Chapter Twenty-Two
Dirk roared up in front of Meg’s Madison Park house on his custom Dyna Low Rider. He figured it was rare for the people in the expensive neighborhood to see a bike like his parked on the street.
He had purposely worn his leathers: black leather chaps over his black jeans, a black T-shirt with the sleeves cut out, and heavy motorcycle boots. Might as well let Meg see the man he really was, not the hero version she had made up in her head.
Let her see how right she’d been when she’d told him how totally unsuited they were and sent his ass packing.
Unzipping his studded leather jacket, he strode up the path to the porch and knocked on her door. She wanted to go for a ride. She had no idea how badly he wanted to give her one. Only not on the back of his bike.
He steeled himself as the ornate door swung open. Rose Wills stood grinning in the entry. “Dirk!” The heavyset woman launched herself, knocking him a few steps backward as she enveloped him in a hug.
“You brought our baby home safe! You’ll never know how grateful we all are for what you did.” She gave him another warm hug. Dirk smiled down at her, and Rose let him go.
Thank-you hugs could really feel good sometimes. “I was just doing my job, Rose. We’re all grateful it worked out the way it did.”
“Come on in. Meg’s upstairs. She’ll be down in a minute.”
He nodded, followed the heavyset woman into the house. As they reached the entrance to the family room, he spotted little Charlie playing on the floor in front of the coffee table with what looked like a computer tablet.
“He got a Kindle Fire Kid’s Edition for Christmas,” Rose said. “He can already do more stuff on it than I can.”
Dirk smiled. “I don’t doubt it. Seems like these days, they’re born with the knack.” The kid looked up and saw him, and his face went from intense concentration to uncertainty.
Damn, Dirk hadn’t thought about scaring the boy when he’d put on the leathers. He was gearing up for the kid to burst into another crying jag when Charlie stood up from the coffee table and started walking toward him.
With his red hair and freckles, tall for his age like his mom and the rest of the O’Brien family, Charlie was a really cute kid when he wasn’t upset. The little boy walked right up to Dirk and just stood there staring. It made him kind of uneasy.
“Mama said you was a policeman. Is that your uniform?”
He chuckled. “I’m not exactly a policeman, but sometimes I do the kind of work a policeman does.” He thought of the way he must look to a not-quite three-year-old, in his snug black leather chaps, jacket, and boots. “This is what I wear when I ride my motorcycle.”
Charlie’s blue eyes rounded. “You got a modor . . . cicle. Can I see it? Can I?”
“If you look out the window, you can see it parked in front of the house.”
Charlie took off running, his small legs moving like pistons across the floor, making Dirk grin. Hearing light female footsteps, he turned to see Meg coming down the stairs.
For a second, he forgot to breathe.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” She was a biker’s wet dream, decked out in tight black leather pants and a fitted black leather jacket that nipped in and stopped at her waist. Black leather boots with a slender heel came up to her knees, shoving her up a couple more inches.
He clamped down on a vicious shot of lust. “You look ... wow, you look great.”
“The outfit was in the box on the porch. The clothes are research for the boutique I want to open, all but the boots, which I already had. I’ve decided I want to specialize in high-end women’s sports clothes. Snow skiing outfits, motorcycle leathers, tennis clothes, stuff like that.”
“Yeah, I remember you mentioned opening a boutique.” He relaxed. Maybe she didn’t want to talk about the two of them at all. That was good. Right?
He felt something tugging on his chaps, looked down to see Charlie staring up at him. “Can I go for a wide on your modo-cicle?”
“I don’t think your mom would like that very much, Charlie.” He turned to Meg. “I guess he . . . umm . . . likes my bike.”
“He likes trucks, cars, anything with an engine.” Meg crouched down beside her son. “Not today, sweetheart. When you get bigger you can go for a ride.”
Dirk wondered if she was thinking he’d be around when the kid got older. It made him feel funny inside.
