Headed for Trouble (The McKay Family #1) (29 page)

BOOK: Headed for Trouble (The McKay Family #1)
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“You’ll have to do better than that,” Ella Sue said in a low voice as she walked past him.

Ian cleared his throat. “Neve.”

She lifted a brow. “Ian.”

Lovely. He remembered her name—and he still knew his name, because that was his name she’d just said and he’d recognized the sound of it on her lips. Now he wanted to hear the sound of it as she moaned it, preferably as she lay underneath him after he’d stripped that shimmery green silk away—

Her heels clicked on the floor and he gave himself a mental kick in the arse.

“You look…” The spit in his mouth had dried up on him. He cleared his throat again. “Lovely. You look lovely.”

And he sounded like an oaf. A stupid oaf.

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“Neve, I think this is the first time I’ve seen that charmer struck speechless,” Ella Sue said, laughter in her voice.

Ian could almost feel the blood rushing up to stain his cheeks red. He couldn’t think of a time when he’d been more thankful for the fact that he had a beard. It hid a fair amount of his face. And he hid the rest of it by grabbing Neve’s hand and bending over it, pressing his lips to the back of it in a light kiss. “Well, if a man’s to be struck speechless over anything,” he murmured. “Why shouldn’t it be because of a beautiful woman?”

“Oh, that was smooth.”

Moira’s voice drifted down from the second-floor balcony and he straightened, looking past Neve to see the eldest McKay watching him. She was grinning, practically
laughing
at him. He could see it. And if she’d been much closer, he just might have kissed her, because that amusement helped drag his head back down to earth. “Good evening, Moira. And how are you doing, if I may ask?”

“Oh, ask away.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t have a sexy Scot here to romance me, but I’m not doing too bad, overall.”

He wagged his eyebrows at her. “I’m free tomorrow.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Moira said dryly. “You all have a good night. I’ve got a hot date with an inventory spreadsheet and my museum plans. Oh … and a bottle of muscadine fresh from Brannon’s winery.”

“How you drink that sugar is a mystery.” Ian gave a mock shudder. Feeling steadier, he looked back at Neve. And felt that sucker punch all over again. He swallowed the knot that seemed to take up the whole of his throat and managed to smile. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She took a purse from the table nearby. “Let’s go before Ella Sue decides to try and give me a curfew.”

“I heard that,” the older woman said from across the brightly lit foyer.

Neve’s laugh echoed off the walls and brought a smile to Ian’s face.

The sound of her laugh … he thought he could get used to hearing it. Yes. Yes, he thought he could.

*   *   *

“Um.” Neve blinked at the bike. Then she looked down at her skirt. “This might be a problem.”

“No, it won’t.” Ian climbed and gestured behind him. Then he grinned. “Well, you might flash some leg. I don’t mind if you do. But other than that…?”

“Won’t it get in the way?” she asked doubtfully, moving closer.

“It’s a petticoat you’ve got on under there, right?” He shrugged. “You’ll just hitch up your skirts some as you get on and then tuck it around you. But if you want to change or maybe take a car from the garage?” A wicked gleam lit his eyes. “I’ve always wanted to take one of Brannon’s toys out for a spin.”

Neve rolled her eyes. “He’d have my ass.” That alone was enough to make her consider it, but in the end, she gave in to temptation. The temptation of riding so close to Ian. “Let’s see if I can manage this first.”

It wasn’t hard, though, she realized.

Managing Ian though? He
was
hard.

Everywhere.

She swallowed at the feel of his muscled thighs pressed against her nearly naked ones after he helped tuck the skirt down around her. He ended up taking some of the skirt and sitting on it, trapping her behind him. They tucked the rest of the material between their respective legs and he said, “See? Easy.”

Easy…?

She leaned in, pressing her legs to his to help keep the dress down and he started the bike. This was a lot of things but
easy
wasn’t one of them.

A low moan rose in her throat as he pulled away from the house.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” she said, raising her voice.

Nothing … nothing at all. Just me trying to keep from turning into a pitiful mess of hormones.

*   *   *

“Gideon taught me to fish here.”

