Looking for Trouble

“Do you want a ride, Sophie?” Lauren asked. “Jake’s coming to pick me up.”

“No, it’s a beautiful night. I want to enjoy as much walking as I can before winter sets in.”

She said her goodbyes, her heart speeding a little at the small deception. Or maybe it was speeding with excitement, because it only beat faster as she stepped onto the boardwalk. If her friends were paying attention, they’d notice that she wasn’t heading toward her house, but she glanced through the window and saw that they were still chatting as they gathered purses and jackets. Sophie rushed up the block, not bothering to hide her smile.

Even during the slow season, a cacophony sounded from the Bucking Bronco when the door opened a few feet ahead of her. Country music played and people spoke loudly to be heard over it. The outdoor tables were abandoned for the evening, but past the windows, families with tired children ate ribs and steak and took the opportunity to get a little drunk.

When she stepped inside, she noticed the younger crowd at the bar, but she knew from experience that the music was even louder back there. Sophie ducked to the left and headed up the wide staircase.

The bar upstairs was smaller. They only served beer and wine and margaritas, but there were small tables around the bar here, and she and Alex would disappear from view behind the larger dining tables at the front.

Though Alex might have a hard time disappearing anywhere, she realized as she caught sight of his shaved head and walked toward him. He stood at the bar, looming over the few other people there. Sophie glanced around, but there was no one she knew here. There was better steak and cheaper beer to be had a few streets out of town.

Alex saw her and straightened. He didn’t smile, but the slight rise of his eyebrows as he looked her up and down conveyed approval. Sophie did smile. That man was a pleasure to look at. He’d shaved his face, and now his jaw and cheekbones were emphasized, giving him a lean and deadly look. He’d also shucked his leather jacket at some point, and there they were. Tattoos.

One arm was covered all the way down to his wrist with the vivid colors of a design she couldn’t make out from ten feet away. She did her best not to lunge at him like she was bringing down prey.

“Hi,” he said. “I didn’t know if you wanted to get a table.”

“That’d be great.”

He gestured toward the closest empty table, then reached past her to pull out the chair before she could sit. A gentleman. With tattoos.

He grabbed his jacket from a bar stool and slipped it over the back of the other chair. “What are you drinking?”

“White wine, please.”

He nodded as if he’d expected that and stepped back to the bar without another word. The order only took a moment to place, but she used that short time to study him from behind. His gray T-shirt hugged thick shoulders and revealed the delicious taper of his back down to his waist. Those ancient jeans showed off thick thighs and a delicious-looking ass. It all ended in lug-soled black boots that made her heart skip a little.

He was just so...masculine.

She looked away before he turned around with her wine and a bottle of beer, and Sophie folded her hands demurely on the table.

He still looked big when he sat down. She knew she couldn’t hide her stare, so she didn’t even bother. “I like your tattoos.”

His head drew back a little in surprise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Can I see this one?” She gestured toward his left arm.

He helpfully pulled his sleeve up to his shoulder.

“Wow,” she breathed.

Sophie wanted to reach out and touch, despite that she knew there’d be no texture. But the reds and blues and greens were so vivid, she imagined she’d feel something. It wasn’t just passive art. His arm was alive with it.

She’d never seen such deep colors on skin. Dark green pine trees rose up his biceps in stylized spikes outlined in black, but the tips disappeared into wisps of clouds. A bright blue river wound through the green and then down his thickly muscled forearm. It splashed between angled boulders of red and yellow and gray before the river tightened to a bright red ribbon that finally wound around his wrist.

“It’s really beautiful. It’s honestly the most beautiful tattoo I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks. An artist in California did it. He’s really amazing. He’s the only one I go to now.”

“And that?” she asked, tipping her head toward his right arm, where a raven was drawn in stark black lines that looked like slashes.

“An earlier work.”

“I like it, too. You’ve got nice taste.”

A small smile, finally. “Not as nice as you. You like pretty dresses.”

That surprised a laugh out of her. “I do. I like pretty things.”

“Like me,” he said drily.

“Oh, sure. You’re my pretty treat for the night.” Stop, she told herself as she watched his nostrils flare a little. Stop flirting. Just tell him the truth and leave.