“We’d better get going,” she said as Rose Wills walked up and handed them a bag that apparently held their lunch. “We’ll be back this afternoon.”
“I wanna go for a wide,” Charlie whined, his face scrunching up. He was seconds from a good loud cry.
“Let’s go play with your Kindle.” Rose picked him up, propped him on her generous hip, and started for the family room. “We’ll read Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel. You like that one.”
Charlie continued to whine and struggle in her arms.
“Hey, bud!” Dirk strode over to where Mrs. Wills set the boy down on the sofa. “You aren’t big enough to go for a ride on my bike yet, but someday you will be. You can’t cry about it. That just won’t work. But when the day comes that you’re old enough, I promise I’ll take you, okay?”
Charlie sniffed.
“Okay?”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“Now tell your mama good-bye.”
He waved toward where Meg stood next to the door. “Bye, Mama.”
“Good boy.” As Dirk strode out of the family room, Meg and Rose both just stood staring.
Dirk’s gaze fixed on her face. “What? I was a kid once.”
Meg started grinning. “Let’s get out of here before he catches his breath and starts all over again. Charlie’s very persistent when he wants something.”
“Kind of like his mother,” Dirk mumbled. They headed out to his motorcycle, black with an orange dragon winding around the tank; it had an extended front wheel, a Sundowner seat, and 103 cubic inches of go power. The dragon on his helmet matched.
Meg paused next to the bike. “Impressive.” She smiled. “I can’t wait to take a ride.”
“I’ve had it a while. I had it customized when I bought it.” He stuffed their lunch into a saddlebag, grabbed the spare helmet off the seat, and tossed it to Meg, who pulled it on over her fiery hair. She’d clipped it back at the nape of her neck, but a few wispy strands fluttered next to her cheeks.
His groin tightened. He wanted to unfasten the clip and slide his fingers into the silky strands, wrap a fist around them, and drag her mouth up to his for a deep, burning kiss. He wanted a lot more than that.
Pulling his own helmet on, he swung aboard the bike, and Meg swung on behind him. He could feel the heat of her body, those long legs snug against his thighs, her soft breasts pressing into his back. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a woman aboard. Damn, it felt good.
He told himself it wasn’t because the woman was Meg.
“You ready?”
“All set.” She took a firm hold on his waist and he dragged in a calming breath.
“You’ve ridden before, right? You know to lean with me, not in the opposite direction.”
“It was way back, but yes, I remember.”
“Good girl.” Dirk kicked up the stand, fired the engine, gunned it, and they were off.
He knew where he wanted to take her. It was the warmest day they’d had so far this year and it hadn’t rained, so it was nice and dry.
On the way over to Meg’s he’d stopped by the lake house, checked in with the construction crew, still hard at work though he hadn’t been there to help as much as he usually did. They were making good progress, finishing the framing, getting ready to start on the roof.
The Harley hummed along the road. He was in no hurry. He loved being out in the sunshine, loved the feel of the fresh air rushing past, the feel of the heavy machine throbbing between his legs.
He wondered if Meg felt it, too, wiped the next thought out of his head.
Winding his way up into the hills, he turned down a dirt road and continued to a favorite spot next to a stream. It was completely private, perfectly hidden away.
The ground was dry. Taking an old blanket out of the other saddlebag, he spread it open on the grass, set the lunch bag down on top of it, and took out a couple of Cokes.
He’d rather have a beer, but Meg was a mom and he wasn’t taking any chances.
“This is wonderful.” Meg wandered over to look at the stream. Frothy water churned and bubbled, ran over the rocks in the middle and along the banks.
“Eat first or talk first?” he asked.
“Talk—unless you’re starving.”
“I had breakfast; I’m okay.”
She moistened her lips and he realized she was nervous. “I’ll take one of those Cokes,” she said.
He fished one out and handed it over. Both of them sat down on the blanket. “It’s Diet,” he said. “I remember that’s what you like.”
She ran a finger around the rim of the unopened can. “I remember everything about you, Dirk.”
