Still Hot For You Read Free Page A

swept him up and down. “So?” She squared her body at him. “You want to answer questions with questions, or do you want to get out of here?”
    Dylan stood silent for a spell. “All right.” His eyes went to the deep V of the black tee she wore under her black jacket. “Guess I won't ask where we're going.” He looked from her boobs to her face to her boobs. “Since that would constitute a question.”
    “Good,” she said, with a deeper laugh than usual. Guys were so easy. A little red lace peeking out. A Miracle bra that plumped her breasts, pushed and squeezed for the miracle effect. Nope. It didn't take much.
    “I'll go put on something more appropriate,” he said.
    They were walking on eggshells, tiptoeing around each other, but all that would change soon. Real soon. “Wear black.” She scrutinized his strong jaw line, his well-shaped lips. What if she grabbed him and kissed him right here in the kitchen? No. That might freak them both out.
    Dylan's demeanor remained cool, controlled. “Anything else?”
    How about everything else? She contained her bubbling lust. Damn jacket always made her feel so horny. “That was a question!”
    He let out a chuckle. “Oh.” He shoved his hand into the front pocket of his gray dress slacks. “How about if I just go change.” He turned to walk away. “That was a statement, by the way.”
    * * * *
    The fast breeze on Shay's face awakened her dormant parts. She took a long breath, inhaling it all in. Problems? What problems? She and Dylan didn't have any problems. No sir. At the moment, everything felt great.
    Dusk had to be her favorite time of day, because the hectic pace slowed to a crawl. With autumn well underway, cool air offered a welcome relief from a long, sticky summer that seemed to be getting stickier. Then there was the hunky man between her legs.
    She could've wrapped her arms around his frame. Crushed her breasts against his back. Shoved her face into his worn leather jacket until sweet memories seduced her. Memories like this, two lovers zipping along the coastline on Dylan's custom chromed-out bike.
    The proximity of his scent caused enough of a rush. Her thighs anchored her husband, brushed the outsides of his muscled thighs. Friction from the motorcycle and him stormed already steamy thoughts. She kept her hands on his waist, bunching fistfuls of jacket and t-shirt.
    This was what their life had been missing. Freedom. Adventure. She almost threw her hands up in the air. Dylan seemed lost in his own world, leaning back comfortably, his broad body slackened and relaxed. Now he looked like the guy Shay knew, the man she'd fallen in love with and married.
    Married. She loved being married to him. Her eyes misted. Watered. Whatever it took, she'd get back the closeness they'd had. She missed it. Missed him. She only now realized how much.
    “Pull off,” she yelled over the rumbling engine. She hadn't ridden in forever, and after forty-five minutes, her lower extremities ached. Working behind a desk might've contributed to the problem. Maybe her body was out of practice. But a fiery spirit lived on. It just made less frequent appearances. And Shay needed to change that.
    During her sentence in solitary confinement, she'd realized a few things about her marriage. She and Dylan had fallen into a rut. What had happened to the two rebels with a thirst for life? What had happened to spontaneity, that live-for-the-moment philosophy? Now they only lived for work. So what, they were more mature . Did everything have to be serious? Did every move have to be calculated? They focused entirely on the future. What about now?
    Dylan pulled off the road. He made his own parking space and cut the engine. It was a beautiful spot, private and fronting the ocean. Shay hopped off the bike and removed her shiny black helmet. She loosened her braid, shook out her hair. Bending forward, she touched her fingertips to the ground, stretching her stiff leg muscles.
    “You