Riding the Thunder - Deborah MacGillivray [111]
Jago came up and kissed her lightly on the mouth—a chili dog kiss—banishing Faulkner from her thoughts. “Sorry, my stomach rumbled and I had to comply.” His grin faded as concern flickered in his eyes. “You’re not going spacey on me again, are you?”
“Nope. Just lost in a moment of thought.” She snatched up one of the hot dogs smothered with the mouthwatering chili and pushed back the paper wrapper to take a bite.
“I prefer them with onions, but I have a hot date for later.” He kissed her again, his tongue finding chili at the corner of her mouth.“Like a boy scout, I’m always prepared.”
“Lucky me—a man who holds his end up,” Asha laughed.
He grinned. “You better believe it.”
Asha’s body rocked against Jago’s as he brought the Harley to a fast stop. Instead of climbing off, she just sat there hugging his warm back. She had to admit, while the bike still scared her, she enjoyed riding with Sexy Lips. There was something rather stimulating about being shoved up against his back, her arms around his waist. The low rumble of the powerful engine between her legs summoned images of no-holds-barred, ride-’em-cowboy sex. The vibration from the Electra Glide moved into her muscles and then lodge in her pelvis with a quiver.
Too smart by half, Jago’s chest shook from his soft laughter. “You feel it.”
She nodded her head and just hugged him tighter, loving him with her whole heart. Wanting desperately to tell him how much. The need to express her feelings was overpowering, yet something warned her Jago wasn’t ready to hear. This puzzled her. He was serious about her, so she didn’t understand why this last barrier remained between them. Oh, he never said anything; it was just the fey connection they shared, the closeness she recognized when they’d had breakfast at The Cliffside.
He set the stand on the bike and turned so he could pull her into his arms, kissing her slowly, with the sheer pleasure of just kissing. Finally pulling back, he smiled. “Chili dog kisses are addictive. You’re addictive. You know that, don’t you?”
She smiled as he got off the Harley. “I sure hope I am.”
Just inside the cottage, he paused and whispered, “Close your eyes and don’t move until I say you can.”
“Oooh . . . games?”
Clint the cat came to rub against her leg, meowing in complaint. She wasn’t sure if it was a rant about being left alone, or that his food bowl was empty.
Music filled the darkness as Jago turned on the CD player; a catchy tune about seeing a ‘UFO in the backyard’ filled the small cottage. Asha liked it, thinking it rather fitting for Halloween, but Jago muttered, “Oops” and hit another button, switching it to a soft ballad about love. The tune was the same one she’d heard at the glasshouse earlier.
“Colin let me borrow his Mike Duncan CD. I’m ordering a couple copies in the morning. This guy is going places.”
“Can I open my eyes now?” she asked.
“Nope.” She could hear him moving closer, felt the radiant heat of his very male body, then finally the scent that was Jago filled her head. He brushed his lips over one eyelid, then the other.“Tomorrow we have a lot of words to say, a lot of things to discuss. For the rest of the night we banish words, have no need of them. From this point on—don’t speak. Just experience how we communicate on an elemental level.”
“I don’t get to count?” She couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her lips.
His hands moved up the edge of her leather jacket and then very slowly peeled it off her shoulders, allowing it to drop to the floor. “Lass, I’m going to saturate your brain with me, with us, with sensations so devastating you won’t be able to count. Just let it happen.”
“I can do anything I want—I’m just not permitted to speak?”
He pulled her against his chest, lifting her slightly so he could feast on the side of her neck. “Hush, wench.”
He kissed her, so lightly, so reverently, she couldn’t stop tears from