Riding Curves (2 page)

My underwear, not his hands. Like his
lips, his hands are perfect. Strong, thick, the fingers deft at
manipulating small things, like nuts and bolts. Or nipples and a
clit, one that was very swollen and achy at the time with the idea
of being touched by him.

I ran my hands over my bare arms,
trying to smooth away the thought of Aiden's calloused fingers
toying with any part of my body.

Unfolding the fabric, his brow shot up
at the sight of so much silk trimmed with lace. "I hope you're not
flashing these at all the frat boys, Cece."

My voice dropped an octave, my retort
only a few decibels louder than a groan. "So what if I
am?"

His mouth puckered, reminding me and
my pussy all over again why I couldn't ride on the back of his
bike. I moved to slide off the seat. Supremely confident and bossy,
he placed his palm against the rounded swell of my belly, holding
me in place long enough to give me another stay command like I was
a Golden Retriever or something.

He dove back into the bag and came up
with my toothbrush and one-piece bathing suit. He stuffed them into
the bike's pouch then re-zipped my bag.

"No make-up? My ereader?"

He was seriously fucking with my
expectations for a relaxing weekend. Not only did he have me in a
worked up state that could only lead to my eventual embarrassment
if the situation didn't change quickly, but I had downloaded a few
good books of the oh-so-naughty variety before leaving campus. I
fully intended to get discreetly hot and bothered reading them at
the lake while sneaking glances at Aiden in his swimming
trunks.

He grinned and, for a second, I wanted
to punch him. Instead, I just snarled. "You're a freaking Barbarian
Aiden Perry!"

From the side flap of my bag, he
fished out just my wallet and shoved it into his front jeans
pocket.

"You can't leave my cell
phone!"

His gaze lifted slowly, freezing any
further protest I might have thought to offer. Color flared across
his cheeks. "Why, afraid you'll miss one of those frat boys'
calls?"

I offered up another narrow stare
hoping it would wilt him. No such luck. His serious gaze broke from
another broad grin.

I changed tactics. "Mom will be
worried sick if she tries to call and I don't answer."

"Gale doesn't have any reception out
at the lake house. You know that." He opened the flap back up,
turned on my phone and navigated through my messages. "Neither does
Pete."

He paused, his mouth puckering for an
instant. "Who's Joe?"

"Those are private!" That time I
really did punch him. It didn't matter if the only thing
embarrassing about my texts was that they were so dry. He didn't
need to know that Joe was "Josephine" or that I was the most boring
girl at my university.

It was all his fault, too! I was too
busy having detailed, lurid sex fantasies about Aiden to even
search for the one guy out of a thousand at school who would look
at me and not curl his lip in disgust because I am not a size
two.

"Chill, baby girl, I'm not reading any
of your sexting." He pulled up the last text from my mother and hit
reply. "I'm just sending Gale a message so, if she actually manages
to get a signal, she knows you're with me and that your car broke
down."

With the message sent, he hooked my
house keys and grabbed my bag .

"Wait! I have to pee."

That earned me a skeptical side
glance. He shouldered the bag and studied me for a few seconds.
"Didn't you do that half an hour ago?"

Guilty as charged, but I didn't really
have to pee. I had a different urge to deal with before I spent an
hour pressed against him. I rolled my lips, further evidencing my
lie.

"That's what I thought." He threw me a
wink and turned toward the house, talking over his shoulder as he
walked away. "You just want more time to figure a way out of this.
You're not getting any."

He disappeared into the house for no
more than a minute. Emerging without my bag, he locked the front
door and returned to the bike. Taking the white t-shirt he showed
up in from the handle bars, he slowly pulled it over his head and
rolled it down his body.

I gathered enough willpower to look
away right before the fabric cleared his face and he could bust me
for ogling his chest. Instead, he finished to find me staring down
at the bike seat and misinterpreted the thoughts running through my
head.

He cupped my cheek while his thumb
caressed my lip. "Baby girl, you better not be pouting."

I snorted. He may be a genius when it
comes to designing bikes, but he was clueless about my feelings. If
he wasn't, he wouldn't have been doing something so dangerous as
running his thumb anywhere near my mouth. As innocent as his
intentions were, the gesture was too intimate when I have such a
mad crush on the idiot.

I wanted to snare that thumb and draw
it into my mouth, suggestively sucking on it until his cock was so
hard he forgot my size and that my dad was his best
friend.

He leaned in. His chin butted gently
against my forehead before he lightly growled. "Look at me,
Cece."

I couldn't ignore the growl. It did
funny things to me, twisting my insides until my gaze lifted and I
was looking into his warm brown eyes. For one pure second, it felt
like he understood, that he knew how badly I wanted him. Then he
blinked and the acknowledgment was gone.

His head dropping lower, his fingers
pushed my hair back so he could growl at me again, his mouth almost
pressing against my ear. "You sure now how to try a man's patience,
little girl."

With that, the argument was over. I
might have embarrassed myself before we arrived at the lake house,
but I was certain to do so if I so much as tried to speak right
then.

Choking down some ridiculous
declaration of love, I watched as Aiden grabbed the old leather
jacket hanging off the bike's handlebars and handed it to me. While
I slipped it on, he unhooked the spare helmet from the back bar. He
fitted it on my head, delicately tucking my hair to the side and
making sure not to pinch the underside of my rounded chin when he
secured the strap.

Finished, he climbed on the bike and
put his helmet on. Reaching back, he grabbed my arms and pulled me
forward until I was cinched against his muscular back. Then he
folded my hands over his taut stomach.

His fingers trailed down the side of
my legs, nudging me to properly position my feet on the foot pegs.
Pressed against him, surrounded by the smell of Old Spice and
engine grease, a fresh twinge squeezed my pussy. Cream pulsed from
me, dampening the seat of my jeans.