But her mouth refused to obey. Instead of speaking up, it quirked a secret little smile at the way his gaze had intensified. Sophie reached for her wine. “How long are you in town, Alex?”

“Through the weekend,” he answered. “Not long.”

“The dedication ceremony?”

He looked surprised for a moment, then he seemed to remember how small Jackson was and nodded. “Yeah. I’ll ride on as soon as the damn thing is over.”

Now it was her turn to be surprised, but she wasn’t going to press him on this issue, that was certain. It wasn’t a topic she wanted to intrude on. “Where do you live?”

One of his big shoulders rose in a shrug. “Here and there. I’m on my way to Alaska next month.”

“Alaska?” she gasped. “In October? Isn’t it already freezing there by then?”

“Not quite, but the work doesn’t stop during the winter.”

“What sort of work?” Her pulse quickened at the thought of Alaska. She wanted to see it, so badly.

“I’m a groundwater engineer. I work as a contractor for oil companies. Making sure they’re not fucking things up.”

“Is that the official engineering term?”

Now his mouth relaxed into a real smile, and she was shocked at how sweet he looked. “Pretty much. It’s a rough-and-tumble engineering field. Not a lot of scientists stationed in the places I go.”

“Is it always Alaska?”

“Not always. I travel a lot.”

Sophie’s thoughts were swirling almost too fast to catch one. She had a thousand questions about Alaska and a thousand more about where else he went and the things he’d seen. She took a drink of wine and grabbed hold of one question. “Tell me what it’s like. Alaska. Is it...is it amazing?”

“It’s pretty amazing. What do you want to know?”

“Everything,” she breathed before she realized how odd and greedy it sounded. “I mean... Where do you go? Are there polar bears? Is it dangerous? Is it cold?”

He chuckled. “You look like a little girl right now, wide-eyed and sparkling.”

A blush hit her hard and fast, and she reached for her wine again, trying to think of a way to backtrack.

“It’s cold, at least where I go. And barren, if you can use that word for something usually covered in snow and ice. I’ve been to the fields in the summer, and it’s different then. Like a savanna, I guess. Mile after mile of grass and sun and flies. You see caribou everywhere then. Foxes. Even some wolves. It’s beautiful and quiet.”

“Wow,” she breathed, her skin tingling at the idea. Or maybe it was the wine.

“You want another?” he asked, gesturing toward the glass she realized she’d drained.

“Yes,” she answered quickly. He’d barely touched his beer, but she didn’t care. Her buzz was pushed on by her excited pulse, and she felt deliciously alive.

Alex rose to get her another glass, and she realized her mistake then and almost grabbed his wrist to make him sit and keep talking. Thankfully, he was back within moments.

“And in the winter?” she pressed before he’d even sat down.

“In the winter, it’s cold and dark. It’s eerie, knowing you’re so far from anyone or anything. And it’s not so quiet. The wind blows day and night when it kicks up. When you’re inside, it sounds like you’re on a ship, and not a steady one.”

“Can you see the northern lights?”

“They’re pretty bright there in the winter.”

“That is so cool,” she murmured, not realizing she’d touched his arm until he looked down. She looked down, too. Her fingertips rested on a swirl of red ink. She let them linger for a moment, then let them whisper over the bright color until her touch slipped off his wrist.

“So it’s out on the tundra?” she asked, her voice slightly fainter than before. A heartbeat passed before he spoke.

“It is. Nothing but wild animals and crazy men out there.”

“You help drill for oil?”

“No, I’m there to piss people off. I do testing and make sure they’re obeying regulations.”

“And do they?”

He smiled. “They try. When there are eyes on them, at least.”

He looked like he’d fit in perfectly out there in a harsh land with rough men. “How long will you stay there?”

“For this gig, only three weeks. Sometimes I go for a week, sometimes six months.”

“Six months,” she murmured, trying to imagine that. Of living somewhere entirely new and knowing you’d be moving on soon. Everyone you saw would be a new person, a stranger. Every drive or hike or walk a new experience. Her skin prickled and she licked her lips. Physical and emotional desire twisted inside her and swelled.

