His jaw tightened in growing aggravation, and he jammed his hands onto his hips, wondering how in the hell this one woman could push all his hot buttons. She had him tied up in knots on so many levels. Emotionally. Physically. Sexually. All because he wanted her soft and naked beneath him, in a variety of ways. God, why couldn't she be the kind of woman he could just fuck, get out of his system, and forget?

But he instinctively knew there would be no forgetting Lora Marshall, and not just because she was Zach's sister.

He answered her question, using the direct, no-nonsense, male approach so there'd be no misunderstanding what he meant. "You want and need all that emotional hearts-and-flowers kind of crap that all women eventually want. I'm not that kind of guy, Lora. I never have been and I never will be."

She stepped toward him and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off before she could say a word. Or touch him again. If she did either, she'd send him right over the edge with no hope of turning back.

"I like living alone," he went on, impatience roughening his voice. "I like my life uncomplicated, and I like being able to come and go as I please. I don't do love, Lora, and don't think that you'll be the one to change me. Many have tried, and all have failed."

Her mouth curved ever so slightly, as if she wasn't thoroughly convinced. "Wow, that's quite a speech."

"It's the truth."

"Okay. Your position has been duly noted." She held up both of her hands, clearly backing off, just as he wanted. Unfortunately, the movement caused her full breasts to lift and bounce, drawing his attention to the front of her snug top and the clear outline of her chilled nipples straining against the fabric.

Heat shot straight to his groin, thick with the aching, pulsing need that constantly smoldered just below the surface when it came to her. Inhaling a steadying breath, he raised his gaze back to her face, ignoring the fact that she'd noticed him staring at her breasts-and didn't seem to mind at all.

Shit. "I think it's time I took you back home," he said gruffly.

Before he said to hell with the moral quandaries surrounding their relationship and succumbed to the awareness enticing him to do all the things he fantasized about doing to her in the dark of the night, he forced himself to turn around and head back to his motorcycle.

But despite his admirable discipline at the moment, Joel feared it was just a matter of time before this particular woman shattered his quickly dwindling willpower.

At least he'd adverted giving in to any temptation for tonight.


THE man was a bundle of contradictions, Lora thought as she watched Joel stalk toward his bike. Pure walking sex with a body made for sin, yet so unconscious of his masculine appeal. Fiercely protective of her, as he'd been earlier in the bar, yet dangerously possessive in a way she found shamelessly exciting.

Then there was the dark hunger in his eyes that clearly stated he wanted her-yet every time she tried to get close enough to indulge in her own desires, he immediately put physical distance between them to keep things platonic. And now, with his lecture about women and relationships, he'd just erected all sorts of emotional walls, too.

What the heck had that been all about, she wondered, feeling confused and baffled by his odd behavior. She didn't understand his resistance when there was so much sexual tension between them just waiting to be explored and exploited to its fullest potential of pleasure. Especially when he'd asked her out on a date-yet had spent most of the evening avoiding any one-one-one contact with her.

It was as though he was fighting himself and what he truly wanted. She didn't know why, but considering he'd made it clear during their discussion that he only wanted one thing from a woman, she figured they were pretty much on the same page. She had her own reasons for not getting tangled up in a committed relationship right now, but what was wrong with the two of them enjoying a bit of sexy fun?

As he slid onto his bike and reached for his gloves, Lora decided it was time to go after what she wanted. Time to really shake Joel up and let him know she'd more than welcome some one-on-one attention. Obviously, the seductive, flirtatious cues she'd been tossing his way all night long hadn't done the trick, so she needed to ratchet up her efforts.

He glanced her way, frowning when he found her still standing where he'd left her. "Let's go."

It was a brusque order, tinged with impatience to match his restless need to get out of this secluded area with her. She started toward him, adding a slow, purposeful sway to her hips as she walked-like a woman on a sensual mission who wouldn't be dissuaded. Not this time, at least.

"I'm not ready to go back home." The anticipation of executing her plan infused her voice with a low, husky quality.

His gaze, so dark and intense, narrowed at her, as if he was trying to figure out exactly what she was up to. "It's late."

"It's Saturday, and the night is still young." Before he realized her intent, she slid her hip onto the leather seat in front of him, between his spread thighs. Then she plucked the gloves from his grasp before he could put them on, and tossed them aside.

Lifting her hand, she caressed her palm along the taut line of his strong, firm jaw, trying to ease the tension vibrating off his entire body. "Besides, I don't have a curfew. Do you?"

He didn't touch her as Lora ached for him to. In fact, he went to great pains to make certain he kept his hands to himself, even though she was practically draped across his lap, his for the taking.

"Lora-"

She silenced his oncoming protest with her fingers against his mouth. His lips were so warm and pliant and tempting, and all she could think about was tasting him and making that precious control of his shatter. Feeling the barely leashed aggression beneath his reserve, along with the solid length of his shaft pressing against her hip, she knew she was close to doing just that.

Lora's greatest wish was to be ravished by this man, except he didn't seem willing to oblige, and that meant she'd have to do the persuading, and the seducing. "I've been dying to kiss you," she whispered as she eased her right leg over the bike so that she was facing Joel, her legs draped atop his muscled thighs in a position that was oh-so-intimate. "Really kiss you. Slow, and long, and deep."

