Diego put his own helmet on, then swung one of his thickly muscled legs over the broad seat. He held out his hand to help her do the same. Being shorter, it wasn’t as easy for her. Her bag made it a little more awkward as well. But once she was firmly in place, he started the engine. The bike was as loud as it was big, and the roar of it gave her a thrill.
Diego looked at her over his shoulder. “Hold onto my waist as tight as you can. Don’t worry about squeezing me. I just don’t want you falling off. And when I take a turn, lean into the turn with the bike, not against it. Got it?”
Cassidy nodded. She slipped her hands then her arms around his narrow waist, tentatively at first. Diego was, after all, virtually a stranger. She wasn’t used to grabbing hold of men, even ones she knew really well, as she’d been raised to be reserved. Beneath his shirt lay hard abs. Her hands could count the six pack through the cloth. It was deliciously brazen to rub her palms across his hard expanse. When he let the bike leap forward, she hugged him more tightly, her uptight Boston upbringing be damned.
Her splayed legs curved around his small, tight ass, and her breasts pushed against his broad back. The tremor of the bike goosed her nerve-endings, in particular the ones between her legs. It was like riding the world’s largest vibrator.
As promised, Diego navigated slowly down the streets. Given the sudden state of her arousal, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he took her for a fast ride. Her pants clung to the leather seat by the wetness between her legs, which had nothing to do with the lingering heat of the day. Or even merely because of the bike’s motion. It was the man she gripped making her so.
Her clit throbbed eagerly with every bump and grind. Her nipples had turned into sensitive points, enflaming her breasts with each rasp against Diego’s shirt. With the visor still up, the wind whipped gently against her face. Instead of helping her cool down, it revved her up. The bike was an amazingly liberating and thrilling mode of transportation. Taking a ride with a hot man even more so.
The ride came to an end all too soon. Diego pulled over and parked the bike in a spot that wasn’t really a spot, but there was no ticketing at night and, big as it was, the bike was still much smaller than a car. She had trouble getting off by herself, her legs a little wobbly and the seat being so wide. Somehow, he managed to help her off without her landing on her ass. When she took off the helmet, she shook her head, sending her loose hair flying around her face.
She laughed. “I always wanted to do that, like being in a hair product commercial. This is the first time I’ve had an occasion to.”
Taking the helmet from her, Diego gave her a rueful look. “Really? With hair that silky, I would have thought you shook it all the time to drive men wild.”
Cassidy rolled her eyes. “I have never driven men wild.”
Diego reached out and tucked some hair behind her ear. He gazed down at her. “You’re wrong about that.”
Her breath caught, and she became mesmerized by his eyes. Once again, she saw within them how much he wanted her. It was disturbing to be the focus of such desire and almost sent her running away. Almost. Instead, to buy herself some time to pull herself together, she adjusted her bag and stepped onto the sidewalk. “So, dinner?”
Diego cleared his throat and joined her. He held both helmets in one hand, and they managed to cover the front of his pants. He got points for trying not to unsettle her too much, although she already knew he was aroused.
“Yes, dinner. I’m told the food here is authentically Italian.” He passed her to open the door to the restaurant and usher her inside.
“Are you part Italian?”
He hesitated as he joined her, his expression suddenly guarded. “No, I’m one hundred percent Puerto Rican.” The way he pronounced his heritage told her he spoke Spanish as well. He stared at her, as if waiting for a response.
She smiled back and gave a little nod of acknowledgment, not quite sure what he was looking for her to say. Or, maybe, she realized he was waiting for her to have a negative reaction. Could that be it? Like they were in West Side Story or something? God, had other women given him reason to worry about it? She was suddenly livid on his behalf and her own if that were true.
She held his gaze, willing him to see that his ethnicity was irrelevant to her. Finally, he smiled back. When the hostess approached, he asked for a table for two. Thank God, there was no wait because she was starving. Diego moved quickly to put the helmets down behind his chair so he could come and hold hers out for her. The gesture was so sweet and old fashioned. She beamed her thanks.