She’d only ever lived in Jackson, really. She’d done most of her college work online, then gone to Laramie for her senior year to complete the courses she couldn’t take long-distance. Aside from a two-year monthly commute to Salt Lake City to get her MS in Library Science, she’d been at home. She had obligations here. People she couldn’t leave behind. She was connected. To her father and her brother. Even to her great-uncle, who’d asked her to rent his house until he could get out of the convalescent home. He didn’t want strangers living in his place, and no one had the heart to tell him that he wasn’t ever going to be able to live on his own again.

No, she had too many ties here. She couldn’t do it. Yet. But Alex was oozing adventure out of his pores.

“You should go sometime,” he said, as if he’d read her thoughts.

“Maybe.” Maybe she would. Maybe she’d drive up all the way through Canada. Or fly to Seattle and then work her way up the coastline on ferries, only staying in each town for a few days.

“Not very many single women up there. Assuming you’re single.”

She smiled and glanced up at him. “Would I be here with you if I weren’t?”

“I’m not sure. You did want to keep it quiet.”

“I did.” This was her chance. Thank him for the drinks. Tell him the truth. Apologize for any misunderstanding on his part. But she wanted more of his deep voice dragging along her nerve endings. More of his stories. She even wanted more of his painted skin under her fingertips. Just a tiny bit more. A touch.

“Am I still a stranger?” he asked.

Sophie’s skin prickled again and her nipples slowly tightened. That question promised something. Some dark and dangerous prize if she answered it correctly. She let her hand move closer to his arm and then followed that same swirl of red back up his wrist. This time she let her fingers climb just a little bit higher.

“Oh,” she said as she touched him, “you’re definitely a stranger.”

“Does that mean I can’t talk you into a ride?”

She dragged the pads of her fingers across a yellow stroke of ink. “I don’t know.”

When she looked up, she found him staring at her. Hard. His brows heavy and serious. “You’d like it,” he said. No question in that tone, and no dominance either. It was just fact. He knew she’d like it. They both did.

The wickedness inside her stretched with pleasure. The power of it overwhelmed her.

“It’s not safe,” she countered, but even she could hear the breathless approval in her voice. It wasn’t safe and she wanted it that way. God. Her body was shameless, and her dangerous heart was even worse.

She waited for him to reassure her. I’ll take care of you. It’ll be fine. But he just watched her face as her fingers pressed harder into his ink, her nails against his skin now. She watched him, too, waiting, her pulse so quick she had to part her lips to get enough air.

This was wrong. So wrong.

Finally, his arm turned under her touch and he slid his hand around hers. He stood, and Sophie followed.

* * *

CHRIST, THERE WAS something incredibly sexy about this woman. Something that couldn’t be summed up by the slim waist and cute face and black heels. It was that smile, small and secret, and the way she watched him with a challenge in her eyes, wanting him to do...something.

If she were timid, he wasn’t sure he’d ever have noticed her. If she’d hidden behind her glasses and sweaters, his eyes would have skipped right over her, letting her red hair and brown eyes blend into the crowd. But she wasn’t hiding, she was...waiting.

And Alex was perfectly willing to step up to the plate.

He touched the small of her back when they reached the stairway, gesturing her to go ahead. The feel of the warm, thin fabric of her sweater reminded him that she wasn’t quite dressed for a bike ride.

“Here,” he offered when they got to the front door of the loud restaurant. He eased his jacket over her slim shoulders. He’d be more than warm enough with her hot little body pressed to his back. It was still warm for fall. Sixty-five or so.

“Thank you,” she said softly, slipping her arms into the sleeves, then laughing when her hands failed to emerge.

“That should keep your hands warm. Have you ever been on a bike?”

“No.” He walked her toward the bike and watched her eyes roam over it again, greedy with excitement. Shit. Alex wondered if she’d look at his body that way, if he stripped down and offered a ride. A man could hope.

“It’s a 1980 Triumph. A T140. I’ve had it almost fifteen years now.”

“It’s big,” she said.

He flashed her a smile. “Not as big as a hog.”

“But less common?” she asked.

“Bingo.”

