Taboo Kisses (3 page)

Stop
!

The voice belonged to Maddox.

I broke the kiss and my fingers went to my lips.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, brushing my cheek with his fingertips.

“No. It’s not about you.”

“Maddox?”

“Yes.” And Gemma, who’d shun me forever.

“Don’t you think you should let yourself move on?”

I didn’t answer.

He exhaled, his shoulders slumping. “Do I take you home?”

Back to my life of reading books, watching documentaries, and gorging myself on comfort food? I didn’t have to give it much thought. “No.”

“You don’t want to kiss me, and you don’t want me to take you home.” He put both hands on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, and pulled back onto the road.

Was he angry? Disappointed? Did he think I was toying with him? How could I expect him to read me, to understand what I wanted, when I barely knew myself?

“I’m sorry, Ryder. I’m not trying to mess with your head.”

“I know. I’m patient. Don’t worry.”

“We’re good?” I asked.

“We’re good.”

Half an hour later, I spotted a huge banner overhead. The Big Leap. Bungee jumping?

“You’re joking, right?” My heart thundered.

“You never tried it. You told me once, remember? I’ve never tried either. It’s gotta be amazing.” His hand brushed my thigh. “You love to fly.”

“Hang-gliding is flying. Bungee jumping is plummeting like a rock.”

“You need to kick-start your life.”

He said it so simply, so naively. He’d never lost anyone. As we rolled into the parking lot, I looked ahead at a narrow metal platform that stretched between two craggy mountainsides. Arms outstretched, a man readied himself for the plunge. He tipped forward and dove off the platform, screaming like a banshee. I opened the door and walked to the lookout, where I caught sight of him bouncing back into the air, still howling like it was better than sex. The scenery stole my breath. This place used to be a rock quarry, and at the bottom lay a clear blue lake.

Faint tingles of excitement spread into my belly. It would be a lot like jumping out of a plane, but without terminal velocity. Instead of cruising toward land under the safety of a chute, I’d feel like I was crashing to earth, only to be yanked back into the air.

“It’s the best site in the country,” Ryder explained. “Two hundred foot jump, one hundred and sixty foot rebound. It’s over water, so you can even try a head or body dip. One of my friends did it. He says it’s like falling to your death only at the last second somebody says ‘Just kidding!’”

His eyes were alight. Mine should have been too.

“Well?”

I hesitated and chewed my lower lip until it hurt. Thoughts of cords snapping and bodies slamming into the water roiled in my head. How long was I planning to keep living like this? “Why not?”

We walked over to a small ticket booth, where two husky-looking teenage boys waited in line behind a middle-aged couple. Middle-aged. Huh. They were practically
my
age. I was one year away from the big four-oh. Other than three young women in short shorts already en route to the walkway, there weren’t too many people around. I didn’t recognize anybody. Good. One of the boys, his hair completely shaved, looked at me and then at Ryder.

Uh-oh. Could he tell? Did he know I had a thing for a guy only a few years older than my daughter? The woman in line ahead of us chatted eagerly with her husband, and then she turned to look in my direction too. Damn. Everybody knew I had the hots for him.

I hung my head. “They know.”

“Know what?”

“About us.”

“There’s an
us
?”

“Not so loud!” Trying not to squirm, I looked down at my feet.

“I hate to say this,” he said, like a doctor delivering a cancer diagnosis, “but I’m sure they think you’re my mother.”

The thought stopped me cold. I groaned. As much as people picturing us in bed together filled me with horror, the idea that I was old enough—almost old enough—to be his mother was a million times worse. “I’m not that old!”

“I’m teasing. Hey, if you want to convince them you’re not my mom, we need to do something moms never do with their sons. How about we bungee jump in the nude?”

I stifled a laugh, picturing myself leaping into the void wearing only my tan lines. And Ryder, wow, my pulse raced at the thought of his bare skin. “We might start a new trend.” Our fingers brushed, and I didn’t pull away.

The couple ahead of us finished paying, and Ryder and I stepped up to the window.

“Wanna go tandem?” The teen girl in the booth snapped her gum and pushed a mane of pink hair out of her eyes. “We’ve got a special. Twenty-five percent off. Today only.”

Snap. Snap. Snap
. If she blew a bubble, I’d reach out and pop it right in her face. How easy was it to chew gum with a tongue ring, anyway?

