Slow Burns (Blacksteel Bandits Motorcycle Club Book 1) (3 page)

“Is it safe?” Miranda cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Tyler. She raised her hand to the ladder, and gingerly touched it, as if worried it would shatter under her palm.

“Only one way to find out.” Tyler's eyes glittered with a challenge. He leaned closer to Miranda, with narrowed eyes and a teasing smirk. “Unless you're too afraid, Mir.”

She shot him a glare, indignity flaring in her thoughts. Before Tyler could harass her any further, she hoisted herself onto the ladder. It shuddered under her weight, but didn't creak. Slowly, Miranda made her way up, trying to ignore the feeling of Tyler's gaze on her. Despite the blush that burned along her cheeks, she didn't mind his leering.

As he watched her ascend up the fire escape, desire coiled across his thoughts. His gaze slid over the curve of her back, her ass, and her legs. Pleasant heat simmered in his gut as his imagination brought her under him, her lips close, her breasts heaving, his name laced into her moans. Tyler shook the thoughts off as Miranda's boots climbed up before his eyes. He scrabbled after her, hope suspended in his thoughts

Once the two arrived at the roof, they took a moment to drink in the sight. The roof, bathed in pale moonlight, contrasted against the dark sky and the stretch of sparse vegetation that lay just behind the building. Miranda stared down the landscape, over the shrubs and trees. She thought she could hear far-off creatures rustle and sidle along the brush. Stars, barely noticeable thanks to air pollution, speckled the blue-black velvet of the sky.

She took a deep breath, glad to be away from the bar and the people. Tension oozed from her limbs and, for the first time in a long time, she felt completely at ease. A smile curled over her lips.

“You still have that look.” Tyler's voice cut through her captivation.

Her gaze snapped to Tyler's face. Her smile didn't falter, though her eyebrows dipped in uncertainty. “What?”

“It's this look you always got when we snuck off in the middle of the night,” Tyler's grin grew, though his ears reddened. He averted his gaze, unused to relaying fond memories. Rubbing the back of his neck, he muttered, “When we were pretty much in the clear, you would always stop and look around and smile, then take a big breath. Like you were enjoying freedom for the first time.”

Miranda's head listed to the side, surprise filtering through her thoughts. She definitely remembered feeling free with Tyler. It didn't matter where or how, whether they were just walking around Legacy or they had crept out for a night on the town. The fact he remembered her reactions, though, struck Miranda.

Heat licked across her cheeks and the urge to touch Tyler ran up her arms. Miranda couldn't bring herself to look away, though she did swallow the urge to touch him. For now. With a giddy smile, she laughed, “I can't believe you remember something like that.”

“Why's that?”

“Well, you've been gone for ten years.” Miranda shrugged and looked away from his face. “I'm sure there's been plenty of women you've made memories with.”

Tyler laughed, a little too loudly, and scrubbed at his face. Sure, there were women. He faintly recalled plenty of ladies and romps in the sheets. However, he'd never be able to pick many of them out from a crowd. Most of the memory making had been done under the haze of drink. He shook his head, chuckling, “None of them amount to what we had, Mir.”

A sudden wave of faint conversation slammed into Miranda. Her father's voice, her mother's shill cries, her friends' snide comments, Tyler's parting words. Pain sliced through her heart and she swallowed heavily. Realizing she and Tyler were standing too close, she sidled away, crossing her arms. “We broke up for a reason.”

“So?” Tyler's eyebrows furrowed. Somewhere near the bar, a door slammed open and a feminine voice giggled raucously. Tyler resisted the urge to close the gap between himself and Miranda. “That doesn't mean the feelings are gone.”

Miranda turned away from him. Her fingers still itched with the urge to touch him, to run her digits through his hair and feel his body under her fingertips. She burrowed her hands tighter against her body, and ducked her head down. Her self-restraint clamped down on her fantasies. “I should go.”

Something was wrong. Uncertainty wobbled in Tyler's head as he cut off Miranda's retreat. For the first time since he returned, he touched her. His hands fell to her shoulders, stopping the woman in her tracks.

She stifled a gasp in her throat, delicious warmth and electricity coursing from his touch. Her lower stomach tightened and she dug her fingers against her sides, fighting mounting desires.

Tyler stooped, peering into Miranda's face as he gently asked, “Hey, what did I say?”

“Tyler, my last relationship just ended, literally, yesterday.” Miranda closed her eyes, refusing to look into his concerned brown eyes. Those eyes had a way of melting her resolve, dissecting her thoughts, coaxing the deepest ones out. She swallowed, trying to stave off her confused tears and her deep desires. A pain she thought had healed long ago throbbed across her head. “I know we broke up for the better, but that doesn't make it any easier.”

