Thorn's Challenge Part 8

"Nothing, unless you're looking for trouble."

She thought about telling him that the only trouble she was looking for was standing right in front of her. Instead she rolled her eyes. "Back off, Thorn. You're beginning to sound like Stone."

He raised a brow. "Stone?"

"Yes, Stone. He's on this big-brother kick."

Thorn met her gaze. "I'm sure he is concerned about your welfare."

"Trust me, I can take care of myself. Now, if you don't mind, will you take a look at my faucet?"

He sighed. "Lead the way."

Thorn wished he could take back those three words when she walked off in front of him. His blood raced fast and furiously through all parts of his body when his gaze slid to her backside. d.a.m.n, her shorts were short. Way too short. And they were as tight as tight could be. She would probably get arrested if she wore something that short and tight out in public. They stopped barely at the end of her cheeks and each step she took showed him a little of a bare behind. When she headed up the stairs he decided to stop her.

"Hey, wait. Where are we going?"

She stopped and glanced back at him over her shoulder. "Up to my room."

He swallowed. "Why?"

Tara turned around and tried to keep her expression bland and innocent. "To fix the leaking faucet in the master bathroom."

Thorn didn't move. He had a.s.sumed she needed the faucet in her kitchen fixed. h.e.l.l, his control would be tested to the limit if he had to go anywhere near her bedroom.

"Is there something wrong, Thorn?"

Yes, there's a lot of things wrong, and two years of abstinence heads the list, he thought. He reached down within to drum up some self-control that he didn't think he had. "No, there's nothing wrong. Show me the way," he said.

He inhaled slowly as he followed her up the stairs and almost choked on his own breath when he walked into her bedroom. It was decorated in black, silver-gray and mauve, and everything matched-the floral print on the bedcovers, curtains and the loveseat. The room looked like her, feminine and sensuous. Even the huge bed looked like a bed intended for lovemaking more than for sleeping. He could imagine rolling around the sheets with her in that bed.

"The bathroom is this way."

He quickly pushed the thoughts out of his mind as he followed her into the connecting bathroom.

"Do you need my help with anything?" she asked, leaning against the vanity.

His gaze moved from her face to her chest, settling on what could be seen of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s through the thin material of her top. At the moment, the only thing she could do for him was to give him breathing s.p.a.ce. "No, I'll be fine. Just give me a couple of minutes."

"All right. I'll be in my bedroom if you need anything."

He lifted a brow. He'd much prefer it if she went downstairs to the kitchen, as far away from him as she could, but he decided not to tell her that. After all, it wasn't her fault that he wanted to jump her bones.

As soon as she left, he went about checking out her faucet while trying to ignore the sound of her moving around in the bedroom. It didn't take him any time at all to repair the faucet and he was glad of that. Now he could concentrate on getting the h.e.l.l out of here. He worked his way from under her sink and stood. It had been rather quiet in her bedroom for the past couple of minutes and he hoped she was downstairs.

Wrong.

He walked out of the bathroom and saw her standing on the other side of the room wearing nothing but her skimpy top and a pair of black thong panties. Her back was to him, and as soon as he cleared his throat she s.n.a.t.c.hed a short silk robe off the bed and quickly put it on.

Too late. He had seen more than he should have.

"Sorry. I thought you would be a while and decided to change into something comfortable," she said, apologetically, looking down as she tied the belt of her robe around her waist.

He didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. All he could think about was just how much of her naked skin he had seen. d.a.m.n, she looked good in a thong. His entire body began aching.

"Is it fixed?"

Her question reminded him why he was there, but couldn't quite bring him back around. His mind was still glued to the bottom part of her although she was now decently covered. But nothing could erase from his memory what he had seen.

"Well, is it?"

He slowly moved his gaze up to her face, and without thinking twice about what he was doing, he placed his toolbox on the table in her room and quickly crossed the s.p.a.ce separating them. He stood staring at her then took her mouth with his, and she didn't try to resist when he thrust his tongue between her lips, tasting her with a force that shook him to the very core. And when he felt her return his kiss, mating her tongue with his, he totally lost it and began feasting greedily on her mouth.