He sat opposite, the small square table separating them by a couple of feet. It was a homey place with cotton table cloths, low lighting, and a lit candle flickering in a squat glass container in the middle of the table. It was romantic in a low key way. She glanced at Diego over the top of her menu and allowed herself to appreciate how sexy he looked, with his dark hair and olive skin. His shirt exposed a hint of his chest, where a couple of curly hairs resided. She’d never touched a man who had chest hair. Her fingers tightened their grip on her menu as she imagined what it would be like.
Diego glanced up from his menu. “If you keep looking at me like that, Cassidy, I’m never going to be able to figure out what I want to eat. Other than you, of course,” he added in a murmur before she had a chance to challenge his statement that she was looking at him in any particular way.
She gasped in shock, the titillated kind, not the actually outraged kind. No man had ever said anything that provocative outside of bed or inside it. Naturally, Thomas hadn’t, being so proper he barely managed to indicate he wanted sex at all. There was no chance to respond further because the server stepped up.
They both ordered a glass of Chianti, and Cassidy went with her usual Italian choice. “I’ll have the fusilli Bolognese, please.” Her taste buds tended toward the unadventurous.
“
Linguini fra diablo
,” Diego said.
“That’s a bold choice. It sounds too spicy to me.”
Diego folded his arms on the table top, leaning in closer. “I like hot things.” His tongue did a slow swipe of his bottom lip while his eyes were focused like lasers on her. She didn’t miss his deliberate use of the synonym.
“Oh?” Heat flashed through her, and she took a big gulp of her ice water. “Is, um, Puerto Rican cuisine
hot
?” Wow, she was really bad at flirting.
Diego didn’t seem to notice or care. “When it wants to be.” His voice was low and seductive. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Cassidy was saved from coming up with a suitable reply by the server bringing their wine. Raising his glass, Diego leaned in even closer. “To the beautiful woman who agreed to have dinner with me.” He brought the glass to his lips, and she watched as his throat worked the liquid down.
Oh, God, she was completely out of her depth. Instead of trying to come up with an equally complimentary toast, she gulped down some of the wine. Long minutes passed as they drank their wine and waited for dinner to arrive. Diego did most of the talking, amiable chatting about nothing in particular. She appreciated his giving her some space instead of continuing his seduction. She must have looked as awkward as she felt. She tried to stare playfully at him, but it was no good. She wasn’t going to be able to be blasé about this impromptu date.
“I think this would be a good time to confess something,” she said when there was a lull in the conversation. Diego raised his eyebrows, but otherwise gave her the space to continue. “I haven’t been on a date in over a year, and before that, I’d been engaged for five years.” She left out the part about how her fiancé had also been her boyfriend since college. It was just too pathetic to provide those additional details.
Diego twirled his glass thoughtfully. “Really? Then I’m even more flattered and grateful that you agreed to break your fast, as it were, with me. Thank you.”
Seriously?
“I don’t think you’re getting my point.” Her explanation was interrupted by their meals being served. Her dish smelled delicious, and hunger drove her mouth to do something more urgent that speaking. She moaned over her first bite. It was delicious.
“I think we’re going to have to add certain noises to the list of things you can’t do around me, Dr. Barnes. Unless...” He paused with a morsel of food on his fork. “It’s your intention to drive me insane.”
Cassidy rolled her eyes at the comment, even though she was secretly thrilled at his compliments. She eyed his fork as it zoomed in on her. “No, thanks. I’m not used to spicy. I’m more of a New England bland kind of eater.”
“I call bullshit,” he replied with a grin. “Just try it.”
She knew a dare when she heard one, and she was stubborn and competitive in her own way. Leaning forward, she opened her mouth and slid the offering into it with a delicate scrape of her teeth. At first, all she tasted was complex and delightful flavors. Then a tingling hit the back of her tongue as she swallowed. It made her flush from head to toe and revived the low level arousal that lingered after the bike ride.
“What do you think?”
She lowered her eyelids and leaned toward him again. “More, please.”
Chapter Three
Diego gladly forked up more of his dish and fed it to Cassidy. The expression on her face and the little moans of pleasure she made each time she chewed were like a vice tightening his cock. Sweet Jesus, she was driving him mad.
