Thorn's Challenge Part 11

His words gave her pause, and she nervously licked her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. Maybe now was a good time to tell him about her virginal state. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she would get any words out, he kissed her. In the middle of the dance floor he gave her a full-blown, nothing-held-back, full-mouth kiss, just the thing to make her lose all rational thought.

She ignored the catcalls she heard, the whistles, as well as the flashing bulbs from several sport reporters' cameras. Instead, she held on to Thorn to receive the mind-blowing kiss he was giving her.

He reluctantly pulled away when someone tapped him on his shoulder. He glared and turned to meet Dare's amused features. He and Sh.e.l.ly had returned to the dance floor. "You're making a scene, Thorn, and your song stopped playing moments ago. Maybe you ought to take that outside."

"No problem," Thorn said, and without waiting for Tara to say anything, he pulled her across the room and out the door.

Tara s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand from Thorn's the moment Florida's night air hit her in the face, returning her to her senses. "Hold on, Thorn. What do you think you're doing?"

"Taking you somewhere," he said, pulling her out of the doorway to a secluded area.

She refused to move an inch. "Where?"

"To show you my bike."

Tara frowned. "I've seen your bike. I've even ridden on it, remember?"

He smiled. "Not this one. The bike I want to show you is the one I'll be using in the race."

For a moment it seemed as though Tara had forgotten to breathe. She had been around the Westmorelands enough to know how they joked with Thorn about not letting anyone see the bike he would race. Since he owned so many for racing, it was anyone's guess as to which one he would use to compete in any given race.

"But I thought that other than your racing team, no one is supposed to know about which bike you'd be using."

He gave a small shrug as he leaned one shoulder against a brick wall. "Usually that's true, but I want you to see it." He met her gaze. "In fact, I want you to christen it."

Tara lifted a brow. "Christen it? You want me to hit it with a bottle of champagne or something?"

Thorn shook his head and smiled. "No, that would put a dent in it. There's more than one way to christen something. If you come with me, I'll show you another way."

Indecisively, Tara just stared at him, not knowing what she should do. Being somewhere alone with Thorn was not a good idea, especially when he had told her just two days ago that he would be keeping his hands and his lips to himself. Already tonight he had touched her and had kissed her twice and there was no telling what else he had in store.

Evidently she took too long to say anything because he covered the distance separating them, took her face in his hands and lowered his head to capture her lips with his.

Kiss number three, Tara thought, closing her eyes as his mouth totally devoured hers. She shuddered when she felt his hands pull her T-shirt from her shorts and slowly began caressing her bare skin underneath. Her tongue automatically mated with his, relishing in the taste of him.

Moments later, when he released her mouth, she pressed her face to his chest and sighed deeply into his T-shirt. The manly scent of him made her groan at the same time her midsection became flooded with warmth. She felt his hands gently caressing her back as he pulled her closer to him, letting him feel the hardness of the erection that stirred against her belly.

She forced her eyes upward and met his. They were so dark and filled with so much desire it made her tremble. "I thought you said you wouldn't touch me or kiss me, Thorn, until after after the race." the race."

He sighed deeply and reached up to thread his fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her face. "Lord knows I tried, but I don't think I can not touch you or kiss you, Tara," he said truthfully.

A part of him wanted to tell her more. He wanted to let her know that he loved her and that no matter whether he won the race or not, he knew his most valued prize was standing right here in front of him. But he couldn't tell her any of that yet. He would wait and tell her later, when he felt the time was right.

He inclined his head to take a good look at her and let her take a good look at him. "Will you come with me, Tara? I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

Oh, h.e.l.l, Tara thought. Didn't he know she was human, and so far, whatever he'd done to her had been just fine and dandy with her. She couldn't imagine turning him down for anything unless it meant going all the way. She would not allow him to break his vow of celibacy two days before the race, but he was definitely testing her control.

"Tara? Will you come with me?"

Tara heaved an enormous sigh. If he thought she was his sweetest temptation, then he was her most tantalizing weakness. A chocolate bar with almonds had nothing on him.

She leaned back far enough to gaze into his eyes. And she knew at that moment that no matter what he claimed, he intended to do more than show her his bike. But heaven help her, she didn't have the strength to turn and walk away.