Words poised on the tip of Tyler's tongue – explanations for his flight from Legacy, the pressure to let her go, how much it hurt him, as well. But, that was all in the past. If he wanted to relay those thoughts, he should have done it a long time ago. Instead, his voice dropped an octave and his fingers squeezed her shoulders. “I'm sorry.”

She couldn't bear to look him in the eye. She knew she'd crumple into tears or – worse – throw herself at him. They didn't need to reopen past wounds any farther. She settled for a cracking murmur, “Me, too.”

Something heavy descended between them. Neither wanted to move, neither wanted to break the connection. Yet, both knew it would be for the best.

Suddenly, a buzzing sliced the air between them. They both jolted and reached for their cellphones, both relieved and frustrated at the interruption.

“It's me,” Miranda muttered, looking at the text from Naomi. Her stomach flipped while her heart thudded. A confusing mixture of hope, excitement, and dread nipped at her thoughts. “She and Jack are heading back to his place.”

She refrained from wincing. Naomi had driven her to the bar and she had the keys. The blonde probably tried to find her at the bar and, when she couldn't locate Miranda, resorted to texting. Miranda would have to find her own way home. Her mind immediately volunteered Tyler, but she ignored it.

“I figured that would happen,” Tyler laughed, hollowly. Jack had his eye on Naomi at the bank, it was no surprise he managed to get her to go home with him. If Tyler were any judge of interest, she was fairly interested in his buddy, too.

However, that did present the problem of living arrangements for him. Jack and Tyler decided to share a two-bed motel room. If they had to leave in a hurry, it'd be easier to gather everything from one room. But, it did present a problem when it came to nighttime activities.

Tyler straightened from his stance, shoving his hands into his pockets. His palm itched with tingling sensations. At the back of his mind, wishful fantasies tagged along his thoughts.

Miranda watched him for a breath. Her body felt raw and cold without his body heat or his hands. She bit at her lip, her eyes dropping to the floor. Naomi was off, having no-strings-attached fun with Tyler's buddy. Enviousness ached in Miranda's thoughts. Why couldn't she do that – have flippant sex with people she barely know and feel good about it?

Her gaze edged to Tyler, again. Miranda pressed her lips together, caution and curiosity colored her thoughts. She couldn't bring herself to leave the roof. What was it Naomi always said when Miranda broke up with someone? Make sure you get it all out of your system, get some closure, and
then
move on. Tyler had been ripped away from her, denying her the chance of closure. Maybe he felt the same way. “Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

Miranda's gaze darted away from his face. His warm gaze made her blood boil. Swallowing, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and hesitantly looked at him. She couldn't bring herself to say what was on her mind. Forcing an awkward smile to her lips, Miranda said, “I need a ride home.”

A bright smile split across Tyler's lips.

CHAPTER FOUR

Tyler silently reveled in Miranda's body pressed against his back. Her arms looped tightly around his torso as his hog roared through the night. The ride was over all too quickly, though. Soon, the chopper glided into Miranda's apartment complex parking lot. He killed the engine after pulling into a spot. A street lamp blared down at them, bathing them in artificial yellow light.

The brick, four-story building loomed over them. The windows alternated, at random, with light and darkness. On the third floor, Tyler spotted the blinds bend open as a nosy neighbor peeped out into the parking lot. Judging from the cars and the upkeep of the landscape, the neighbors were moderately well-off. If memory served, the location was also fairly close to Miranda's childhood home. Faintly, Tyler wondered if her family talked her into this complex.

She held onto him a beat after the engine died. She could hear his heart thumping through his chest while she basked in his body heat. Tyler didn't budge and, faintly, she wondered if he enjoyed it, too. The thought brought unwelcome delight. She pushed herself away from him and scrabbled off his bike. She lifted the helmet off her head, shoving it into Tyler's hands after he stood. “Thanks for the ride.”

Mischief glinted in Tyler's eyes. A smirk curled at his lips and his mouth twitched, as if to say something. A dirty connotation to 'ride' ghosted between them and Miranda's face flushed. For heaven's sakes, it had been ten years! Why was she acting like a schoolgirl with a crush? The coolness of the night gave her no relief either. It just served as a constant reminder to how much Tyler affected her.

“So, going to invite me in?” Tyler teased as he put the helmet away. He knew it was a stretch to hope, but it didn't hurt.

Something in Miranda ignited. A part of her flared in response to his taunting lilt. Like with the ladder when he challenged her. The urge to drag him into her apartment itched along her palms. Her deep-seeded restraint did its best to quash all desires, though.

It wasn't enough. She could feel her inner tease rearing its head. Miranda listed her head to the side, an impish curve to her lips. “What is this, a date?”