The impulse to try to waylay her for a date hadn’t given him time to appreciate what he’d be getting into. He’d almost dumped his bike on the pavement when her hands slid around his waist. Just that small amount of touch on a typically low sensitive area of his body had been a shot to his dick. Then the feel of her curved around him, hugging his ass with her hard nipples brushing against his back, had frayed what was left of his control.
This was supposed to be a nice, getting-to-know-you kind of dinner, not an exercise in torture. All he could think about now was getting her into bed. That was so not his style. Very simply, he wasn’t that easy. Sex on the first date wasn’t something he typically did or even thought about. He liked to get to know a woman before becoming intimate. Maybe it was a product of being raised by strong women, but he thought it was disrespectful to try to jump a woman first thing.
His cock apparently had decided his old style was going to change along with his new job. It had only one thing on its tiny mind—fucking Cassidy. It was going to have to learn to live with disappointment, however. Even if he were willing to toss caution to the wind, the lady wouldn’t. Hadn’t she just told him she’d been out of circulation for a long time? Engaged for five years? What kind of a dope was that guy not to leap at a chance of putting a ring on her?
He squirmed in his chair. “Seems like you’re not as bland as you think.”
Cassidy sat back in her chair heavily. “Color me amazed. I thought I knew myself.”
“I’m glad I could introduce you to something new.”
“More than one thing—first bike ride, first spicy food.” She shrugged and picked up her own fork. “Who knows what else?”
Was that a hint of how the night might end? He didn’t dare scrutinize it. Instead, he got down to cleaning his plate. Cassidy refused more of his meal and quickly polished off hers. When the server asked if they wanted dessert, they both refused, as they did the coffee. They briefly tussled over the bill. He won, of course, and happily handed Cassidy onto his bike once more.
The trip to her place was hell. Because she took the T to work, he didn’t have to return her to her office. She directed him to the section of Boston he’d learned was called the Back Bay. It might have started out as landfill, but it was a toney section of the city now. Cassidy had him pull up to a beautiful brownstone.
He gazed up the façade of the building as he took the helmet from her. “Are these condos?”
“Um, no, I own the building. It’s my home.”
He looked at her with surprise. “The whole thing?”
She blushed. “Yes. It was my grandmother’s. She gave it to me when she moved to South Carolina.”
That’s when Diego realized Cassidy looked like a million bucks because she probably had a million bucks, or two. Or three. Jesus, she was way out of his league in many ways. None of that meant squat to his dick, of course. The damn thing just pictured five floors where they could fuck all night.
“Wow, it’s beautiful.” He was suddenly unsure of what he should say or do next. “Thanks again for having dinner with me.” He made it sound like a good-bye because he didn’t want her to think he expected anything more from the evening. If it ended here, it would be enough.
“Would you like to come in?” she asked almost before he’d even finished his sentence. “We could maybe have that coffee.”
He looked hard into her eyes and saw the unspoken invitation in them. Shit, he had expected her to be the gatekeeper because he wasn’t sure he had the willpower. If she was buckling, he had no chance to stand firm. “I’d like that, thanks.”
He followed her up the stoop, into an exquisite foyer inlaid with marble flooring, and up a staircase of deep brown wood. As they reached the next landing, she stopped and turned. Her delicate hands pressed against his chest as she leaned into him. Her eyes sparkled, yet her cheeks pinked up, and she darted her tongue out to wet her lips.
“I have to confess I don’t really want coffee.” Her voice was low and breathless. “I’d rather continue up the stairs to my bedroom. If that’s okay with you?”
Words lodged in his throat, and no amount of swallowing let them out. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in flush for a kiss. The moment his lips touched hers, she gave a small sigh and opened up for him. He needed no further invitation, slipping his tongue in for a long, lingering taste. He wanted to take a leisurely stroll through her mouth and was caught by surprise when the intensity ramped up in a millisecond.
Cassidy fisted his shirt as he squeezed her tight against him. His kiss turned feral, hot, eager, and almost desperate. A whimper from her echoed inside him, and his body recognized it for what it was—an invitation to take more, not a plea for less. He shifted his hands, skimming them down her back to yank her shirt from her slacks. Then it was all smooth, soft skin he stroked as he backed her toward the stairs. She wiggled her hands from his chest to clasp his waist, then mimicked his actions. Her hands were hot on the skin of his bare back.