt loops in his jeans. “There will be later, though.”

“Help me set up camp,” he said, grinning widely.

While he started a campfire, I rooted through the contents of the bags, my stomach growling. Hot dogs, buns, salt and vinegar chips, baby dill pickles, two vodka coolers, and a few bottles of water. I scrounged around some more. “Giant marshmallows! I love these.”

“I remembered.”

In no time at all we were sitting on blankets by a crackling campfire, drinking our coolers and roasting hot dogs.

“I come here sometimes when I need to think.” Ryder spurted ketchup on his dog and took a bite.

“What do you think about?”

“How different I am now from what I used to be. How hard it was to make the change, to be more responsible and quit hanging around with the wrong people.”

“Your Mom helped a lot, didn’t she?”

He nodded. “For a while, when I stared out over the lake, all I thought about was you, how beautiful you were, how unattainable. I still can’t believe you agreed to come with me. I was sure you’d say no.”

“You were confident. It would have been hard to say no. I’m glad I agreed. It’s so beautiful here.”

Since we arrived, I’d only heard the distant whine of a few dirt bikes. We ate in silence as I gazed appreciatively at his chest, at the shadows dappling his abs, his pecs, the web of veins along his forearms. He finished wolfing down his hot dog and washed it down with the last of his cooler. Then he ripped into the bag of marshmallows, impaled one on a stick and held it over the fire. The mega-sized marshmallow turned golden brown.

Our eyes met. The air crackled with electricity. I took off my top, slowly, one sleeve at a time. Underneath, I wore a black lace bra. Not exactly the kind of thing a lady usually wore to a picnic, but on this occasion, I thought the choice was a good one.

Ryder stared, oblivious that his marshmallow had just plopped into the fire.

Yes, I’d made an excellent choice. “More?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah.” His eyes never leaving my breasts, he sat closer, reached behind me and unhooked my bra with one hand.

Good move. The boy had skills. I slipped the bra off my shoulders and dropped it at the edge of the blanket. Need stirred inside me, and my breath came in short pants. I kneeled, and he did the same, holding me close, crushing my breasts against his chest. I planted a kiss on his throat, soft as a petal. He responded immediately, his mouth over mine, wild and passionate. Eager hands explored my breasts, cupping and squeezing. Thumbs flicked my nipples, and I gasped. I pulled off my hair band, freeing my long mane.

“Like silk,” he said in awe, his hand diving in. “All those nights I fantasized about running my fingers through your hair. It’s finally coming true.”

My finger paused over the button on his jeans. Ryder’s eyes drifted down my body once again. Everywhere his eyes rested, I flared with sudden heat. I hadn’t responded this way since Maddox—

I hitched in a breath. What would Maddox want?

What do you want, Jacinda
?
This is the question you should be asking
.

And that was the crux of it. The little voice in my head was really my conscience, not Maddox at all. Just me. Me punishing myself.

I forgive you
, I heard him say, and his presence vanished.

After a year, it was time to stop looking over my shoulder, and time to forge ahead.

“I want you.” One sharp jerk on the button. It popped. I rubbed the bulge in his pants and lowered his zipper. Reaching in, I freed his cock, grasping its thickness while Ryder closed his eyes, buried his head in my neck, and thrust his hips forward.

Ryder stood up to remove his jeans, kicking them off along with his sneakers and socks.

“My turn?” I asked, removing my not-so-sexy hiking shoes.

“I want to watch.” His pupils dilated.

“Sure, baby.” With a sexy sway of my hips, I stood, lowered my zipper, pulled down the jeans in a slinky move I’d practiced countless times, and tossed them aside. All that remained were my matching lace panties. I slipped them down my thighs, palms hugging my skin, until they reached my knees.

“Help me out?” I teased.

He reached for the panties, almost tearing them off. I quickly stepped out of them. Ryder got to his knees and buried his face in my mound, parting the fine golden hair and inhaling deeply. His tongue flicked, and I moaned. My clit swelled. My pussy grew slick and wet. As he sucked on the delicate nub, flashes of pleasure radiated through my core. I moaned, rocking my hips, pressing my clit against the warmth of his mouth. Once more, he inhaled my scent, taking a long, slow breath. Moist lips left a long trail of kisses up my belly. Grabbing my arms, he pulled me down next to him, and we rolled onto the blanket, his body heavy against mine. Still on top of me, he grabbed at his jeans, which were by the fire, and fumbled in the pocket until he found a condom.

“Are you sure?” he asked, unease on his face, holding up the square packet.

“Absolutely.”

His eyes lit up. Dimples appeared in his cheeks. Sexy. Cute.

Mine. Today, he belonged to me.

I touched his cock, long and hard, tracing the swollen veins on its surface. Over and over, I stroked, caressing him with my palms, and his hips thrust forward.