He turned the head set on.
"Ready?"

Was I ready? Yeah -- ready to pass out
from his touching me, and the damn engine wasn't even
on.

"Jerk," I whispered and hugged him
tight.

********************

Exhaustion numbed my legs by the time
we reached the lake. I wobbled as I slid from the bike. Aiden
wrapped an arm around my waist, his hip against me as a further
brace. When he was sure I could stand without falling, he removed
my helmet.

"You boiling yet?" His hands went for
my neck and then he started unzipping the jacket. The slide caught
a few inches down and he lowered his hand, his thumb under the
leather and pressing against my breast as he tugged the pull a
little harder.

The motion pulled me closer. Fisting
his t-shirt, I rested my head against his chest, obscuring his
hands as they worked between us. The zipper gave up the fight and
he pulled the jacket from me, his hands skimming down my
arms.

He has performed similar acts hundreds
of times since he entered my life, handling me like I was a doll or
a helpless dolt. Each time felt more intimate, first like the big
brother he pretended to be then, later, almost like a lover. But I
knew the latter sense of intimacy was just my
imagination.

With the jacket off, I tightened my
muscles, not only to make me smaller but to fight the tremor
running through my body. The effort was beyond me. I was too worn
out to control anything. Everything ached -- my thighs, my back, my
arms. More than anything, my clit was sore and overly sensitive
from the bike's vibrations.

"Boat's not in the slip." Aiden drew
back and stared over my shoulder at the lake. His gaze and voice
seemed far away. His jaw was tight and a fresh flush of pink
colored his cheeks. "They must have taken it out."

"Good." I didn't mean to blurt it, but
I did. The last thing I needed was Mom seeing me right then. She
always knows when something is off with me. I just hoped Aiden was
clueless, but the color rising on his face worried me.

"Brat." His jaw relaxed and his eyes
dipped down to meet mine. With a rumbling chuckle, he sidestepped
me and swatted my ass. Taking the saddle bag from the bike, he
plopped it on my shoulder. "Your finery, milady."

"You're the brat." I pushed the bag
back at him and started for the house.

Aiden followed close on my heels.
"You're just begging for another swat, Cece."

Opening the door, I called out to make
sure Dad wasn't out solo on the boat. "Mom!"

No answer. We were alone. I headed for
the kitchen, pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it with
tap water while I looked out at the lake. Aiden came into the room.
Somewhere along the way, he stored the bag. Grabbing a second
glass, he hip bumped me out of the way and started filling
it.

Once he shut the water off, I hip
bumped him back so I could continue looking out at the lake. I
desperately needed to study its placid surface. My body remained
riled up from the long ride pressed against Aiden's firm flesh and
his removal of the jacket, no matter how platonic his intentions
had been.

"Seriously begging for another swat,
baby girl." He moved until he stood behind me, his free hand along
my side as he sipped his drink and stared out the
window.

I tried to ignore him, particularly
the threat of having his hand on my bottom and how close he stood.
If I moved just an inch back, our bodies would have
touched.

"You're not hiding a second phone, are
you?" He spoke the question directly in my ear, his voice just
above a whisper. His breath curled against my skin, its gentle heat
forcing my eyes shut. "Well, are you?"

Trying to cover my body's reaction, I
snorted. "Where the hell do you think I'm hiding it?"

I know I carry extra weight, but it
wasn't like my fat had secret compartments or anything.

"In your car, maybe." He shrugged, his
shoulder rubbing against the back of mine. "You have to have a
second phone, there were no texts that looked like they were from
guys on the other one, unless Joe's a dude who lets you paint his
nails. He's not, right?"

"You said you weren't reading!" I
tried to turn but there wasn't enough room between the sink and his
body.

"Only because there wasn't anything to
read, Miss Communications Major." He opened up a space, just a
little, for me to face him. Taking my glass, he placed it on the
counter and studied me. "Unless coordinating a time for study group
and agreeing to pick up hot pink lacquer finish is some kind of
nerd code for a sex-filled keg party."

Ignoring the tease about my degree, I
poked a finger at his chest, the spot too muscled for me to have
any hope of denting it. "No, I don't have another phone. And it's
not like anyone is going to invite me to a keg party."

Realizing I had just fucked up, I
glanced away. My whole body started to flush with embarrassment.
Aiden would never admit it, but he had to know college boys -- not
even the grad students -- weren't interested in girls like me. That
I would turn them all down anyway because I was obsessed with Aiden
would hopefully remain my little secret until I grew out of
it.

"Will you shut up now?" I pushed at
his chest again, but he wouldn't budge.

He put his other hand down on the
counter, trapping me between his arms. Frowning, he nudged my
forehead with his chin until I met his gaze. "What do you mean no
invitations?'

I was not going to spell it out for
him. He had no sexual interest in me and had known me for so long
that maybe he really was indifferent to the round cheeks, overblown
hips and every other generous curve and dip in my body. That still
didn't mean I could confide to him about the rude cat calls that
every dumb jock on campus offered up. Hell, knowing Aiden, he would
have followed me back to campus and knocked a few
skulls.

Scowling, I pushed at his chest. "I'm
a nerd, remember?"

"It doesn't matter how nerdy a woman
is if she's beautiful, flutterby." He shook his head and I could
see his brain working overtime on how to pry the information from
me. "So, you're either a lesbian or sleeping with a married man who
won't let you c--"

"Neither! You--"

Laughing, he crowded me closer to the
sink using his hips. His voice dropped to a dangerously low level,
one that made a shiver race across my skin. "Then who are the
panties for, baby girl?"