Instead she gave him the only answer she could. "Yes, Thorn. I'll go with you."

Tara glanced around, not believing that she was standing in the back of an eighteen-wheeler. Thorn had explained that he used the fifty-three-foot-long semi-tractor trailer whenever he traveled with his bikes. The back of the trailer had been separated into three sections. The back section, the one closer to the ramp style door, was where the bikes were stored. The middle section served as Thorn's office and work area. The third section, the one closest to the cab of the truck, was set up like a mini motor home and included a comfortable-looking bed, a bathroom with a shower, a refrigerator, microwave, television and VCR-all the comforts of home.

After being shown around, Tara decided to play it safe and remain in the section where the motorcycles were stored. She moved around the trailer admiring all the bikes; some she had seen before and others she had not.

"This is the one I'll be racing," Thorn said, getting her attention.

She walked over to stand next to him to check out the motorcycle he was showing her. It was definitely a beauty and she told him so.

"Thanks. I began building it last year." He met her gaze. "It reminds me a lot of you."

Tara lifted a brow. She'd never been compared to a motorcycle before and was curious why it had reminded him of her. "Would you like to explain that one, Thorn?"

He smiled. "Sure. This beauty was designed to be every man's dream as well as fantasy. So were you. She's well-built, with all the right angles and curves, temptation at its best. And so are you." His eyes held hers, shining with blatant desire when he added, "And she gives a man a good, hard ride and there's no doubt in my mind that you'll do the same."

Tara swallowed thickly. She wasn't sure about that. The only riding she'd ever done was on her bicycle, and even then she could have used a lot more practice. She had preferred staying inside the house, playing doctor on her baby dolls.

Having no idea what comment she could make to Thorn's statement, she cleared her throat and pretended to give the immaculate riding machine her full attention.

"Tara?"

The sound of her name from Thorn's lips was like a warm caress, and it sent sensations flowing through her body. "Yes?"

His gaze held hers and the look in his eyes was dark, intense. "Do you want to ride?"

She blinked, wondering if this was a trick question. "Ride?"

He nodded, not breaking eye contact with her. "Yes, ride."

She swallowed again, thickly, then said. "But you've already put your bikes up for the night."

He nodded again. "Yes, but there's another way we can ride while my bike stays right here. I want you to christen it for me. Then there's no doubt in my mind that I'll be a sure winner on Sunday."

Tara released a deep sigh. He was confusing her, which wasn't hard to do when the subject was about s.e.x, considering how little she knew. But she was smart enough to have an idea of what he was suggesting. "You want us to make out on your bike?"

He smiled. "Yes."

Her stomach clenched from his smile and his answer. "Call me crazy for not knowing the answer to this, but is such a thing possible?"

His smile widened. "Anything is possible with us, Tara, and I promise we won't go all the way. I'll take you part of the way, just like the other times." He took a step toward his bike and reached out his hand. "Let me do that, baby."

Tara wondered if he was into self-torture, because any time they made out, it was she who was left satisfied and not he. She couldn't help but wonder what Thorn was getting out of this. "But I won't be doing anything for you. Why are you doing this to yourself? Whenever we come together that way I'm the only one who's satisfied."

He thought about her question, trying to decide the best way to answer it, and decided to be as honest with her as he could. "I get my satisfaction from watching you reach an o.r.g.a.s.m in my arms, Tara. I get a natural stone high knowing that under my ministrations you come apart, lose control and soar to the stars. And right now that's all the satisfaction I need. My time will come later."

There was a question she had to ask him. "When you sent those flowers to me for Valentine's Day, the card read, Be mine. What did you mean?"

In the confines of the trailer, Thorn smelled the way she thought a man was supposed to, masculine, robust and s.e.xy. The warm solid strength of him surrounded her, touched her, and made a foreign need tingle at the juncture of her legs. She swallowed deeply when he reached out and curled a finger beneath her chin and tipped her head back to meet his gaze.

For a moment they just stood there, staring at each other. Then he finally said, "Even if it's for only a week, Tara, I won't take the time we spend together lightly. I know I have no right to ask for exclusiveness beyond that point, but until then, I want to know that no other man is on your mind, in your heart or a part of your soul. When I make love to you, I want you to be mine in every way a woman can belong to a man." And then he lowered his head, and Tara's mouth became his.