“Did he now?” They’d decided against a movie—the closest theater was a thirty-minute drive away, so after dinner, Ian had driven Neve to the river. He’d turned the bike off and put it on its stand, but she made no move to climb off and he was quite fine as he was, the warmth of her snug against his back, her breath teasing his neck. He slid a hand back, rested on her thigh.

Through the silk of her dress, he could feel the warm, elegant length of her thigh.

He wanted to touch.

So fucking bad.

All throughout dinner, throughout the leisurely drive through town.

Now …

She gave a shaky sigh and relaxed against his back, her brow pressing to the back of his neck.

He spread his fingers wide and caught the fussy, flouncy silk of her dress and eased it higher. “I’ve driven myself half mad, thinking about touching you again, Miss Neve. Touching you … tasting you.”

She had one hand on his waist and at his words, she tightened her fingers. “Is that a fact?”

“That’s a fact.” He turned his head, angling his body just slightly.

She met him more than halfway, one palm coming up to cup his cheek.

The soft night air wrapped around them, the breeze coming off the river blowing her hair so that it teased his cheek. He wanted to tangle his hands in it, feel the strands slipping across his chest, his belly.

In the dim light, he could see her eyes, misty and pale, soft and green, as she slid a look down to his mouth.

A groan ripped out of him.

She sighed, the sound low and soft.

Turn around, you fool. Just drive on back to the house with her. Thank her for a lovely time and beg her to go out with you again. Soon.

It wasn’t a bad plan, even the begging. He could see himself on his knees in front of her for a great many things, her attention just one of them. But as he went to turn back around, she increased the pressure on his cheek and then leaned in.

His heart lunged against his rib cage, beating like a caged beast as Neve brushed her lips across his. It was a sweet kiss. Soft, simple, and sweet, and he could have been quite happy with just that—even though his cock pulsed and throbbed, already demanding more.

But Neve licked at the entrance to his mouth and he could practically hear one tiny crack, then another and another—he thought it was the steely wall of his control that he’d wrapped around himself all night. And it was shattering, crumbling to nothing under Neve’s light, almost delicate kiss.

When she slid her hand back to his neck and tightened her fingers, he covered her palm with his, twisting more to meet her kiss. She sucked his tongue into her mouth and he thought maybe he’d just died. Died and gone to heaven.

Or maybe this was hell … and all of this was punishment, a tempting sweet pleasure that would be yanked away—

Neve whimpered and lifted up slightly, straining to get closer.

Fuck this
.

Ian pulled away and then half turned, scooping her onto his lap. Her startled gasp was smothered against his mouth as he cupped her chin and once more, had himself a taste of Neve McKay.

Sweet.

That’s what she was.

Sweet and sinful and seductive … and shy. He could feel it, taste it in the hesitant way she slowly relaxed against him. Shy, but not scared. He’d cut off his arm before he let himself scare her and he’d hold himself to that promise, too.

Silk slithered and whispered as she twisted around until she was straddling him, her knees gripping at his hips as she rocked against him. It sent him straight into glory, he knew it did. Ian cupped her bottom and tugged her closer as he moved.

A harsh choked noise left her lips and she tore away, her head falling back. She stared blindly up at the sky as she rocked against him again. He traced his fingers across the slope of her breasts, framed so prettily by the bodice of the dress she wore. “I do love this dress, Neve,” he murmured.

She said nothing.

Pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, he asked softly, “Should I stop?”

“What’s the other option?”

The smile on her face wobbled a little, but the look in her eyes was steady as she slid her hands down his chest.

“Ah, Neve. I thought you’d never ask.”

*   *   *

The other option was …
bliss
.

Neve clutched at Ian as he skimmed his fingers up her back, the calluses rough along her skin. When he caught the zipper and gave it a light tug, almost as if asking permission, she eased forward against his chest, hoping he’d follow the cue.

She was lousy at this.

Ian certainly wasn’t. His lips brushed over her brow as he tugged the zipper down, only partway and she felt blood rising to stain her cheeks when he eased her back, his gaze slipping from her face to move down.

She’d stood naked in front of more than a few people during her abbreviated modeling career, but there was something entirely different about the way
he
looked at her.