Tyler's hope inflated.
Miranda was encouraging him
. Something in her tone of voice, or maybe her eyes, sent a tingle to his groin. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Miranda didn't skirt backward, urging Tyler on. “Well, I
did
buy you drinks and took you on a romantic, moonlit romp.”

Miranda snorted and shook her head. Her skin tingled as he neared closer. “No
romping
happened.”

“Well, the night is still young.”

“Not if you don't walk me to my apartment,” teased Miranda, her eyes half-lidded and a smile on her lips. Before Tyler could retort, she turned on her heel and sauntered up to the door, a bit more sway to her hips than normal. Tyler watched her go, a thrill clawing down his spine. Could he justify this? He left Miranda for her own good, after all.

Practicality and desire warred inside him. Finally, a thought settled in his head. Miranda wanted him to follow. The least he could do was walk her to her door.

As he bolted after Miranda, who had just started her trek up the stairs, he could feel his dark desires roiling within him. The thumping of his footfalls on the stairs punctuated the pounding in his thoughts. Dirty fantasies flamed through his head. Ten years of fantasies burned at his synapses. His fingers itched with an unadulterated urge to touch her. His lips burned to kiss her.

Miranda watched him climb up the last step. There was tension in his body and a glint in his eyes that she had missed. Pressure descended between the two. He wanted her and, deep down, she wanted him. But it wouldn't be easy. Some old part of her had reawakened, but her restraint still put up a fight.

In the silence that followed his last thumping step, the other lives around her blared into her ears. Down the hall, two dogs were yipping back and forth from adjacent apartments. The scent of burnt lasagna wafted from another apartment. A baby cried, elsewhere. Usually, Miranda noticed every sound and shift of the complex. Right now, though, her attention was on the redhead and his burning gaze. As he neared, Miranda smiled coyly and fussed with her hair, like a date waiting for something. “Thanks for the lovely evening.”

“No kiss?” The corners of his lips twitched. She was going to play
this
game. Well, he enjoyed chasing her a little. After ten years, she deserved to be pursued, if that's what she wanted.

Miranda pursed her lips, playfully, and turned to her door. Inside, her body warmed and quivered. Over her shoulder, she airily replied, “If you have to ask, you know the answer.”

“So,” Tyler leaned forward, planting his hand on the door just as she slid her key into the lock, “I should
take
a kiss.”

Miranda turned her face toward him, shooting him a look. Beyond the look, though, eagerness glistened. Heat and tension strung taut between them, making Tyler's grin broaden. She grunted noncommittally, turning quickly back to the door. Tyler swallowed his grin as a blush pinked the corners of her cheeks. He could see the familiar heat simmering in her eyes.

And – oh – did Miranda truly experience that recognizable fiery lick of hormones. Every time Tyler's gaze caught hers, she had to suppress her eagerness. Warmth pooled in her stomach, threatening to dissolve her from the inside out.

Tyler chuckled and caught Miranda by her chin. He forced her head back, locking gazes with her. His lips swept down, closer and closer. Miranda coiled in anticipation. The sounds of the apartment complex died away, leaving only the two of them. He paused a millimeter from her lips. He could hear the exasperated groan in her thoughts as he teasingly purred, “Well, it's been fun, Mir.”

He pulled away almost as quickly as he neared her. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Tyler made to move toward the end of the hall. Miranda's exasperated huff. The stomp of her foot stopped him. “Ugh,
Tyler
.”

“Sorry. I didn't get a yes.” Tyler's grin grew as he threw Miranda a cheeky wink. He dallied close to the edge of the hall, letting the threat of his departure hang in the air.

Miranda sighed and crossed her arms, her lips curling into a borderline pout, “You're so difficult.”

“And you're a tease,” he pointed at her. Despite the happy heat thrumming inside him, memories washed over his thoughts. This was how their relationship always was. Playful teasing, making each other work for the prize, jibes. Tyler missed it, immensely. But, there were dark reminders – of past and present predicaments - lurking at the corners of his thoughts. His grin drained away as he hastily added, “
And
you're my ex. Unless you want a one-night stand, I should probably go.”

There was no way in a million years Miranda would agree to a fling. He was in the clear. Tyler turned toward the exit, but something in him bade him to linger.

If the fling were with anyone other than Tyler, she would have let him go. But, her mind hinged on 'closure' and her hormones cheered it on – one last night to feel his body, to feel his breath hot on her throat and his teeth raking over her skin, to have him fill her, one last time. Miranda's body ached at the very thoughts. In a flat, matter-of-fact tone, she answered him, “I know.”

“What?” Tyler's eyes widened, shock and surprise rollicked through his thoughts. Heat coiled in his core and anticipation lit across his nerves.

