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Once she’d tidied up, Sophie went to her dad’s room, gathered up his dirty clothes and started a load of wash. She ignored her brother’s closed door. He’d have to learn to fend for himself if he was ever going to live on his own someday. But he probably never would. He’d gotten too used to being taken care of, and Sophie knew she had to take a lot of the blame for that. Something else to feel guilty about.
Speaking of...even the thought of the word guilt led her back to Alex Bishop.
Would she see him again? He’d seemed awfully sure that she would. And he’d been right about one thing. She did want more. A lot more.
She wanted to be near him, wanted to feel the way her skin prickled at the very sight of him. And the way she felt small and submissive when his big hands touched her. God, the man had gorgeous hands. And arms. And tattoos.
She wanted to lick him. Wanted to fuck him. She wanted to call and keep lying about who she was so she could see him again and do everything they hadn’t done yet.
She was a terrible person, but she tried her best to keep it to herself. It didn’t matter as long as no one knew, as long as no one was hurt. But this had the potential to hurt Alex, herself and both of their families.
Not worth the hot sex, she scolded herself. But the terrible person inside her disagreed. Strongly.
She checked over the house one more time before leaving, slamming the door in the hopes that her brother would get his lazy butt out of bed. But by the time she got into her car and started for home, she wasn’t thinking about her brother. She was thinking about Alex. Again.
With her car window rolled down, the wind reminded her of the cool air against her body the night before. Just the ride on his bike had been a turn-on. The feel of his body guiding the beast beneath them, the way he’d fitted between her knees, the scent of his leather coat, the rumble of the engine. Then the speed. The power. The wind. The shimmering, sizzling knowledge that the ride was dangerous. Even deadly. It had all added up to the most arousing experience she’d had in years.
And then he’d slipped his hand over her thigh. The same bolt of pure animal lust she’d felt at that touch speared through her right now.
Sophie squirmed, then squeezed her thighs together, catching the pleasure between her legs and squeezing it tighter.
That first touch had been a rush, but then an even larger pleasure had pulsed through her, growing bigger and bigger as his hand slid higher and higher. The knowledge that he’d touch bare skin, that he’d know, that he’d find out. She wasn’t what people thought she was. She wasn’t a shy, modest local girl afraid to venture far from home. She was naughty. She was wicked. And she loved it.
His hand had finally found the top of her stocking. He’d discovered that secret. And unlike most men, he hadn’t missed a beat. One touch of her wickedly bare thigh, and Alex had pulled the bike over to discover whether or not she meant it. She did. She always did.
Sophie squeezed her thighs together again, gasping at the shock of that sweet pleasure.
God.
She could deny anything she wanted, but he saw the truth.
Sophie bit her lip, trying to bite back her need, but it didn’t work. She wanted to see him again. He’d touched her exactly the way she needed to be touched. He was right. She needed more.
She slowed the car to a stop at the side of the road and calmly withdrew a tube of lip balm from her purse. She smoothed it over her abused bottom lip, then stared at herself in the mirror. Her face looked calm, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with an excitement she recognized.
She had to tell Alex the truth, but as she slipped her sunglasses on and pulled back onto the narrow dirt road, she could no longer pretend that she regretted the lie.
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