When Stephen took off his shirt, it was like all the air had been sucked from the backyard. Nothing could have made her look away from the rippling muscle, or the sheen of sweat that covered his back and shoulders. All the brothers were good, the teams evenly matched, but Stephen was by far the best, his athleticism, speed, and strength evident in every move. She wanted to run her hands and mouth over every inch of him, and she had nothing else to do but stand there getting hot and bothered. To wonder what the light dusting of black hair on his chest would feel like under her fingers. And the line of it that disappeared into the waist of his jeans, leading her eyes right to what she wondered about most.
“Look at that,” Matt yelled after Stephen made a stunning catch. “He can still play.”
Yes. He could. And looked incredibly good doing it. And when he handed the football off to one of the little boys, then scooped him up and made a run for the goal, her heart melted.
The game ended, high fives were given all around. Husbands kissed their wives, kids begged for food, and Stephen walked to where she waited at the swing set. He didn’t stop until he’d closed every bit of space between them. Until his wide body shielded her from the rest of his family. Neither spoke for several long hot seconds. Tiny beads of sweat ran along his temple and down his stubbled jaw.
Strong and solid. Hot and sweaty, liquid brown eyes heavy with desire. For her. So close she could feel the heat rolling off his skin, could breathe in his sexy man smell.
He raised his hands to the wooden beam above her head, boxing her in. “You threw my game off.”
She swallowed against her dry throat. “I did?”
“Definitely. It took everything I had not to come over here, screw the game.”
And it took everything she had not to slick her palms over his abs, his chest, and around his shoulders.
“I could feel your eyes on me. I can’t think straight when you look at me like that.”
She didn’t know exactly how she’d been looking at him, but she knew what she’d been thinking. Good Lord. Had everyone seen it? And now he was looking at her like he’d won the grand prize and she was it. She had the thought that maybe she should run, that she wasn’t ready for this. For him. But she laid a shaky hand against his side, felt him suck in a breath between his teeth.
“I need a shower.”
“I don’t care.”
Stephen cursed under his breath. “I’ll take you home.” He took her hand in his and grabbed his shirt off the back of a chair, barely giving his family a backward glance.
Chapter 19
Stephen pulled her behind him out the gate, and she’d waved a hasty goodbye to Abby with what she imagined was a ridiculous smile on her face. They went around to his motorcycle parked at the curb and he fastened his helmet on her head. He slipped on his shirt, and cranked the motor. “Hold on.”
She did, because what else does a girl do when a man tells her to get on the back of his motorcycle? She hugged him tight enough that her breasts pressed against his muscled back. The motor vibrated between her legs and the ridges of his abs flexed under her hands. Exhilarating. Arousing. Hot.
But mostly it was being with Stephen. Just the two of them, the warmth of the sun, and the whipping wind as they flew down the highway. Wild and free. Like being on a horse, only a million times better because she wasn’t alone.
Too soon, they turned in to the gate and made their way through a tunnel of trees. They stopped in front of her porch under a sprinkle of sunlight, the sudden shade after the sun bringing chills to her skin. Stephen cut the motor, flipped the kickstand, and got off the bike. So large and capable. Skilled and in command.
She was about to ask him if they could do this again, but before she opened her mouth, he lifted the helmet from her head and dropped it on the ground, not once taking his eyes from hers. Like he couldn’t see anything else. Like there was nothing and no one else. Then he got on the bike again, facing her.
Her legs were spread on the hot leather seat, open to him as he was to her. It felt wicked, and dangerous. Big hands came down on her thighs, hot and heavy. He ran his palms over the fabric of her jeans, starting at her knees and moving upward. Then down, and up again, slowly from her knees to where her thigh met hip. And still his eyes held hers.
In a sudden move he gripped her legs just above the knee and pulled, sliding her along the seat until not even a breath separated them. So close she could barely breathe.
“Hannah.”
He spoke her name on a breath, making her insides dip and dive. Then, with their gazes still locked, he speared his fingers roughly into her hair and covered her mouth with his. It was a kiss so hot, so fierce, there was no room for anything else. No fear. No second thoughts. Without hesitation, her arms circled his neck, his back. Her fingers slid up and into his damp hair and she kissed him back with everything she had.
With one hand still tangled in her hair, the other moved seductively down her side, and an unfamiliar need rose inside her. Keeping her dazed with his kiss, his palm teased lower, stopping just short of the apex between her legs. Her body tightened and buzzed, warmed and melted.
He kept her guessing as to what he would do next, where he would touch her, how he would kiss her. Fast or slow. Gentle nips or deep strokes. He covered her bottom with both hands and brought their bodies fully together and held. Between two layers of denim, she felt him hard between her legs. Arousal crawled along every nerve ending and spread. He rubbed against her, rocked her against him. Trailed hot, openmouthed kisses down her neck until she was coming apart.