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Thursday Nights(10)

By:Lisa N. Paul




Lyla slid into her BMW, buckled up, and pressed the windows down to let the late-summer night breeze blow through her car. September nights in Pennsylvania were her favorite because one never knew if the weather would be hot and sticky or crisp and chilly. Like life, it was unpredictable, and she knew how to handle unpredictable.

She was selecting the playlist on her iPod when she heard the growling sound of what could only be a Harley roll up to the side of her car. Hmm, she thought with a smirk, the things I’ve done on a motorcycle… Just the sound alone made her internal engine purr. She continued to scroll to her favorite playlist, when the back of her neck began to tingle.

She could feel him—her body was actually reacting to a perfect stranger—and there was a slight tap on the roof of her car. Lyla looked up from her iPod and saw what may have been the most startling pair of blue eyes that had ever been created. Here she thought her own were pretty fabulous, but nope, not even close in comparison. She wanted to drown in the pools that stared back at her. She had never seen him up-close before—he was breathtaking. Lyla felt her chest burn from her shallow breaths as she took in the curve of his jaw and sculpted chin.

“See something you like?” he asked with a dimpled grin.

“Before you opened your mouth I did,” Lyla answered in kind.

The next thing she knew the passenger door opened. Oh shit! I forgot to lock the doors. “I’m such an idiot!”

“I wouldn’t say you’re an idiot, but you really should lock your doors. Any crazy man could just open them up and sit down next to you,” he said with a wink.

“I really need to get this problem of thinking out loud under control,” Lyla stated. Purposely out loud that time.

“Or maybe you just need a man that wants to listen to your all thoughts.” There was that killer smile again. Dangerous.

His baby blues watched her with what appeared to be interest. Lyla snickered and then laughed to the point of tears.

He looked at her with lust and confusion. “What?” he asked in that voice that would forever haunt her dreams.

“Does that line actually work for you?” Lyla said, wiping her eyes with the palm of her hand, trying in vain to pull herself back together.

“Actually, I haven’t had to use that line before,” he said smoothly. “Because I don’t run into many beautiful, sexy, desirable women who spend the better part of their evening talking to themselves.” He chuckled a throaty laugh, and once again Lyla felt goose bumps rise on her skin. Oh Lord, the dimples, the smile, the laugh––what the hell is wrong with me?

Trying to hide her reaction to him, and of course, her latest quirky bullshit, Lyla squared off her shoulders, lifted her head, and looked straight at the sensuous man sitting, uninvited, in her car. How the hell did that happen again?

“So…” Lyla waited for him to offer his name, but he didn’t. He just looked back at her with a piercing stare, his soulful eyes framed with black lashes so intense she swore he could see right through her.

“So,” he repeated. “I know that you come here on Thursday nights—”

“Stalker much?”

“Lyla.” Her name was honey dripping from his lips. “Knowing your name and that fact that you come to Danny’s on Thursdays doesn’t make me a stalker.”

Lyla’s insides melted, and her panties actually dampened, just from hearing her name slide out of his mouth. I’m so screwed. “Oh my God…”

“What’s wrong?” He smiled.

“Shit!” Realizing she again spoke her thoughts out loud, she moved to slam her fist into her thigh. Just as her expletive filled the tight space of the car, his left hand sliced out and grabbed her fist, holding it in his big palm. Their skin connected, and just like in the bar, electricity surged through her body. But here, now, they were sitting face-to-face, his eyes to hers.

She felt her skin bloom, every hair rising from her flesh, as he reached out and placed his right hand on the side of her face. Before Lyla knew it, he pulled her to him. She tried to resist, but his lips were soft and warm as they caressed hers. The kiss that started out slowly, maybe even a little chaste, turned inferno as soon as his cedar smell hit Lyla’s senses. Her throaty moan was all the acceptance he needed.

“Nice,” he muttered as he pulled her tighter. He tried to consume her with his kiss, and she went willingly. Her hands started to travel down his hard, muscled chest, over his pecs, and spread across his abdomen. He breathed in deep and slowly pulled away, keeping his hand wrapped around her fist. Lyla opened her eyes, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened, when she heard the click of the door being opened. The overhead light in the car came on.

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