Millionaire Playboys: Paying the Playboy's Price. Emilie RoseЧитать онлайн книгу.
back into her pocket and reached deep for the bravado to get through the next two hours. “I borrowed a manual and a video from the Harley dealership. I can name most of the parts of a motorcycle.”
He grunted a nonanswer while he polished a spot off the fuel tank with the hem of his shirt. A glimpse of flat abdomen dusted with dark curls sucked the breath from her lungs.
Her studiousness obviously hadn’t impressed him. But that was no surprise. She’d never met a guy who liked brainy women. She ought to know. She’d run off more than her share.
Take the initiative. She cleared her throat. “Can I drive your motorcycle today?”
He shot her a hard look. “My bike is too heavy for a beginner to ride alone, and you’re not wearing the proper gear.”
“I wasn’t wearing the proper gear Saturday night, either. I have a leather jacket and gloves in my car, if you insist, but it’s a little hot for those, isn’t it? Couldn’t you ride behind me and help me keep the Harley upright?”
A muscle in the corner of Rex’s jaw bunched. “Show me what you know.”
Her heart kaboomed in her chest. You can handle this.You’re used to proving yourself, and you give presentations at work all the time. Her mental pep talk didn’t keep her palms from dampening or her lungs from constricting. “Okay.”
Juliana tried to block Rex’s presence behind her from her mind as she circled the bike, naming the parts and regurgitating most of the salesman’s spiel. She was out of breath by the time she finished and faced Rex again.
Was that a spark of approval lurking in his narrowed eyes? “That was today’s lesson. Next week’s, too. Did you memorize the entire manual?”
Her cheeks burned. She grimaced and hugged her waist. So data was her thing. Big deal. “Pretty much.”
He smoothed a hand over his tied-back hair. Juliana curled her fingers against the need to test its texture. What was wrong with her? She’d never had the urge to stroke a man’s hair before Rex, but she yearned to know if his was thick and springy or soft and silky. It was definitely well cared for, with bluntly trimmed ends and glossy sheen.
He exhaled long and slow. She caught a whiff of mint on his breath. “Put on the helmet and climb on.”
The bottom dropped out of her stomach, and then she scrambled to do as he instructed before he changed his mind or she chickened out. Both very real possibilities. Her legs quivered as she mounted the bike, and her hands trembled when she reached for the rubber grips on the handlebars. The Harley felt bigger, broader than last time, but last time she’d been on the back and not in the driver’s seat.
Rex donned his own helmet. He looked so sexy and rebellious dressed all in black from his boots to his helmet that her heart went wild. And then he climbed on behind her. Their bodies didn’t touch, but his heat spanned the gap between them, and the fine hairs on her body rose as if magnetized toward him. His shoulders bracketed hers as his thickly muscled arms reached around her, and his hands flanked hers on the handgrips.
Juliana swallowed to relieve the sudden dryness of her mouth. Her pulse roared in her ears, nearly deafening her to his low-pitched instructions.
“When we’re ready to roll, I want you to park your feet on top of my boots to get a feel for how I shift the gears. I’ll cover your hands with mine to work the throttle and brakes.” He suited words to action. His palms were hot and slightly rough against her skin. His fingers wove between hers.
Who knew the sides of her fingers could be so receptive?
Rex continued to rattle off safety tips and general info. Juliana struggled to focus on his words, but fear and an alien sensation intertwined low in her belly, interfering with her ability to process the instructions in a coherent manner. Good thing she’d picked up most of the info from the manual and driver’s safety book.
“I’m going to start the engine, and then we’ll take a slow lap around the farm.”
She started trembling before the motor rumbled to life.
“Relax,” he called over the motor’s throaty growl.
Easier said than done. She wasn’t sure which intimidated her more—the man behind her or the mechanical beast beneath her. The man, she decided, but by a narrow margin.
Rex rolled the bike forward to disengage the kickstand. His chest nudged her back and his breath teased the hair at the base of her neck beneath the round, bowl-shaped helmet. The insides of his thick biceps brushed the outsides of her arms and she shivered. This time there was no mistaking the cause. Sexual awareness. Good to know she wasn’t incapable. She hoped the engine vibration concealed her response from Rex or she’d be in for another brush-off. Later, when she wasn’t on the back of this monster, she’d scrutinize the budding sensations and the fact that she had erogenous zones in the oddest locations. That she had functioning erogenous zones at all was newsworthy in itself.
“Squeeze the clutch and put the bike in gear.” His left hand manipulated hers over the mechanism on the handlebar and his left foot shifted the gears beneath hers. “And then you ease the clutch back out again,” he said over her shoulder. “Slow and steady.”
The bike sprang forward, thumping Juliana into Rex’s chest. Her breaths shortened—not from fear of the bike, but because of the man curved against her spine. His warmth encircled her and her scanty camisole wasn’t much of a barrier. She considered reestablishing the space between them, but the urge to stay burrowed against his chest was too strong to fight.
“Shift into second.” His foot and hands moved and the bike picked up speed on the long gravel driveway. The power of the engine pulsated through her and each bump in the road chafed her body against Rex’s like an all-over massage.
Hello! You can’t learn two dangerous skills at once. Concentrate on learning to ride the motorcycle first or you’ll get yourself killed. There will be time to work on the man-woman thing with Rex later.
Maintaining her focus wasn’t as easy as it should have been, but Juliana concentrated on the changing engine sounds and tried to block out the rise and fall of Rex’s chest against her shoulder blades.
Rex kept the bike on a steady course over the flat farm road for one lap around the property and then another and another. By the third circuit Juliana could anticipate when it was time to change gears and brace herself for the slide of Rex’s thigh against hers before it happened. Her tense muscles slowly relaxed, allowing other sensations to penetrate the sensual haze fogging her brain.
The setting sun kissed her cheeks, and the sweet scent of honeysuckle filled her lungs. Warm, humid air caressed her arms and the narrow strip of bare skin at her waist.
I could get used to this. I could even like it.
Juliana Alden, biker chick. Her mother would have a stroke. A chuckle slipped from Juliana’s lips, and then she sobered and said a prayer of thanks that her mother had decided to punish her with the silent treatment since the auction. She hadn’t caught grief from her other family members, either, because her father had been out of town and her brother had been occupied with Holly.
Ick. Not a path she wanted to travel.
Rex downshifted and pulled the Harley to a stop. “Your turn.”
Juliana’s pulse, which had slowed to a steady thump over the last fifteen minutes, galloped once more. She twisted on the seat. Rex’s face was so close she could see every pore, every individual blade of beard stubble, and each tiny crease at the corners of his eyes and on the surface of his lips. Gulp. “Already?”
She lifted her gaze to his. For several seconds, he didn’t look away and then his dark chocolate eyes lowered to her mouth. Her breath lodged in her chest. She inhaled unsteadily. All she had to do was lean forward and—
Rex released the handlebars, slid back on the seat and fisted his hands on his thighs.
“You’re