He felt her tremble as he slid his hand down her body, reached under the short robe, spread her legs apart and then begin moving his hand between them, needing to touch her in the same intimate way he had done before.

Moments later he discovered that wasn't enough. He had to have her. He needed to ease his thick, hot arousal into the very place he was touching.

With his free hand he began undoing his zipper while his mouth continued to plunder hers. Suddenly, she broke off the kiss.

"Thorn, we can't. No protection. The race."

Sanity quickly returned to Thorn with her words. He breathed in deeply and took a step back and rezipped his pants. For a moment he hadn't cared about anything. Nothing had mattered, definitely not the fact he didn't have any protection with him or the fact that he had completely forgotten about his vow of celibacy.

He raked a hand down his face then wished he hadn't done that. She had been primed, ready and wet; her scent was on his hand and made his nostrils flare with wanting and desire. Her scent was woman. Hot, enticing woman.

He closed his eyes for a moment then reopened them as he slowly began backing toward the door. He picked his toolbox off the table. "Your faucet should be working just fine now," he said, huskily. "I'll call you."

And as quick as she could bat an eye, he was gone.

During the following weeks, Tara threw her heart and soul into her work.

After that first attempt, she had discovered that getting Thorn to break his vow of celibacy-finding an opportunity to put her plan into action and getting him to cooperate was not easy.

He had taken her out to dinner several times and they had even gone to the movies together twice, but whenever he returned her home, he deposited her on her doorstep, kissed her goodnight and quickly got on his bike or into his car and took off. Getting under Thorn's skin was turning out to be a monumental task.

A stomach virus that was going around kept her busy as frantic mothers lined the emergency room seeking medical care for their little ones. Twice during the past week she had worked longer hours than she normally did, but Tara was grateful to stay busy.

Nighttime for her was torture at its best. She was restless, her mind returned to the kiss she'd shared with Thorn again and again. In an effort to help her sleep or just to occupy her mind, Delaney had given her plenty of reading materials in the way of romance novels.

That only made matters worse.

She enjoyed reading about how the hero and heroine found their way to everlasting love, but the searing pa.s.sion and profound intimacy the fictional characters shared always left Tara breathless, wondering if things like that could really happen between two people.

Pushing the covers aside, Tara got out of bed. Tonight was one of those nights she felt restless. She had gone to bed early, before eight o'clock, with a book to read, and had tried falling asleep. Instead, it was almost midnight and she was still wide awake.

It was a good thing that she was off work tomorrow. She knew Thorn was spending a lot of time at his shop working on his nephew's motorbike. Tara couldn't wait to see the expression on AJ's face when he received the sporty dirt bike Thorn was building especially for him. She hadn't seen it yet, but according to the brothers it was a sweet piece of machinery. All the Westmoreland men owned motorcycles. At eleven it was time AJ got his.

More than once Tara had thought of using the pretense of wanting to see the dirt bike as an excuse to drop by Thorn's shop unexpectedly again, but each time she got in her car and headed in that direction, she would change her mind and turn around. She'd had lunch with the brothers at Chase's restaurant earlier in the week and they had joked among themselves about how Thorn's mood had gone from bad to worse.

She had sat quietly, eating her meal while listening to their chatter. It seemed they knew the reason for Thorn's mean disposition these days and openly said they wished like h.e.l.l that Bike Week would hurry up and come before he drove them, as well as himself, crazy.

From the conversation around her it appeared Thorn hadn't mentioned to his brothers that she would be going with him to Bike Week, because no one, including Delaney, had mentioned it.

Tara headed for the kitchen, deciding to get a gla.s.s of the iced tea she had made earlier that day. Maybe the drink would cool her off because tonight her body definitely felt hot.