He dipped his head and she shivered as he trailed his lips down her throat. “I want to see you naked in my bed, Neve,” he murmured. “I want that very much.”

The words, whispered against her skin, sent a shiver racing through her. She curled her hands around the back of his head, holding him tight when he caught a patch of skin between his teeth and sucked.

She sat astride him on the bike and almost every time she breathed, she felt the pulse of his cock against her. He braced an arm behind her and arched her back, his mouth still brushing over her skin. “I…” she swallowed. “I don’t think I want to wait that long.”

Ian stilled.

He lifted his head and stared at her, his pale eyes glinting, shadows thrown across his face. They were in the darkest part of the small, pitted excuse of a parking lot. It wasn’t even a lot, just a square of gravel. This spot by the river wasn’t unknown, but people didn’t often head out this way, miles past town and too out of the way for much of anything other than fishing.

Only the faint silvery light from the moon filtering through the trees provided any light and she could see the way his lips parted, his teeth white against the darkness of his beard. “Wait how long?”

“To get to your bed.” She’d been caught in a fog of need ever since he’d looked up at her, a slightly stunned look on his face. Although if she was honest, she’d admit to herself that she’d felt caught by
him
pretty much since that first night.

When she was with Ian, fear didn’t guide her actions and she loved it.

When she was with Ian, she felt like …
herself
. She felt like herself in a way that she hadn’t in far too long, maybe forever.

Sliding her hand up, she pressed it against his cheek, feeling the soft, neat growth of his beard against her palm and the warmth of his skin higher up where her fingers brushed his temple. “I’ve never had sex on a motorcycle, but I’ve heard it’s possible.”

A wicked grin curled his lips and he straightened, tugging her up close against him. Her dress drooped, the straps slipping down her shoulders and now she was keenly aware of the hardness of his chest. “Aye, it’s possible.” Then he gave her an innocent smile. “Not that I know from experience.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Have you had sex on this bike?”

“Nooo.” He drew it out, then leaned in and nipped her lip. “But I’d be happy to remedy that, if you like.”

Throat tight, she turned her face to his. She hoped he recognized her kiss for what it was because she’d gotten really, really bad at asking for anything.

His mouth opened under hers and she sensed the difference. He’d held himself back before and now … she trembled under the intensity of the kiss, a kiss that stole her breath away and made her wonder if she knew anything at all about kissing.

No man had ever kissed her like this.

His hands cradled her face, held like she was something treasured and adored, while his tongue rubbed against hers in a taunting, sinuous play. His touch was careful—his kiss was carnal—and the contrast between the two had her mind spinning and whirling.

When he skipped his fingers down to toy with the straps, she tore her mouth away, sucking in desperate breaths of air.

“Should I stop?”

“Hell, no.”

He chuckled and eased the straps the rest of the way down, even as he cast a look around. “I’ve never been here. How likely is it that somebody will pass by, Neve?”

“Not.” She struggled to think as his hands closed over her rib cage, his thumbs stroking the undersides of her breasts. “Never was a busy place. Well…” She swallowed. “Then.”

He cupped her chin and tilted her head back. The smile on his face was pure, unadulterated heat and she could feel an answer licking up her core. “And you don’t want me to stop?”

“I don’t think so.”

He didn’t question that and she was glad.

She was even gladder when his mouth came to hers and he started to kiss her, more of those deep, drugging kisses that stole the strength of her limbs and turned everything inside her to molten lava. One hand moved at her back but she didn’t realize what he’d been doing until she felt his hands on her naked breasts. Instinctively, she tensed.

“You’re lovely, sweet Neve,” he murmured, his mouth easing away from hers. “I want to look at you. D’you mind?”

She nervously shook her head and held herself rigid as he eased her back.

“Now that’s pretty,” he muttered, his gaze rapt on her.

Instinctively, she glanced down. Dazed, mystifying heat swamped her as she saw his hands, so dark compared to her skin, plump up her breasts. Still rigid with tension, she tried to relax. She’d never much liked it when William had touched her breasts, even before he’d shown his true colors—then fumbling tugs had gone to hard tweaks and cruel pulls.

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