I’m fairly certain there’s a thing between us. Jesus, I’ve never wanted a thing; I want one now. I’m willing to take the time to find out before I bed her. I have a feeling that once we cross that line, if we don’t combust into flames, we’ll be set on repeat for weeks, hell, months to follow.

It took all my strength to pull my lips from hers that first time. I knew they’d feel like heaven. Soft, full, and so right pushed against mine. She even had this taste that was all Skye; sweet and tangy all rolled up into one. We’ve kissed many times since then. I can’t get enough of that mouth. Although, that’s as far as we’ve gone. There’s still so much more I want to know about her, and I’m enjoying every minute of learning exactly who Skye Briar Blake really is. The more I learn, the more I love.

Every time Skye is nearby, my cock does a little—wait, a not so little, happy dance. Christ, it’s like I’m a teenager again. I hadn’t had so many unexpected and unwanted boners since high school. Inhaling the smell of her is enough to kick my hormones into high gear. Never had a scent of a woman’s shampoo turned me on so much, but then everything about Skye did that. Goddamn, she always smelled so good. Her soft, sweet, subtle flower scent fills my senses, filling my head and my lungs with every breath I take.

I’ve been in pain many nights after leaving her place in the early morning hours. But, I’m determined that we do this right. No rushing. No dash to the finish line—not when the journey there is as good as it’s been. My cock should just chill the hell out.

Eventually, the day will come where we’ll fall into bed together and do something other than sleep. That brings up the matter of us sleeping together on more than one occasion. I’ve crawled into her bed and held her close a few times over the last couple weeks. She has to have felt my arousal pressed against her backside but who could blame me?

Skye is everything I crave in a woman and then some. I’ve always liked my girls on the bigger side. So many curves and a lushness I can get lost in. I’m a man and I feel like strong, hard, rough—basically everything that she isn’t. It’s been hell holding back from her. I want her like Ryan wants another fucking drink. Not the best comparison, but it’s how I feel. At this point, I don’t think I could walk away from her even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to.

She excites me like no other. By the same token, she scares the living hell outta me, I swear. The feelings she’s ignited in me are so new and so unknown. Yet, I want more—I want to feel more with Skye. The underlying fear is just there—lingering, but I won’t let it takeover. This could be my chance. She could be the one. And, that right there is why it’s terrifying. I’ve never thought in terms of forever or The One. Here I am. That’s the reason I—well, we have to take this slow, one step at a time.

Taking it slow has definitely taken its toll on my body. I haven’t jacked off this much since I found my dad’s stash of Hustler in the garage at thirteen. I looked at that thing until the binding broke and the pages were almost unrecognizable. Sure I’ve been horny before, hello, I am a man. When the need arose, I’d find some willing woman and have a good time.

Don’t get me wrong; my list of lovers isn’t that long, but you can say I have some experience underneath my belt…literally. Now, the thought of quenching that thirst with anyone other than the curvaceous dark haired woman turns my stomach. Skye’s got me wrapped around her finger already and you can’t even call me pussy-whipped because I ain’t got no pussy yet.

**Skye**

I have no idea what Rhett has planned for the two of us tonight. Part of me hopes he shows me a beautiful evening on the town and the other part hopes he takes me back to his place and fucks me until I can’t walk. For the last couple of weeks the man has had my body on fire. Rhett is like no other man that I’ve dated, hell, that I’ve known. He’s kind, considerate, and so damn sexy that it scares me how my body reacts to him. I haven’t had dry panties since I met him.

“Hello, Beautiful, your chariot awaits,” he says as he places that big strong hand on my back, steering me down the walkway in front of my garage towards the sexy-as-hell motorcycle parked in my driveway. I find that so fucking sexy when he does that. Rhett treats me like a lady and that’s all brand spankin’ new to me. Sometimes I’m blown away by his gentlemanly ways. His Harley sits there with so much shine reflecting off the chrome it practically hurt to look at.

“She’s beautiful.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying since I laid eyes on you.”

Every. Damn. Time. It drives me crazy that my stomach does cartwheels every time he smiles at me like this, like he is at this moment. Swallowing my butterflies like candy, I state the obvious and instantly regret opening my mouth. “About time I get to ride.”

He chuckles. “Oh really?”

Now or never. “Yes, really.”

He stares at me but says nothing and I know he’s trying to decipher my comment. Yes Rhett, I’m not talking about the bike. Kissing my finger, I place it on his lips.

“Duly noted,” he says, slipping his sunglasses from the top of his head to cover those stunning emerald eyes. Handing me a helmet, he helps me buckle it after getting it on.

I can no longer control the smile that spreads across my face. How long has it been since I’ve been this excited? The anticipation of riding with Rhett—just spending time with him has me grinning like a fool.

Reaching past me, I try like hell to ignore the spark I feel when his skin barely grazes mine. I’m like a live wire after the last couple of weeks of spending time with him, thinking of him, and even more so from the moments I’ve spent kissing him. He pulls a leather jacket from one of the saddlebags on the bike and holds it for me to slip my arms in. Surprisingly, it fits—well kinda. Not that I could zip it if my life depended on it but it’s on at least.

“My jacket never looked so good.” I heard the words, watched his mouth say them but the compliment was lost on me. All I could focus on is how seriously sexy he looks. All bad boy in a plain black t-shirt, worn jeans that were a size or two too big which meant that studded black leather belt wasn’t just because it was smoking. I watch as he straddles the bike and kicks up the kickstand. “C’mon, let’s ride.”

Without giving myself time to be self-conscious about being too heavy for the bike or worry about being plastered against him, I hop on behind Rhett. This ain’t my first rodeo on the back of a Harley. When I wrap my arms around him and hold on, I hear him growl.

“Hang tight, Beautiful.” Pulling my feet up on the pegs on either side of the bike, I not only feel the power between my legs but from Rhett as he maneuvers the bike with the weight of both of us upon it. Within minutes, we’re on the highway and not one ounce of fear appears when he bobs and weaves between vehicles, handling it with a grace that’s truly awe-inspiring.

The rumbling of the motor is as hypnotic as the wind blows my hair hanging well below the helmet. When his right hand connects with mine, I know that he’s still completely competent handling the motorcycle one handed. We ride in silence except for the passing wind song and I’ve never felt more alive. When he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles I melt. This man is too perfect.

And that right there? Is the moment I let doubt start to intrude on my thoughts regarding this very man. When something is too good to be true it probably is. No, I will not do this! Pushing my imposing thoughts aside, I focus on Rhett and the way he handles the bike with a finesse I would’ve never imagined from such a brute of a man. Not that I should be surprised he’s been insanely gentle with me…a little too gentle with me.