Out Of Line (4 page)

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Authors: Jen McLaughlin

BOOK: Out Of Line
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I straightened my back. The hell with that. I was going for it. The fact that my father didn’t approve only made me want it more. Childish? Sure. Who cared? I was allowed a little bit of rebellion now and then. “Do you want to go to your place and get it?”

“I could, I guess.” He looked over his shoulder toward the road. “Do you want to wait here for me?”

“Can’t I come?”

He hesitated, shifting on his feet. “I only have a motorcycle. I’m not sure you want to ride that.”

A motorcycle? Hell to the yes. Dad called bikes
donor cycles
. Told me if I ever even thought about setting foot within ten feet of one, he’d ground me for life. I wasn’t ground-able anymore, was I? God, this freedom I now had was exhilarating. A girl could get used to this kind of life. “Oh, I’d love that.”

“Seriously?” he asked, looking a little pale. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

I propped my hand on my hip and stood. “Why not?”

“I only have one helmet.”

“So what? I’ll be fine. I trust you.”

He looked up at the sky. “
You
might,” he mumbled under his breath. Then he perked up. “What will we do with your board?”

“I’ll have the store hold it for me.”

He sighed. “I guess I’m out of arguments.”

“I guess so,” I said cheerily, my heart accelerating at the mere thought of climbing on a bike with Finn. “Cheer up. You’re acting like my dad again.”

He stiffened. “Stop saying that.”

“Then stop acting like him,” I said, smiling to show I was teasing him. “You better be here when I come back out, or I’ll skin you alive.”

I grabbed my stuff and headed toward the store. After a quick conversation with the employee, I came back out and found Finn standing there, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. I held my hand out and waited for him to take it with bated breath. I don’t know why I did that. We weren’t dating. We weren’t even friends yet. I couldn’t resist. He stared at my hand for a second, muttered something under his breath, and closed his fingers around mine. A shot of electricity skittered up my arm, making me jump slightly.

What the heck had that been?

His eyes darkened and something weird twisted in my belly in response. Something I was only loosely familiar with. Desire. I was a virgin, but I’d read about sex enough times to recognize the sensation. And I would bet my favorite pair of Converses that he was feeling it, too.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice deeper than usual.


So
ready,” I said, peeking up at him through my lashes. “I’ve always wanted to ride one, but my dad wouldn’t let me.”

He perked up. “Maybe we shouldn’t. You know, if your dad would be mad.”

“Oh, please. I’m nineteen.” I tugged him toward a Harley I could only assume was his. “I’ll ride what I want to ride.”

He groaned under his breath. “I bet you will.” When we reached the bike, he grabbed the helmet off the handle and slid it over my head. I tried to pull back, not wanting to wear the ugly thing in front of him, but he didn’t let me. “My bike. My rules. You wear the helmet.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” He gently slid the helmet the rest of the way down over my head, making sure to keep my hair out of my eyes as he did so. My heart did a weird little flip flop at the way he watched me, his eyes hot and his lips soft. His touch, gentle as it might seem, held a strength behind it.

“How do I look?”

“Perfect,” he said lightly. Then he climbed onto the bike and looked over his shoulder at me. That look he gave me was the look that so many books described. Like he was inviting me to fall into his arms and stay there forever. God, I wanted to. His muscles flexed, teasing me with his perfection. “Climb on and hold on as tight as you can.”

I swallowed hard and slid on the back of the bike.

One thing I knew with picture perfect clarity? The senator was going to fucking kill me for taking his precious little girl out on a bike. Skin me alive and castrate me. Hang me up as a warning to all the other low-level security officers he employed. I would deserve every second of the pending torture, because not only did I want to take her on the back of my bike—but I also wanted to
take
her.

In several positions.

The second Carrie backed me into a corner and insisted she ride my bike with me, I’d known I was fucked…but not in the good way. Just the idea of her wrapping her pretty little arms around me and squeezing those perfect 34C’s against my back made my cock hard. The reality of her pressed against me might be the death of me.

Everything I’d thought I knew about her so far had been wrong. I’d been so sure she would turn out to be this spoiled brat who thrived on shopping, drinking, and defying Daddy. Okay, the last part might be true, but she was also more. A lot more. I wanted to get to know her better. Preferably while naked in my bed.

No
. My job was to serve. Protect. Keep my cover. And most of all? Not touch her. The bad thing was, I couldn’t seem to stop
thinking
about it. For some reason, the little socialite who wasn’t really a socialite was getting under my skin, and I had to find a way to get her out before it was too late.