Ryder nudged me with his elbow. “Tandem sounds good, Mom.”

Heat rose in my cheeks. My stomach roiled. “Tandem it is.”

Ryder plunked down some bills. I imagined our bodies tied together at the ankles, standing face to face, waiting for the plunge.

“You’ve got nerve,” I said.

“Everybody says that.”

But I liked it. After being weighed, we crossed over to the narrow walkway where the jumpmaster waited for us. His face was as brown and wrinkled as a pair of old leather boots.

I stared over the edge. No words could describe this place. The drop beckoned. I didn’t remember the last time my blood pulsed through my veins in such a rapid, ecstatic beat.

“Dip?” the jumpmaster asked, selecting bungee cords. He didn’t seem like the chatty type.

Ryder and I shared a look. “Body,” he answered for me.

“Okay,” the jumpmaster said, sounding rehearsed. He must have delivered the same speech hundreds of times. “We put you in your own harnesses. We hook you to the rope. Then I hook you together. Sound good?”

“Yes,” I said.

As we got the harnesses on and our feet were tied together, I thought about my earthbound life.
Leave it behind. Leap into the void
.

“Are you okay?” Ryder asked.

“Yes.” Not a complete lie. The water beckoned.

“Leap, and you’ll grow wings,” he said.

Ryder’s enthusiasm infected me, and exhilaration coursed through my blood.

“All set,” the jumpmaster said, checking our buckles for the last time. “When you rebound, don’t grab the cord, okay? I repeat, do not grab the cord!”

The jumpmaster began his countdown. I stared into Ryder’s eyes, finding comfort in their deep brown. We stood inches from one another, arms stiffly by our sides. He mouthed, “Relax!”

“Three. Two. One. Jump!”

We tipped forward. Our feet lost contact with the ledge. Falling, plunging, plummeting into nothingness, straight toward the water’s glassy blue. Wind whipped my hair, tore screams from my mouth. Adrenaline spiked, flooding my bloodstream. The water loomed closer, closer, too close—
splash
!—underwater for a millisecond. The sudden snap of the cord. A jolt to my spine. Skybound once more, flying, flying, spraying water everywhere. A blur of blue. Ryder’s T-shirt. Sky. Lake water. A haze of gray-green cliffs and trees.

Uncontrollable screams poured from my throat. Ryder howled like a wolf at the moon. We reached the summit of our rebound, and the plunge began again. Yes! Yes! Yes! The exhilaration. The acceleration. We didn’t reach the water this time, even though my fingertips begged to make contact with the lake’s surface.

Skybound for the second time, leaving my stomach behind, the lake zipping away beneath us. I looked around, dazzled by the swift blur of the mountainside, the sparse trees, and Ryder’s grinning face. The ecstasy of flight. Ryder clung to me. I held on to him. In a crazy embrace, we plunged again, diving, swooning.

The cord stretched to its full extent, and a second later we rushed up, up, up like I had wings. Head rush. Laughing, howling, we bobbed at the end of the cord over and over again. God, the exhilaration, the electrifying thrill. I knew how a bald eagle felt when it folded its wings and dropped like a stone toward the earth. I felt free. Uninhibited. All my guilt and worries had stayed behind on the ledge. Ryder and I dangled over the water, laughing.

“I want to kiss you,” Ryder said, water dripping from his hair, his T-shirt clinging to his sculpted chest.

“Wish you could.”

A boat approached us, puttering along in the water. The man sitting at the stern, his blond hair floating free in the wind, held out a long pole. The bungee cords were attached to a winch on the platform above, and the jumpmaster lowered us until the pole was within reach. Ryder grabbed it. Soon we were both sitting in the boat, soaking wet from the waist up.

“How was it?” Ryder asked.

“Exhilarating! Thanks for convincing me.” I twisted my ponytail, wringing water out of it.

Drops trickled down Ryder’s face. His wet T-shirt showed off a chest that would have inspired Michelangelo.

“It’s like I got part of my soul back.” My heart bloomed like a rose.

Laughing, we got out of the boat and then strolled back to the parking lot. When we reached the truck, I took a quick look around. Nobody in sight. I threw myself at Ryder, smothering him in a bruising kiss, shoving him against the passenger door. His strong arms held me tight, one hand pressed on the small of my back, the other at the nape of my neck. My tongue flicked inside his mouth, teasing, inviting him, and he responded with an aroused moan. When we came up for air, panting, he held me firmly, as if he were afraid I’d fly away.