She melted into him, into his kiss, into everything that was essentially Thorn Westmoreland. He opened his mouth wider over hers, absorbing any and every sound of pleasure she made. Disregarding the warning bells going off in her head, she clung to him thinking this was where she wanted to be, in his arms, and at the moment, that was all that mattered.

Thorn broke the kiss and lifted her into his arms. She didn't resist him when he sat her in the bike's pa.s.senger seat. Instead of straddling his seat with his back to her, he straddled it facing her, then leaned forward and kissed her.

His hands touched her everywhere before going to her T-shirt. He pulled it off over her head and looked down. He had discovered she wasn't wearing a bra while dancing with her and had been antic.i.p.ating this moment since then. The sight of her hard little nipples thrusting upward made him moan.

Taking her legs he wrapped them around his waist as he eased her back while leaning over and capturing a tight dark bud between his lips, letting his tongue caress it, then sucking greedily, enjoying the taste of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

But there was another taste he wanted. Another taste he needed.

Easing back up he slowly pulled down the zipper of her shorts, then, lifting her hips, he slid them down her body, taking them off completely. He gave an admiring glance to her s.e.xy, black lace panties before taking them off as well.

He reached out and caressed her inner thigh with his fingers, then slowly traced a path across her feminine folds, already wet and hot for him. He lifted her, removed her legs from around his waist and lifted them high on his shoulders.

Then Thorn lifted her to him and leaned forward toward her body, seeking what he wanted the most. No matter how loudly Tara moaned and groaned, his mouth refused to let up as he gave her soul deep pleasure. Her body began trembling uncontrollably while his tongue thrust back and forth inside her, sending her over the edge.

"Thorn-"

"It's okay, baby, let it go," he said, as his fingers momentarily replaced his mouth. "I need to have you this way. When I'm taking the curves with this bike on Sunday, I'm going to remember just how it felt loving you like this. My pleasure is knowing I've given you pleasure."

And he did give her pleasure. Moments after his mouth once again replaced his fingers, she let out a mind-blowing scream and came apart, lost control and soared to the stars in his arms.

Ten.

T ara glanced around at the many spectators in the grandstands. Excitement was all around as everyone waited for the race to begin. She nervously bit her bottom lip as the scent of burnt rubber and fuel exhaust permeated the air. The weather was picture-perfect with sunny skies. It was a beautiful day for a motorcycle race. ara glanced around at the many spectators in the grandstands. Excitement was all around as everyone waited for the race to begin. She nervously bit her bottom lip as the scent of burnt rubber and fuel exhaust permeated the air. The weather was picture-perfect with sunny skies. It was a beautiful day for a motorcycle race.

The Westmoreland brothers had talked to her that morning and had gone out of their way to a.s.sure her that Thorn would be fine. But a part of her still felt antsy. She'd seen the preliminary races and knew how fast the riders would be going. Any incorrect riding technique of braking, cornering, sliding and pa.s.sing could mean injury to a rider.

She tried not to think about the numerous laps around the speedway that Thorn and his bike would be taking, as well as the sharp curves; instead she tried to think about what had happened that night she had "christened" his bike. Even now she blushed thinking about it. Afterward, Thorn had taken her to the hotel and had walked her to her room. He hadn't come inside. Instead he had kissed her tenderly in front of her door before turning to leave.

The next morning he had surprised her when he'd unexpectedly shown up to take her to breakfast. The meal had been delicious and she had enjoyed his company. They avoided discussing anything about the previous night; instead, he had listened while she did most of the talking. She had told him of her plans to visit her family, and he'd said he thought it would be a good idea.

She smiled when she remembered how glad her family had been to see her. Derrick hadn't wasted any time calling everyone he knew to let them know he had seen her at Bike Week with Thorn Westmoreland. Since Thorn was something of a racing celebrity, her parents, siblings and many of their friends in Bunnell, had had a lot of questions about their alleged affair. Her two brothers were still in college and were home for the weekend, and her baby sister was a senior in high school.

In a way she was glad everyone's attention had shifted from her and Derrick and was now focused on her and Thorn's relationship. She'd told anyone who asked-and it seemed just about everybody did-that she and Thorn were seeing each other and had left it at that. She'd let them draw their own conclusions.