His chest went tight. Then, suddenly, he was angry. “You remember everything? Then you remember that you’re the one who ended things between us. You’re the one who said it would never work. Nothing’s changed, Meg. I’m the same man I was before and you’re the same woman.”
“I’m not the same. I’m different. I understand things I didn’t understand before.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Like what a good man you are. I understand that I shouldn’t have made assumptions about you. I shouldn’t have assumed you would never fit in with my family, never be able to handle being a dad to my son.”
He stared at her, his eyes hot with rage and the feelings of betrayal he’d thought he’d overcome. “You meant everything to me, Meg, and I meant nothing to you.”
“That’s not true!”
“It is true! You threw me away, Meg! Like I was a piece of trash. You threw me away!”
She looked stricken. “No!”
He shot up off the ground and strode over to the stream, stared into the water, fisted his hands on his hips. Dragging in deep breaths of air, he fought for control.
He felt Meg’s arms slide around his waist, felt her cheek against his back. His eyes slid closed. He had loved her so much.
“Have you ever made a mistake so big it just consumed you?” she asked softly. “Have you ever made a wrong choice you wished you could undo more than anything in the world?”
He could feel her trembling. He turned, saw fat tears rolling down her cheeks.
“What are you saying, Meg?”
“I made that kind of mistake when I sent you away. I tried to get over you. I told myself giving you up was the best thing for both of us, but it wasn’t. I’ve thought of you day and night since the moment you walked away.”
“Meg, don’t.”
“Now I’m begging you to let me back in. I’m asking you to forgive me for being a fool, to say you’ll try again.”
His throat ached. He hadn’t expected their talk to go this far. Hadn’t expected to see the depth of her regret in those beautiful blue eyes.
“Give me another chance, Dirk. Give us another chance.”
He started shaking his head. “I can’t, Meg. The feelings I had for you ran deep. I thought you felt that way, too. You didn’t give me any warning, just cut me out as if I never existed. I can’t deal with those kinds of feelings again.”
Instead of arguing, she reached up and slid her hands into his hair, cupped the back of his head, and brought his mouth down to hers for a very tender kiss. She trailed kisses along his jaw, pressed her lips to the side of his neck, kissed the head of the dragon that crawled up from his shoulder.
“Meg . . .” Yearning burned through him. Need. And fierce, deep desire. His body tightened and he went rock hard. He wanted this woman, had always wanted her.
Meg kissed him again, deeper this time, her tongue in his mouth, her breath coming fast, her thundering heartbeat matching the speed of his own.
“I want you,” she said, sliding her arms up around his neck. “I need you, Dirk. Please forgive me.” She kissed him again, her leather pants rubbing erotically against the hard ridge beneath his fly surrounded by the leather chaps.
Her hand went there, cupped him, squeezed very gently, made him groan.
Meg slid the leather jacket off his shoulders, let it fall to the ground. She shoved up his black sleeveless T-shirt, silently insisting he pull it off over his head. Reaching behind his neck, he tugged it off and tossed it away.
Slender hands roamed over his bare chest, tracing the muscles, outlining the sinews, the ladder of muscle down his stomach; then she pressed her mouth over his heart.
He didn’t move. It took every ounce of his will. He knew what he would be risking, knew the power he would be giving her.
She caught sight of the small tattoo on his upper left chest, reached out, and touched it. It was the tattoo of a heart cracked in two.
“This wasn’t there before,” she said, drawing the shape with the tip of her finger, her eyes moist and so incredibly blue.
He thought of the hurtful way they’d parted and some of his anger returned. “No, it wasn’t. It’s a reminder never to love a woman again. But if you think I put it there because of you, you’re wrong. There was someone else, another woman.”
She didn’t buy it. Meg wasn’t a fool. “What was her name?”
“Stella,” he ground out. “Her name was Stella.” He was a lousy liar. It was Luke who was the master.