Sinking her fingers into the soft, richly textured hair at the nape of his neck, she lowered her mouth to steal one of those kisses, but right before her lips made contact with his, he jerked his head back.

She sighed. His reaction was disappointing, of course, but Lora wasn't completely surprised, considering he'd been thwarting her attempts to get close to him all night long. But she wasn't discouraged, and she didn't take his rejection personally, not when he was staring at her with eyes that were dark and tormented with wanting, and the struggle within him was nearly palpable. The big question was, why was he still denying her, and himself?

Since her bold and assertive advance hadn't worked, she opted to handle the situation by taking a more humorous approach that would undoubtedly get some kind of reaction out of him.

She tipped her head to the side and schooled her features into a mask of seriousness. "Are you gay?" she asked, even though the fierce erection straining against the fly of his jeans made his sexual orientation a non-issue. Still, the transformation in Joel-from controlled and collected to severe shock-was too comical, and she had to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing out loud.

"Jesus! Of course I'm not gay!" Joel stared at her in horror, his expression appalled. "What in the hell would make you ask that?" he demanded.

Clearly, he wasn't amused by her question, but she was enjoying herself, and his response, immensely. Enough so that she decided to keep up the pretense a bit longer. "Well, you've been avoiding any kind of physical contact between the two of us, and you don't seem very interested in kissing me." She sighed, trying to sound and look dejected. "Do I just not do it for you?"

He exhaled a long, harsh breath and curled his hands into tight fists at his sides, still not allowing himself to touch her. "I've got a goddamn raging hard-on that states otherwise."

"Yeah, you do," she agreed as she stroked her palms up his jean-clad thighs until her fingers grazed that very impressive bulge. "So, since we've established that I do turn you on, what's the problem?"

"I'm trying to be chivalrous," he said through clenched teeth.

"Who asked you to be?" Certainly not her! God, she was doing everything in her power to entice him, all to no avail. "Not only does chivalry not suit that risk-taking personality of yours, but you strike me as the type of guy who has no qualms about taking what a woman offers, no questions asked. So why are you fighting what we both want so badly?"

Pale moonlight washed across his gorgeous features and gleamed off his black-as-midnight hair, making him appear every inch the rebel. But it was the candid, caring look in his eyes that captured her attention the most and made her realize just how serious this moment was to him.

"Because I don't think I can stop at just one kiss," he told her.

His words were so real and honest, they made her heart skip a beat to think he found her that irresistible. "I guess that's a risk I'll just have to take."

Smiling, she leaned toward him and nipped gently at his bottom lip, teasing him with the promise of something hotter, deeper, sweeter. "Kiss me, Joel," she breathed against the corner of his mouth while she brazenly tugged his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans so she could slip her hands beneath the warm, soft cotton material. "Touch me," she urged as she splayed her palms on his rock-hard stomach and glided them upward, aching to feel his hands on her, too. "Take me, please."

A low, untamed growl ripped from his chest, and that stubborn, unyielding control of his finally, finally, gave way to all the pent-up desire and hunger he'd been struggling against all evening long. His hands, which had been so idle before, now came up and tangled in her hair, and in the next moment he crushed his mouth to hers. Her lips parted on a gasp of surprise, and he took advantage and slid his tongue inside, reckless and demanding, sweeping every one of her senses into overload.

His response was absolutely, positively heavenly.

She'd managed to unleash his lust, and now all that alpha male aggression was spilling over into the hottest, most erotic kiss she'd ever had the pleasure of receiving. Returning the kiss with equal abandon, she wrapped her arms around his waist beneath his T-shirt and jacket, trying to get as close to him as she could.

Judging by the restless shift of his body against hers, he seemed to want the same thing. She felt the impatient tug of the scarf from around her neck as he unraveled the strip of knitted material and let it drop to the ground, revealing her neck to the chilly evening air. She shivered, then moaned in pure delight when he buried his face against her throat and warmed her skin with his breath and the hot, damp press of his lips nuzzling just beneath her jaw.

Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back to give his mouth better access, while one of his hands skimmed down her back to the base of her spine and the other gave a gentle tug to the snaps securing the front of her top. One, two, three, four… they popped open, exposing her bra and the full upper swells of flesh nearly overflowing the lace-edged cups. He lifted his head, watching as he pushed the stretchy fabric down and released one of her breasts, then the other, to his dark, avid gaze. Her nipples hardened instantly, and he saw that, too.

An involuntary sound escaped her lips, a whimper of need that Joel recognized and understood. He covered both of her bare breasts with his hands, the slight roughness of his palms abrading the sensitive tips as he gently kneaded the soft mounds of flesh. Then the lazy friction of his thumbs joined in on the action, stroking and swirling around her areolas, rasping across her nipples-gentle at first, then harder, firmer, creating a firestorm of sensation that spiraled straight down to the pit of her stomach, and lower.

She groaned, in surrender, in anticipation of feeling his mouth on her. The wanting made her weak. The waiting made her impatient. Sliding her hands into his hair, she pulled his head down and arched her back, silently begging him to take her into his mouth-and ready to strangle him if he refused.