“What we had is gone, but…” It was a lie. Miranda still felt her fondness, her love, for Tyler. She wrote it off as residual leftovers from his abrupt departure. She struggled with her words, her gaze falling to her hands. Her fingers tangled into the hem of her shirt, before she shyly peeked up at Tyler. Miranda couldn't believe these words were coming out of her. “We never got a last hoorah, did we?”

“No, we didn't.” Tyler agreed, wholeheartedly. However, if he hadn't left when he had, she would have suffered from their mere association. Ten years had passed, though. Ten long, agonizing years, without her. The heat skimmed across his fingers and warmth sunk into his core. Fantasies he never knew he held shifted before his eyes. He stared at Miranda, his eyes focusing on her: her fingers knotted into the flimsy blouse, her hair tucked back into a bun – begging to be undone – and her eyes seeking his gaze through her long, dark lashes. Everything inside Tyler clenched, before his self-control shattered. He growled to himself, running a hand through his hair, “Fuck it.”

Those two words barely registered in Miranda's mind before Tyler was on her. Her back slammed against her door as his palms cupped her face. His lips ravaged hers, his tongue invading her mouth. She gasped against his kiss, before her eyes fluttered shut. Miranda leaned into Tyler and his hands drifted down her body.

His fingers worked along her sides, enjoying her curves, before doubling back to her breasts. He squeezed and fondled her through her shirt and bra, noting Miranda's nipples were pleasantly hard. Excitement shot to his groin. Miranda whimpered under his touch, her back arching. Tyler let an appreciative groan shudder from his lips. If he didn't get Miranda behind that door, he'd take her right there in the hallway.

Miranda seemed to get the hint. In her hormone daze, she rattled the doorknob and managed to open the door. They fell into her apartment, never breaking the kiss. Tyler kicked the door shut behind him before he swung her around, slamming her back against the door. A shocked gasp escaped her lips and Tyler pulled away from this kiss.

His lips worked their way down her throat, enjoying the taste of her skin and her warmth against his tongue. Her surprise slipped away and her hands found their way to his hair. As her fingers threaded through his tresses, she massaged his scalp. A delighted groan left Tyler's lips and vibrated down to her very core. She squirmed under his hot breath and his increasingly rough nibbles.

He leaned back as his fingers found their way to her blouse. Miranda threw a curious look at him, just before his wrists flicked. Thread tore, buttons clattered to the floor, Miranda gasped as a thrill shot down her spine. Her blouse lay open, showing off her favorite pink lace bra, the buttons scattered at her feet.

“Hoping for a fun night with your date?” Tyler asked as dark possessiveness lit across his thoughts. He didn't want to imagine Miranda hoping to bring one of those douches home. His hands trailed up her sides and his thumbs skirted over the fabric right over her nipples.

Miranda whimpered, her face burned and her breathing hitched. Tyler had barely done anything; how could he affect her so thoroughly? He palmed her breasts through the fabric of her bra, groping roughly. She sputtered an indiscernible answer between her gasps and whimpers. Would he believe she put her undergarments on, thinking of him? Sensual excitement flung to every part of her body, her nerves sizzled and tingled. Against her thigh, Miranda noticed his cock pushed into her through his jeans. She felt it throb and twitch against her, as if it wanted to break out of its confines.

Tyler found it hard to contain himself. The gasps, the whimpers, the slight squirms. Miranda's reactions drove him wild. His fingers worked at her breasts until her nipples stood to attention through the fabric.

He wanted more, though. The skirt she wore gave him just enough view of her legs to steer his desire away from her still covered breasts.

With little warning, he spun her around. His hands fell down to her outer thighs while his fingernails scraped along her thigh-high stockings. She shuddered, the sensations against her tights vibrated down her legs and up to her core. Her fingers curled against the door as she swallowed down small mewls.

She was against her front door, which led into the hallway. People came in and out all the time, pounding through the hallway. Someone was bound to hear her. A small part of her shuddered in delight at the prospect, though.

Tyler's hands drifted back up her thighs. He hiked up her skirt, revealing her matching pink underwear. His palms drifted over her ass, admiring the silky undergarments with a pleased growl. Miranda's heart thudded in her chest, anticipation skirting along her thoughts. Tyler hunched over her, his chest flush against her back. She bit her lip as one hand gradually edged beneath the front of her panties. His other hand drifted upwards, burrowing under her bra.

His palm massaged against her breast as his fingers deftly traced along her lower lips through the panties. A mewl of pleasure echoed from her throat. She screwed her eyes shut, the sensations overtaking her body. His rough palm, groping her tit with bruising force, juxtaposed against his gentle fingertips as they explored her folds. Tyler's fingertips ghosted over her swollen clit and hot waves of pleasure crashed into Miranda's core. Her whimpering escalated, her fingernails digging into the wood of her door.