He caught Meg’s shoulders. “You think I didn’t have other women after you were gone? I had women. Plenty of them. I would have done anything to forget you, Meg. Anything.”
She reached up and gently touched his cheek. “Did it work?”
His heart was pounding. His chest ached. “No.” Hauling her hard against him, he kissed her, a long, deep, saturating kiss, his tongue sweeping in to claim her, his body rigid against hers.
He kissed her and ached for her, and still he wanted more.
He took a step back, drew in a shaky breath. Braced his feet apart and crossed his arms over his chest. “You want this? Take off your clothes.”
Her eyes locked with his, but she didn’t hesitate. Her jacket went first. She pulled off the black scoop-neck top she wore underneath, shed her black lace bra.
His erection throbbed. God, she had the prettiest breasts, full and round, perfectly formed.
“Lose the rest,” he demanded.
Meg sat down on a rock beside the blanket and pulled off her boots. The leather pants molded to her body, but there was a band of black elastic down each side, making them comfortable to wear and easy to remove.
He went hard to the point of pain as she peeled them away, leaving her naked except for a tiny scrap of black lace that disappeared between her legs.
Jesus God, it was a sin for a woman to look that good.
“Take the clip out of your hair.”
She complied, then shook her head, setting the fiery mass free.
“The thong,” he said, his voice gone rough. “Take it off.”
She shimmied the little scrap of lace down over her hips and lay back on the blanket, propped on her elbows like a feast.
She gave him a wicked smile. “Your turn,” she said.
Dirk shook his head, his return smile grim. “I’m not waiting that long.” He came down beside her on the blanket, leaned over, and started kissing her. Her hands were all over him, touching, teasing his nipples, driving him crazy.
He cupped her breasts, took each one into his mouth, suckled and tasted and heard her soft moan. He stroked her, found her ready. He’d known she would be.
He felt her hands working his zipper, reaching inside to free him. He was hard as granite and ready to burst.
“Easy,” he said. There was a pair of condoms in the back pocket of his jeans. He was no fool either. Dragging one out, he sheathed himself, took a moment to enjoy the feminine sight she made stretched out in front of him. He shifted between her legs, settling there, and eased himself deep inside.
Then he was moving hard, driving deep, taking her as if he had every right.
Maybe he did. She’d seduced him bold as brass. She belonged to him—at least for now.
He drove into her, felt those long legs wrapping around him, heard her little mews of pleasure as he carried her to the peak, watched her beautiful face as she climaxed, then took her to the edge again, up and over, before he joined her in release.
When they were finished, he rolled to his back and removed the condom. Just lay there spent and wishing he had more willpower. Or maybe not.
After a while he straightened his clothes, zipped his jeans, and lay back again, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his bare chest and leather-covered thighs.
“I can’t make any promises,” he finally said. “I don’t trust anymore—not the way I used to. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to again.”
She leaned over him, her warm breasts plumping on the muscles across his bare chest. “But you’ll try? You’ll give us the chance I was afraid to give us before?”
“I don’t know.”
“We’re good together, Dirk. At least admit that much.”
“It’s just sex, Meg.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She kissed his broken heart tattoo. “Will you have supper with us tonight?”
When he didn’t answer, she kissed him, trailed kisses along his jaw and down the side of his neck. “You could stay the night and we could have more just sex.”
He fought a smile. “Food and sex with a beautiful woman. Hard offer to turn down.”
She sat up on the blanket, her breasts swinging free and arousing him again. She reached down and cupped him through the black jeans fabric surrounded by snug black leather. “Yes, I see how hard it is.”
Dirk wrapped his hands around her waist, lifted her, and settled her astride him. “I’ll come to supper. In the meantime, why don’t we go ahead and have a little more just sex right now?”
Meg laughed her throaty laugh, and the sweet sound slipped right through him. He was in deep trouble here.
Add to that, there was still a killer on the loose.
At least he’d gotten his wish. From now until it was over, he’d be the man protecting Meg and little Charlie.