Sighing deeply, she glanced down below at Pit Road where the Westmoreland brothers had become part of Thorn's racing team. She couldn't help but admire how they had made this a family affair with each helping out any way he could. Everyone, including her, was sporting a black T-shirt with the colorful huge Thorn-Byrd emblem on the front and back, as well as a matching black Thorn-Byrd cap. Like the other riders, Thorn was dressed in leather. She had seen him from a distance and thought he looked good in his riding outfit.

She thought it would be best if she remained out of sight for now. He had spent the last two days getting psychologically prepared for today's race and she didn't want to do anything to mess with his concentration.

Tomorrow she and Thorn would be heading for West Palm Beach for a week and she didn't want to think about what he had in store for her. Already his luggage had been delivered to her suite. He had told her that night in his eighteen-wheeler that he intended to spend tonight with her at the hotel with a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. And there was no doubt in her mind that he would do that very thing...if he decided to keep her.

She couldn't help remembering what Delaney had told her about Jamal's reaction when he'd discovered she was a virgin right in the middle of their lovemaking. Delaney had decided not to tell Jamal beforehand, but let him find out for himself. According to Delaney, Prince Jamal Ari Yasir had been angrier than h.e.l.l, but had soon gotten over it with a little female persuasion.

Tara couldn't help wondering if Thorn would get over it. Unlike Delaney, Tara planned to remove the element of surprise and tell him before anything got started. Considering his current state of mind after having being celibate for almost two years, she prayed he wouldn't be too upset by her news.

The announcer's loud voice over the intercom drowned out any further thoughts, and she settled back in her seat and smiled at Sh.e.l.ly, who was sitting next to her. Nervousness and anxiety laced with excitement raced down her spine. The green flag was dropped and the race began.

Everyone was on their feet as the cyclists rounded the curve, making the last lap around Lake Lloyd. Tara and Sh.e.l.ly had left their seats in the stands to join the Westmoreland brothers on Pit Road. Thorn's bike had performed with the precision that everyone had expected. There had been no mechanical problems such as those that had caused a number of other riders to drop from compet.i.tion.

Thorn was three bikes behind, but the Thorn-Byrd was holding its own as the bikers made their way down the final stretch. Coming in fourth wouldn't be so bad, Tara thought, although according to Chase, this was Thorn's sixth time competing in this particular race, and he was determined to come home a winner this time.

All of a sudden Dare let out a humongous yell of excitement and started jumping up and down. The other Westmoreland brothers joined him, screaming at the tops of their lungs.

Tara squinted against the glare from the sun to see what had caused all the commotion. Using the binoculars she'd borrowed from Storm, she watched the proceedings unfold. Thorn was beginning to gain ground in a big way. He began moving forward as the bikers headed toward the finish line. The grandstands erupted into pure exhilaration as everyone focused their attention on motorcycle number thirty-four, Thorn and the Thorn-Byrd, as man and machine took center stage and eased past the bikes holding the second and third position coming neck to neck with the cyclist in the lead.

"Come on, Thorn, you can do it," Dare screamed, as if his brother would be able to hear him across the width of the track.

And then it happened: Thorn appeared to be giving the Thorn-Byrd all he had as man and machine inched past bike one and took the lead.

Tara's breath caught in her throat. Thorn had given the spectators at Daytona International Speedway something to talk about for years to come. Everyone was screaming as Thorn crossed the finish line, becoming the winner of this year's Bike Week.

Thorn barely had time to bring the Thorn-Byrd to a stop when everyone descended upon him. A reporter from CNN was there with the first question after a round of congratulations.

"Thorn, after six years of competing, you've finally won your first Daytona Speedway Bike Week, how do you feel?"

Thorn smiled. Thinking it wouldn't be appropriate to answer, "still h.o.r.n.y," instead, he said, "It feels wonderful." He glanced around for Tara; though he didn't see her anywhere, somehow he felt her presence and knew Dare would follow his instructions to the letter.

"That was an excellent display of skill and sportsmanship when you took over the lead. What was the main thing on your mind as you inched your way across the finish line?"

Again, Thorn thought it wouldn't be kosher to give a truthful answer, at least not one with all the full details. His thoughts and emotions were too consumed with a certain woman. He smiled at the reporter and responded truthfully. "My woman."