He cupped her jaw with his warm palm and tilted her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze. “This is the part where I’m protecting you, so you’ll have to put up with bossy.” He ran his thumb lightly over her mouth. “And I’ll put up with your lip because—”
“Because my lips are telling you I’m heading out of town as soon as I find my brother,” she said, cutting him off. “My lips are also telling you I didn’t agree to your plan. I’m better off at Dawn’s place. Why risk the repercussions of protecting me when I’m about to leave?”
His gaze, hot and heavy, fell to her mouth and then he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers in the softest kiss. “Say yes, lips.” The soft yet commanding murmur of his voice turned her legs to jelly.
Arianne’s brain fuzzed. Whether from the warm touch of his palm on her cheek, the arousal his kiss sparked in her blood, or the overwhelming desire to feel safe, even if only for a night, she didn’t know. But she wanted to go with him. Wanted it almost as much as she wanted to be free. And yet—
A growling roar in the distance drew Arianne’s attention. But before she had even processed the fact that the faint lights were from motorcycles, Jagger, Cade, and Zane were already on the move.
“Leave the car.” Cade gestured Dawn to his bike. “You’ll never outrun them. I’ll take you home and send a coupla prospects to pick up your vehicle when it’s safe.”
Dawn gazed Arianne a questioning look and Arianne shrugged. Although she felt safe with Jagger, she didn’t know Cade and couldn’t give her bestie the assurance she sought. These men were bikers, after all.
But then, so was Dawn. Once.
With a light laugh, Dawn swung her leg over Cade’s pillion seat. “Rock ‘n’ ride, baby. And if you hurt a hair on my golden head, you’ll be gettin’ a face full of pepper spray. I might be small, but I pack a punch.”
Arianne took one last, lingering look at Dawn’s car and then turned to Jagger. Her heart pounded as the roar of the motorcycles on the highway grew louder. Zane and Cade started their engines, but still she couldn’t move. Everyone she’d trusted in her life had let her down, and now the one person who she should trust the least was asking her to trust him the most.
Seemingly unconcerned by the approaching motorcycles, Jagger squeezed her hand. “You’ll be safe with me, Arianne.”
For an instant she didn’t move. Wanting. Hoping. Then she swung her leg over the back of his bike. “If you’re lying to me, Jagger, I’ll put a knife through your heart.”
“Sweetheart, you already did.”
*
He wanted to fuck her.
Heart still thrumming from the adrenaline rush of the pursuit, Jagger gripped his handlebars so hard, his fingers almost went through his leather riding gloves. For a man who rigidly controlled every aspect of his world, the uncertainty involved in every encounter with Arianne both inflamed and exhausted him. She couldn’t be cajoled or enticed, controlled or dominated. She did what she wanted to do when she wanted to do it, and he had never been so damned aroused in his entire life.
Vexy. Vixen. He’d been wrong before. Her road name suited her to a T.
And yet, here she was. Tucked up against him as they raced through the night. Masculine pride suffused his body as if he had just single-handedly conquered an army. Her acceptance of his protection roused an almost primal sense of satisfaction in him, and a desire so fierce and sharp, it took his breath away.
Worthy.
He grunted his approval when she locked her arms around him in anticipation of a sharp curve, and not just because she fit so perfectly against him. She knew how to ride pillion. Hell, if he hadn’t been so attuned to her body—the soft swell of her breasts pressed against his back, firm hips tucked against his ass, her sweet thighs parted around him—he would barely have known she was there.
As if that were a possibility.
He glanced quickly over his shoulder, catching her gaze to make sure she could handle the speed. He would have preferred her to wear a helmet for safety, but since Montana was one of the few states without a helmet law, he didn’t carry one. Damn, she was beautiful. Her hair, tousled by the wind, framed the perfect oval of her face, and her eyes, green and liquid, sparkled with the thrill of the ride. Speed demon. Just like him. And yet when he saw the scar on her cheek, his body tensed. No wonder she found it hard to trust anyone.
She licked her plump lips, and he felt an almost overwhelming urge to pull over and savor her mouth, drink until he was drunk with her pleasure. But he’d only just saved himself from making that mistake at the roadside, pulling away before he had really sampled the sweet promise of those lips. He had no doubt, one taste of Arianne wouldn’t be enough.
One taste.
One. Fucking. Taste.
Unable to stop himself, he turned onto a side road and drove until he found a secluded copse of trees. Then he killed the engine.