If only my Glock protected against that shit.

Carrie slid onto the bike and wrapped her whole body against me. I bit back a groan and tried to ignore the way my cock was screaming for attention. Her legs wrapped around me, pressing against me. It would be so easy to turn around. To rip the helmet off her head and kiss her until she realized that the best way to get back at Daddy was through me.

But that wasn’t my job.

And that wasn’t me.

I didn’t play the part of bad boy. Never had.

I revved the engine to life, taking my frustration out on the throttle, and she squealed and hung on even tighter. I couldn’t tell if she was more excited or terrified. Probably an exhilarating mixture of both. The girl was getting a chance to live, and she obviously loved life.

Grinning, I shouted over my shoulder, “Hold on tight, Ginger.”

Her nails dug into my waist and she scooted even closer, if that was possible. My grin faded away to a grunt, and I pulled away from the curb a little too hard. She didn’t panic and cry out. Instead, she whooped. Actually whooped, for fuck’s sake.

If she were anyone but the senator’s daughter, I would be bringing her back to my place so I could show her how to
really
live. How to feel more alive than ever—and I could show her every damn night if she wanted me to. I twisted the throttle and turned the corner on the PCH, letting the bike climb up in speed slowly. Instead of clinging to me for dear life, she loosened her hold on me and laughed.

By the time we completed the short ride to my apartment, I was ready to explode with want. As I booted the kickstand into place, she hopped off of my bike and ripped the helmet off her head. Her wild red hair was a complete and utter mess, but she looked beautiful.

She did a little dance and handed me my helmet. Her blue eyes were sparkling. Vibrant. Full of life. I couldn’t help but wonder what they would look like if I kissed her. Would she look up at me like that, with sapphires shining in her eyes? Or would they smolder and simmer, slowly heating me and making me need more?

“That was freaking awesome,” she said, spinning in a circle. “I want to do it again and again and again.”

My cock twitched, giving a whole new meaning to those words. “Anytime you want it, you let me know. I’ll be at your beck and call.”

“Really?” She gave me an odd look, as if she was wondering if I meant something else.

And, fuck me, I did. “Really.”

“Why are you being so nice to me? It doesn’t make any sense.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and flushed. “I can’t help but think there’s a motive behind all this that you’re not telling me. Are you…did someone…send you here?”

My heart twisted at the look she was giving me. All puppy-dog eyes, begging me for the truth. I wished I could give it to her. Wished I hadn’t signed a contract stating I would keep my cover, no matter what.

Wished I wasn’t a liar.

I hadn’t expected it to be this hard. I hadn’t expected her.

The girl was too smart for her own good. She was onto me. The only way to blow her off course was to confuse her. I couldn’t blow my cover. Couldn’t be exposed. No matter what. I grabbed her hand and yanked her sideways onto my lap. I liked the way she felt there. “You want motive? I’ll give you motive.”

She looked up at me, her mouth in a perfect
O
. Her hands fell to my shoulders, and she clung to me. “What are you—”

I slammed my mouth down on hers, telling myself the whole time that I was only kissing her because I had to keep my cover. That this wasn’t
real
. Didn’t mean anything. But the second her soft lips gave in to mine, I knew I was full of shit. I might be doing this to keep my cover, but I was also doing it because I wanted to see what she tasted like. To hear her little sounds of pleasure.

Her lips parted to let out a little moan, and I swooped in, entwining my tongue with hers. She gasped, almost as if she’d never been kissed before, and then melted against me. She wrapped her arms around me, urging me even closer, and my hands fell to her hips. Unable to help myself, I pressed my cock against the soft curve of the side of her ass, reveling in the feel of her softness pressed against my hardness.

Fuck, I wanted her.

Tearing my mouth free, I took a ragged breath and held her still. She kept trying to wiggle in my lap. If she kept that up, this would be more than a cover kiss. It would be a cover fuck. I tightened my fists on her and opened my eyes. She did the same, looking back at me with smoldering blue eyes.

Well, that answered my question from earlier.

Her swollen red lips begged to be kissed some more, but I tamped down the urge. I had to remember the game. Stay on course. “Shit. I shouldn’t have done that. Pretend it never happened.”

She blinked at me, the heat fading from her eyes and being replaced by confusion. “Why?”

“Speaking of favorite words…” I mumbled under my breath. I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed. “Was that motive enough for you?”