Alex unlatched the pannier at the back of the bike and got out his helmet, then grabbed another one he kept for the occasional passenger. “All you have to do is hang on to me. Stay with my movements.”

“I think I can handle that.”

“And watch your legs. Keep your feet on the rests. You don’t want to burn yourself on the exhaust.”

“Okay.” She slipped her glasses into her purse, then eased the helmet over her hair and clipped the chin strap.

Alex had to stop himself from smiling at her little face framed by the big helmet. She had the most innocent face. And then that wicked red mouth... He took her purse and stored it in the pannier. “Are you ready, Sophie?”

The brightness in her eyes answered the question. Alex mounted the bike and hit the throttle. She licked her lips as the engine roared to life. He tried to ignore the way his cock stirred at the sight. Yeah, she was damn ready.

He waved her closer, and Sophie held her skirt in the primmest little gesture he’d ever seen a woman manage as she swung her leg over the bike and slid into place behind his hips. He waited a moment for her to arrange herself. Her front pressed to him, her arms came around his waist and her hands finally emerged from the leather sleeves to clasp each other.

“Ready?” he asked over his shoulder. He felt her head bob in a nod.

“Hold on.”

He eased away from the curb and her arms tightened. If it were daylight, he would have headed north, but since there were no sights to see, he took the road that went south from town. It was a little more wide-open for her first ride.

The moon was just rising above the hills, a view that Alex never got tired of on night rides. You forgot how much light it cast until you had to ride without it. Being swallowed up by darkness had its own beauty, but it was nothing compared to this, the silver light shimmering off the aspen trees that peeked out between the towering pines.

The road was a blank strip ahead of them, defined only by the middle line and the pale shoulders on either side. They slipped free of the town limits, passed a few trucks, and then there was a long straight path as they roared toward the Snake River Canyon.

After the first few minutes, he felt Sophie begin to relax against him, her body fitting tighter to his. Alex began to relax, too. She felt nice against him, soft and sweet. He hadn’t had a woman on his bike in a while. There’d been women since Andrea, but mostly one-night stands at whatever uninspiring motel he was sleeping in.

When he’d been younger, that had been one of the great advantages of traveling. New women. New possibilities. No commitments. But he’d gotten grumpier since then, older, and often his hand offered more relaxation with way less hassle.

But this? Flirting and anticipation and just enjoying someone’s presence? That hadn’t happened in a while.

Alex eased the bike around a long, wide curve and felt her go taut against him. He settled a hand on her leg, and the silkiness of her stocking was a tiny pleasure under his fingers. Such funny retro quirks, her full skirts and panty hose and little black glasses. Her thigh flexed, muscles moving against his palm, and Alex found himself suddenly struck with the startling idea that her outfit might be even more retro than he thought.

He was frozen for a moment, the heat of her leg radiating through the silk and straight into him. But she relaxed again. She relaxed enough that her legs parted a tiny bit farther and her hips slipped closer. Now he could feel her body all the way from his shoulder blades down to his ass. All of her, pressed against him, her shape molding into him.

Alex kept his eyes straight on the road, but all his concentration was focused on one small place. He took a deep breath and let it out, then slowly spread his fingers out on her thigh, edging an inch under the hem of her skirt.

She didn’t tense. She didn’t stiffen against him or clear her throat or nudge him with her clasped hands.

Alex slowed around another curve, then, as he straightened the bike out again, he slipped his hand a centimeter higher on her thigh. Then another.

His fingertips tingled from the intensity, the anticipation. And finally, he felt it. The smooth seam at the top of the stocking. The slightest rise of the edge. Then...bare skin. Bare hot skin.

She was wearing stockings. And a garter belt.

Holy shit. Something feral inside him roused itself.

His hand brushed the clasp holding the silk in place. He wondered if he’d know how to unhook it if he were given the opportunity, then realized he wouldn’t want to. He’d want the stockings on. He’d want to fuck her that way.

Alex let out the breath he’d been holding. She melted more fully against him. He left his hand just where it was. The clouds turned silver above the trees.

At first, he didn’t feel the change, but when Sophie’s hand flattened against his stomach, he realized she’d unclasped her hands. Now her fingers spread wider, feeling his body through the cotton of his shirt. Her other hand slipped up to trace over his chest. Nerve endings all the way from his neck down to his dick woke up and paid attention.