Thorn brought his motorcycle to complete stop and shut off the engine. The lights were still on in Tara's home, which meant she hadn't gone to bed yet. He had worked at the shop until he couldn't get his mind to concentrate on what he was doing. He kept thinking of Tara and what he wanted to do to her.

He'd never gone into a race this tense and restless over a woman before. Usually, one was the last thing on his mind this close to compet.i.tion. This time that was not the case. Now that he knew how she tasted, he couldn't get the sweet flavor of her mouth and her body from his mind. And a day didn't go by when he didn't think about what they'd almost done that day in her bedroom. He had zipped down his pants, been ready to take her right then and there had her words not reclaimed his senses.

And his brothers were making matters worse with that stupid bet of theirs. He had refused to tell them anything; his relationship with Tara was not up for discussion. No one knew about their agreement, and other than the time they'd been seen together at Chase's Super Bowl party, no one knew what was going on with them. He wanted to keep it that way for as long as he could. The family would find out soon enough that she was going to Bike Week.

Earlier, when he'd seen he would not get any work done, he had tossed his tools aside, stripped off his clothes and had taken a shower to cool off his heated body. That hadn't worked. He got dressed and decided to go for a ride on his bike to let the wind and the chilly night air cool him down and take the edge off. But that hadn't worked either.

There was only one way he could relieve what ailed him and he couldn't risk going that far. Breaking his vow of celibacy before the race was not an option. Therefore, with Bike Week only a couple of weeks away, he needed to put as much distance between himself and Tara as possible. She was becoming too much of a temptation. That was why he had made the decision tonight to leave for Daytona earlier than planned and have Tara ride down later with one of his brothers.

The most important thing was that she be in Daytona when the race was over. There was no way he could hang around and run the risk of making love to her. But he was determined to leave them both with something to antic.i.p.ate while he was gone.

Moments later he walked up to her door and rang the doorbell. He knew it was late but he had to see her. His body pulsed with something he had never felt before...urgency.

The sound of her soft voice hummed through the door. "Who is it?"

He took a deep breath and responded. "Thorn."

He watched as the door slowly opened, exposing the surprise on her features. "Thorn, what are you doing here?"

He swallowed as his gaze took in all of her. She was wearing a short silk nightgown that only covered her to midthigh. Her hair was in disarray-as if she had tossed and turned while trying to sleep, and one of the spaghetti straps of her gown hung down off her shoulder. The total picture was ultra-s.e.xy, enticing, a product of any man's fantasy.

"Thorn?"

He blinked, realizing he hadn't answered her question. "There's been a change in my plans about Bike Week and I thought I should share it with you."

He saw the indecision that appeared in her features. It was as if she was trying to make up her mind about whether to let him in. She was probably wondering why he hadn't picked up a phone and called her instead of dropping by unexpectedly.

"I apologize for showing up without calling first, but I wanted to tell you about the change in person," he added, hoping that would explain things to her although he was still confused as to what had driven him to seek her out tonight. All he knew was that he had to be alone with her if only for a few minutes. h.e.l.l, he would take a few seconds if that were all she would spare.

"All right, come in," she said, then stood aside to let him enter.

The moment he walked into her home and closed the door behind him, he was engulfed with desire so thick he was having difficulty breathing. He had to force air through his lungs.

This wasn't normal, but nothing, he reasoned, had been normal for him since he had first laid eyes on Tara. His life hadn't been the same since that day. And watching her bare legs and the way her hips swayed under the nightgown she was wearing as she walked across the room before turning around to face him wasn't helping matters.

For two years he had battled what he had felt for her, his desire, but most importantly, his growing affection. He hadn't wanted to care about her. He hadn't wanted to care about any woman for that matter. Other than his family, his love for motorcycles was the only thing he felt that he needed in his life. But Tara had come into it and messed up things really well. The more he'd found himself attracted to her, the more he had tried to resist, but to no avail.

"Thorn, what is the change in your plans?"

He leaned back against the closed door. "I've decided to leave for Daytona early."