“Y-Yeah, I guess so.” She licked her lips, her gaze on my mouth. “I didn’t know…didn’t realize you were thinking about kissing me. I wasn’t expecting…that.”

She sounded so innocent right now. Had she ever been with a man? I couldn’t imagine a girl that looked like her still being a virgin…but then again, with her father, it was definitely a possibility. “Well, I’m a guy. We’re always thinking about—” I broke off, swallowing the word
sex
. “Kissing. Surely you’ve been kissed before.”

“Of course,” she quickly said, her cheeks red. “Tons of times.”

Tons? Why didn’t I like the sound of that? “Oh really?”

“Really. You’re hardly the first guy to show an interest. I’m not some meek little virgin girl.”

She had to go and tell me that, didn’t she? “Good to know.”

I set her on her feet and stood, my heart pounding in my ears. That kiss had been a huge mistake. An even bigger mistake than accepting this assignment in the first place.

She pressed her fingers to her lips and looked at me. “So that’s why you’re being nice to me? Because you want to kiss me?”

“Occasionally.” I forced a nonchalant shrug. She had to think I wanted her, but I couldn’t actually
have
her. What a fine line I walked. One step too far to the left and I would be a goner. “I’m a guy. I’m always in the mood to kiss someone.”

“Anyone will do?”

“Pretty much.”

“Oh. I see.” She cocked her head. “So that’s your motive.”

I dragged a hand through my hair and started for my door. “Sometimes there isn’t a reason or a motive. Sometimes it just happens.”

“Not in my life.”

“Well, maybe you need a new life.”

“Maybe.” She bit her lower lip. “It’s not that easy to just trust someone, especially when you don’t even know them.”

I swallowed the guilt choking me back. I knew she was suspicious, and she had every reason to be wary of me. I was a fraud. A phony. A fake. And most of all? An asshole for kissing her under false pretenses. “Why are you so damn suspicious of everyone and everything?”

She didn’t follow me, but put her hands on her perfect hips. “I don’t know.”

“Why are you glowering at me like I drowned your kitten in front of you?”

“Because I thought we were friends.”

“We are.”

She lifted her chin up. “Friends don’t kiss friends then say
shit.
You obviously don’t like me very much, so I’m going to make this easy for you. I’m leaving—and you’re staying.”

“No, you’re not.” I rubbed my eyes. Unbelievable. Instead of fixing this screw up, I’d managed to make it worse. “I’m your ride.”

She pulled out her phone and put it to her ear. “Yes. I’d like a cab, please. It’s an apartment building. Brick with patios and balconies. I’ll be outside.” She rattled off my address, an address I didn’t even know she’d be able to figure out, and then slid the phone back in her purse. “Problem solved. Now go away.”

She sat down on the curb, her back to me, and promptly ignored me. I hesitated. Should I do what she wanted and go inside to come up with a plan? Or should I try to fix this now? The urge to bang my head against the wall was almost as strong as the urge to pull her into my arms was. She looked so alone sitting there and staring out in the road. I approached her slowly, uncertain how to tackle this.

“Look, I’m sorry.” I sat beside her, my leg touching hers. She shot me a dirty look, but didn’t move away. “I didn’t mean to kiss you. Not because I don’t want to, but because I just want to be friends.”

“Then why did you kiss me?”

“Because I couldn’t stop myself,” I admitted. It was one of the most honest things I had said to her all day. “But I should have.”

She finally looked at me again. “Why can’t you kiss me? What’s so wrong with it? I mean, if you want to, why is it bad?”

Good question. “It just is. In my career, I could be gone at any second if they call up my unit. I can’t have relationships.”

“That’s bull.” Her hands tightened on her knees. “If you don’t want to be with me, just say it. Don’t give me half-assed reasons why you can’t.”

“I don’t want to be with you,” I said, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. I reached out and closed my hand over hers, trying to soften the blow. “Not in that way, but I do want to be friends.”

“I’ll think about it.” The cab pulled up and she stood. Her hand on the door, she glanced at me over her shoulder. “But if you want to be friends, keep your lips off mine from now on.”

“Deal. Still want to surf?”

She hesitated. “Not today. I have a headache. See ya some other time.”

And with that, she closed the door in my face and left me standing on the curb. My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out. Her father, of course. The man had impeccable timing.

Things going well?

I tightened my grip on the phone and typed fast.
I got it covered.

Good. Don’t forget the rules.

The ones I’d already broken? As if I could.

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