Adrenaline rushed into his veins, and if he’d managed to catch a chill on this ride, it vanished in an instant. His brain worked quickly, helpfully pointing out that there was a scenic turnout just ahead, in case he wanted to pull over and kiss her. And don’t you want to kiss her? his mind yelled.

Yeah. Hell, yeah, he wanted to kiss her. At least.

Alex slowed and cut across the highway, driving into a small dirt lot that overlooked the river. He cut the engine and toed down the stand, but he didn’t move. Her arms were still wrapped around him, her fingers still sliding slowly along his chest, mapping the shape of him. The only sound now was the water below them and a few crickets waiting for the first freeze.

He slid his hand back to her leg and heard a soft sigh. The sound made him close his eyes. Her other hand pressed tighter against his belly.

Jesus, this was insane. Locked like this with a woman he hardly knew and had never kissed, his fingers tracing the top of her stocking. He pushed her skirt a little higher and looked down to see her. The garter was pale in the moonlight. Not white, but the same color as her skin. The stocking just a shade darker.

He’d never seen them like that. Anytime he’d been lucky enough to be this close, the lingerie had been black. This was a subtler form of sexy, just like the rest of her. A nudge that dared you to find out more, if you were man enough to take the hint. He slipped his thumb beneath the strap of the garter belt and stroked the top of her thigh.

Yes. Another sigh. Alex took off his helmet, then felt her do the same. When he reached back, she handed over the helmet and slipped off the bike. His back was like ice without her.

He followed her slow walk to the railing and stopped behind her, keeping a few inches of space between them so she wouldn’t feel stalked. Her neck curved so delicately up from where his jacket hung loose around her. Two pale inches of skin between her shoulder and the sweep of her pretty red hair. She watched the water below them, dark and dangerous until it turned white against rocks. But he only watched her.

Finally, her head turned and she smiled at him. A demure tip of her lips. A coy glance. Alex stepped closer. His heart sped as he slipped his hands beneath the leather jacket and framed her hips. Then he slowly, slowly dipped his head and watched her face tip away, giving him access, letting him close until he could press a kiss to that soft skin just behind her ear.

Oh, she sighed again. A tiny, sweet sound. Alex opened his mouth on her. Just a little. Just enough to let her feel the heat, and this time her neck arched until he could brush his lips all the way down to the line of her shoulder and back up. As a reward, he scraped his teeth against her skin.

That got more than a sigh. She shivered and gasped and her hand came up to curl around his skull and pull him tighter. He sucked at her then, just below her ear, and Sophie’s whole body arched, pushing her hips back.

Hell, he hadn’t intended on pressing his erection against her ass that quickly, but he wasn’t going to push her away. Even if he’d wanted to, his hands had other ideas. They gripped her hips tighter and held her right there. Right where she’d wanted to be. The brush of her ass against his cock was a shudder of pure pleasure. He closed his eyes and let it wash over him. The sweetness of her.

She smelled good and tasted even better, but he wanted more of her. More.

Alex clasped her chin, turning her toward him so he could taste her kiss. She turned eagerly, offering her mouth to him, moaning into him as he kissed her. When she twisted toward him, he let his hands slide around her waist, turning her until he was holding her hips again. He tugged her belly against his hard-on.

Her tongue met his and slipped tentatively into his mouth.

Jesus, she was hot. A ridiculous mix of primness and eagerness that made him want to own her, dominate her, but with a few “Yes, ma’ams” thrown in out of respect.

He kissed her, carefully at first, getting to know her mouth and her taste. He knew he was a big, rough guy, and he didn’t want to scare her. But if he was trying to take care and go slow, Sophie didn’t have the same compulsion. Her hands freely explored him, sliding up his arms and over his shoulders. His ego swelled along with his cock when she made little noises of approval in her throat. He tugged her hips tighter to him and kissed her more deeply.

God, the pressure against his cock felt good. And her hands felt good as her fingers dug a little into his muscles, making him aware of his body. Of his strength and size and the way that might turn her on.