“Ready for the next adventure?” he murmured.

“Anything,” I said, breathless.

He opened the door, reached into the cab and pulled out a helmet. He offered it to me.

The world stopped. I recoiled, folding my arms against my chest, shaking my head and stepping back. The memory charged to the surface, the screech of tires, the tumbling sky, the wreckage. The guilt I left behind on the platform bounded toward me and grasped my hand like an old friend.

Ryder placed the helmet on the hood. “Thought I’d take you for a ride.”

On his dirt bike? Never.

He held out his hand. “I do crazy stunts in competition, but I’m a safe driver. You’ll be fine.”

“Take me home,” I said, walking past him.

“Why?” He blocked my access to the door. “Tell me. I’m trying to understand you, Jacinda. Don’t make it hard for me. Please.”

“I haven’t been on a bike since the accident,” I said flatly.

A light bulb flashed over his head. “Oh, shit. I wasn’t thinking. I’m stupid. I’m sorry. After a year, I thought…. I mean I wanted to take you on a dirt trail…no high speed or anything.”

He pulled me into his arms, and I sank into him. I didn’t care if anybody saw. How could he not think about the bike? To Ryder, the bike was a source of thrills and adrenaline. To me, the bike represented the end of my past life.

“You don’t know the details. Nobody does.”

“Tell me. I’ll listen. Whatever’s trapped inside you, you’ve got to let it out.” Ryder opened the door and helped me into the cab.

In a flash he was sitting next to me, cradling me in his arms. The truth surged, clawing me like a terrible beast. Time to stop caging it. Set it free.

“The accident was….” I inhaled a shuddering breath. “My fault.”

Brows furrowed, he looked at me as if he didn’t believe me. “How?”

The words tumbled out, every one burning like a hot coal.

***

The sun shone brightly, and the first autumn leaves spiraled from the trees. Maddox rolled his baby—a 1500cc Elektra Cruiser—out of the garage and told me to hop on. He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed my leather jacket, gloves, and helmet and sat behind him. Although I had a license, I didn’t get a chance to ride the bike often. Maddox was very possessive about his Cruiser and concerned about my tendency to ignore speed limits. Before he put his helmet on, I ruffled his sandy hair. He smiled at me over his shoulder, laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Soon, we were on a winding stretch of road flanked by corn fields on one side and a rocky mountain on the other. Wind tugged at my jacket as I clung to Maddox.

After a while, Maddox pulled over. “Want to try?”

“Yes!” I practically shouted, sliding off and playfully muscling him out of the way.

Exhilarated by the power clamped between my legs, I adjusted my mirrors, grabbed the handlebars and applied the throttle. I nudged the bike onto the asphalt, happy that we had the road to ourselves. Traffic in this area had slowed to a trickle since the new highway opened last year.

The Cruiser was built for comfort on long journeys, not speed, but it didn’t stop me from pushing the engine. The motor growled under me, responding to my every demand. I leaned into the wind, thrilled by the way it grabbed at my jacket and snatched at my legs. The road snaked along the mountain, the intermittent white line skimming past in a blur.

Maddox tapped my right side, his signal for “Slow down, baby!” Ignoring him, I leaned forward, demanding more speed from the engine. A little faster. Just a little. The needle on the speedometer crept steadily forward.

As smoothly as a professional racer, I rounded another corner. By the time I saw the bed of leaves in the middle of my lane, it was too late to slow down or swerve. My heart stopped dead in my chest. My right boot instinctively shifted to the rear brake, but I knew I couldn’t decelerate fast enough. Maddox’s grip tightened around my ribcage, cutting off my breath.

As the bike lost speed, I pitched forward. The front wheel skidded on the patch of leaves. The Cruiser keeled over, dumping me on the road. As I spun madly from the asphalt onto the grass, I caught sight of the bike sliding across the road, metal twisting, parts flying into the air.

The tumbling stopped. I lay on my stomach. My helmet had flown off. Dizzy, dazed, I tried to raise my head. Impossible. Blood poured from my right shoulder, turning the yellowing grass to bright crimson.

The Cruiser lay several yards away, a hulk of wreckage resting against a boulder. My vision blurred.
Maddox
?