“Ready?” I asked.

“You know I am.”

I took the foil packet from him and tore it open, unrolling the condom along his length. Wet and ready, my pussy ached for him. My thighs locked around his waist, and I guided him into my damp folds. His cock filled me with delicious sensations, stroke after stroke going deep into my flesh. I kissed the hot arch of his throat and scraped my fingernails down his back.

Panting, wild with desire, I whispered into his ear. “Deeper.”

The next thrust came fast and hard, and I gasped. “More.”

Ryder kept up the rapid rhythm, exactly the way I liked it, and when he plunged deep, I arched my back and moaned. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. He breathed through his open mouth, features intense, his eyes staring into mine.

I didn’t think he’d last much longer, but I didn’t want him to slow down. The sensations were exquisite. His pace grew frenzied. His flesh slapped against mine, and suddenly he grew still, shuddering, as he came. Spent, he lay against me, still inside me, touching my hair.

“That was amazing.” I nuzzled his cheek.

“But you didn’t have an orgasm,” he said.

“I can’t this way. It’s okay. Relax.” Orgasms often eluded me. Over the years, I’d learned to appreciate the entrée and the main course, knowing I seldom managed to taste dessert.

“It’s not okay. Teach me how to please you. I want you to come,” he said. “How about oral?”

Damn, he’s eager
. Shivers ran down my neck. “Oral won’t work. It feels great, but no orgasm,” I whispered. “You said you were good with your hands. Let’s see how good.”

He pulled out of me and disposed of the condom as I straightened the blanket. I lay on my back and he lay on his side, leaning against his elbow. Taking his hand in mine, I placed the tips of his fingers on my mound, right over my clit, and made smooth circular motions. “Like this.”

“Like this?” Ryder continued without my guidance.

I nodded, closing my eyes, enjoying the feel of his warm body against mine. The cool late afternoon breeze tousled my hair.

“Yes. Keep going,” I whispered. “Kiss me.”

His lips were gentle, soft, moist. I curled my fingers into his hair. He kissed my neck, starting beneath my chin, all the way to the hollow of my throat. My clit throbbed. Pleasure mounted and mounted. It reached a crescendo, like a beautiful song whose notes reached higher and higher until they couldn’t go higher anymore. I was close. So close. My muscles tensed. I bit my lip and arched my back.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” I guided his hand, adding pressure to exactly the right spot. The sensation intensified until a violent rush of fire overwhelmed my body. With each move of his fingers, the orgasm intensified. “Yes!” Keeping my hand over his, I rejoiced in the pulsing heat that rushed over me in waves. Stronger. Stronger. The breath caught in my throat. The waves began to decrease in intensity, becoming more subdued, yet still immensely pleasurable.

Panting, we stayed on the blanket, tangled in each other’s arms, the wind whispering around us. “You’ve given me a new reason to love campfires by a lake.”

“Did I?” He seemed awfully pleased with himself.

Hell, he should be. He’d helped me achieve the Big O, and he’d barely broken a sweat. “You have a gift with your hands, Ryder. I mean it.” I kissed his fingers, which smelled of my musk.

“Does that mean we continue to see each other?” he asked hopefully.

The question I’d hoped to avoid, because there were so many possible ramifications. “Common sense dictates we shouldn’t. What if Gemma finds out? Or Lorena? But….” I paused, thinking as I stroked his hair. “We’re good together.”

“We’re good?” He kissed my fingers.

“We’re good,” I said. “But remember what I said about a secret?”

“Yes. We’ll be discreet.”

“You make it sound simple.”

“It is.” He shrugged.

Men, so blissfully unaware of life’s everyday complications. In some ways, I envied them. Only in some ways. “We weren’t careful today.”

“It was only bungee-jumping. Did you see anybody you knew?”

“No.”

“Neither did I.” He kissed my forehead. His tone lightened. “If it makes you feel any better, all our secret visits can take place at night. You can swing by my place in your car, stuff me in the trunk and take me to a secret rendezvous in an abandoned cabin in the woods. How’s that?”

I giggled. “You know what’s going to happen, don’t you?”

“We’re going to have lots more great sex?”

I laughed. “In addition to having fantastic sex.”

“No idea. Tell me.”

I hated saying it, but it was the truth. “One of these days, a sweet girl is going to walk into your lingerie shop, and you’ll fall madly in love with her.”

“And one of these days you’re going to find a man who can give you what Maddox gave you. What you and I have is temporary. I know. But I’m not going to spend time thinking about it. Let’s live in the present.”

“Wise words.” I traced the line of his jaw.

“There’s no point in talking about how short our fling might be,” he said. “Or how long. Maybe this sweet girl you mentioned won’t show up until next year.”