She clung to the motorcycle, moaning and mewling, grinding her ass against him, arching as he tore her sweater and bra off. The cold air sliced over her skin, and he palmed her breasts, squeezing her nipples so hard she felt it between her legs. “Oh God. Diesel. I need you.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. He entered her in one hard thrust, sending her belly to the leather seat, and she loved it. She wanted it harder, deeper, rougher. She wanted him wild and free. “Fuck me, Diesel. Don’t hold back.”

He bent over her, his fingers curling tight and possessive over her ribs, and he placed the tenderest of kisses to her shoulder. She glanced over that shoulder, and he lifted lust-drenched eyes and a wicked grin that made her insides catch fire, and then he took her harder, faster, rougher, shaking the motorcycle with each blissful invasion. His teeth found her neck, and holy mother of orgasms, sensations charged through her like a stampede, obliterating her ability to do anything more than hang on and take everything he had to give—and she fucking loved it. Thunder and lightning crashed inside her, burning, seizing, ravaging, and just as she hit the peak, he gritted out her name, following her into the storm with renewed power. Their bodies jerked and thrust, sounds of their lovemaking mixing with the sound of the bike jarring with every piston of his hips. Their cries of passion carried in the breeze, easing as they came back down to earth.

He kissed her shoulder, cheek, and neck. His strong arms embraced her, and his greedy hands cupped her breasts again. “God, Trace. Sex with you should be illegal.”

She giggled.

He rose to his full height, turning her in his arms, kissing her slowly and sensually. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She shook her head, so drunk on him she felt like she was floating.

“Good.” He kissed her again, sweet and tender, and then he dressed her, before pulling up his jeans. With an arm securely around her, he led her to the cabin. “Because now that we’ve taken the edge off, I’m going to make love to you all night long.”

“Did you just say make love?” she teased as he unlocked the door. “Who are you?”

“The way you screw with my head, I have no idea anymore. But I’ll be fucking Fred Flintstone if it’ll keep you by my side.”

“Fucking Fred won’t keep me by your side.” She sauntered past him into the cabin. “But if you’re into that…”

He glowered, striding toward her like a tiger stalking prey. “You’re in big trouble, sparky.”

She felt giddy. “I was counting on it.”

Chapter Twenty