Tara raised an arched brow. "How early?"

"I'm leaving Sunday if I can arrange everything."

"This Sunday?" When he nodded, she said. "That's only three days away. I can't take off work and-"

"And I don't expect you to. I'll talk to one of my brothers about you coming down with them later at the beginning of Bike Week."

"But-but why are you leaving so early?" she asked.

He shifted his helmet to his other hand, thinking there was no way he could tell her the absolute truth. So instead he said. "There are a few things I need to do to get ready for the race, like getting my mind in check," he said, which wasn't a total lie. With any type of race, concentration was the key and he couldn't do it here, not in the same town where she lived.

He placed his helmet on the table. "Tara?"

She met his gaze. "Yes?"

He held out his hand to her. "Come here," he said in a voice he didn't recognize as his own. The only thing he did recognize and acknowledged was his need to touch her, to taste her and hold her in his arms. Two weeks without seeing her would be absolute torture for him.

He watched her stare at his outstretched hand, moments longer than he had hoped, before she slowly closed the distance that separated them, taking his fingers and entwining them with her smaller ones. The heat from her touch was automatic. Sensual heat moved from his hand and quickly spread throughout his body. Even his blood simmered with their touch. He gently pulled her to him, letting her body come to rest against the hardness of his.

"Do you have any idea how much I want you, Tara?" he asked huskily, his lips only a few inches from hers.

Desire formed in her eyes before she said softly, "Yes, I think I do."

"I want you to know for certain. The moment you step foot in Daytona I want you to know just what to expect after the race is over and I turn my full attention to you. I don't want you to be surprised at the magnitude of my hunger and desire, and I want to give you a sample of what is to come. May I?"

As far as she was concerned he had given her plenty of samples already and she had a pretty good idea what she was in for. But still, the very thought that he asked permission almost made Tara come apart then and there. With all his roughness, and even when he'd been in his worse mood, Thorn had always remained a gentleman in his dealings with her. Sensuous, irresistible and s.e.xy, yet a gentleman just the same.

Tara swallowed the lump in her throat, not knowing what she should do or more importantly, what she should say. If she granted him what he wanted, it wouldn't help matters where she was concerned. She was in the thick of things and didn't see a way out, not with Thorn hightailing it out of town on Sunday. With him leaving for Daytona earlier than planned, there was no way she could tempt him the way she needed in order to get him to call off their agreement. He would expect her to keep her end of the bargain and give him the week she had promised him.

But then she decided she had to be completely honest with herself and admit that she wanted that week, as well. Thorn Westmoreland had needs and a part of her could not imagine him making love to another woman. She refused to think about that. And standing before him now, she knew why.

She was in love with him.

The thought that he could end up hurting her the way Derrick had made her want to cover her heart and protect it from pain, to escape into her bedroom and hide. But it was too late for that. She had tried avoiding Thorn for two years, had tried protecting her heart and her soul from him. Yet in the end, he had gotten them anyway. He had asked her if she knew how much he wanted her; well she had a question for him. Did he have any idea how much she loved him?

However, that was a question she couldn't ask him.

Before getting lost in deep thoughts of how much she loved him, she decided to turn her attention back to the issue at hand. She met his gaze and knew he was waiting for an answer to his question of whether or not he could give her a sample of what was to come. And she would give him the only answer she could; there was no way she could deny his request. "Yes, you may."

Wordlessly, without wasting any time, in the next moment, the next breath, he covered her lips with his. He immediately deepened the kiss and she automatically draped her arms around his neck for support. He pulled her closer to him, molding both his mouth and his body to hers as his hands stroked downward, cupping her behind and pulling her closer.

Thorn's mouth fed off hers; he was like the hungriest of men, ravaging, taking possession. In a way this was different from all their other kisses, and for a second she felt his control slipping as the kiss became more intense. When she felt weak in the knees, he picked up her into his arms and carried her over to the sofa and sat down with her in his lap.