Elley Arden - Baby by Design

“There,” he said, lifting her right hand palm up where he could deposit the key. He cradled her hand while his fingertips pressed into her palm around the cool metal.

“Thank you,” she stammered.

“Don’t mention it.”

There was something else she shouldn’t mention, something that bit at the tip of her tongue. As she fought with the words, she stared up at his handsome face, noticing how his dark eyes and brows reminded her of Angie’s, but how his wider nose twisted the familial resemblance into a unique, masculine edge.

“Do you want to come in?” Somehow Trish managed not to cringe. Apparently a wandering mind led to loose lips.

Tony opened his mouth, and his shoulders rose and fell. “I want to do a lot of things I shouldn’t. That tends to be what gets me labeled as the black sheep of my family.”

He was still holding her hand, but the pressure of his fingertips had lightened until the tickle to her palm caused by the vague movement of a simple breath had her hanging on his answer. “Is that a yes or a no?”

With a grin, he closed her fingers around the key and dropped her hand. “I think I better get the car back to Vin.”

Disappointment throttled the hope his grin had created. “Okay.”

His brows furrowed, and she wondered if the disappointment showed on her face.

“You wouldn’t want to come with me, would you?” he asked, his brows still knotted above his nose, like he wasn’t at all certain he should be asking the question in the first place.

Trish made a quick mental list of her options, which included heading to bed—alone—or prolonging her evening with Tony. “Yes,” she said.

“It would involve riding my bike home.”

She looked down at her dress. “I’m not sure I can ride in this.”

“I saw you dance in that, remember.” He winked. “If you can grind, you can ride.”

Before she could do something about the recklessness taking over her normally practical mind, Tony reached out to close her front door. He took the key from her hand, locked the house, and then pulled her off the front porch.

“Don’t tell Angie,” he said. His quick smile gave Trish the feeling he was only partly joking.

“I won’t.” She slid back onto the passenger seat and let him close the door behind her.

Her brain echoed the mantra what am I doing. Her heart was afraid of the answer. Regardless, by the time the sun came up she knew she was going to take this thing with Tony too far.

Vin’s gated riverside condo complex glowed beneath the sparkle of a cloudless sky. Tony admired the stars and the perfect night for riding. That sky was the best reason yet to ditch this car. Not that the car wasn’t great. Not that Tony wasn’t thankful for the loan. But the car came with too much responsibility to keep it scratch-free—and too much room in the single row of seats. More than once on the five-mile drive from Trish’s house to Vin’s condo, he’d entertained thoughts of stretching her lush body along these vintage leather seats.

Clearly the night wasn’t going to end until he did something stupid. The least he could do was not involve Vin’s precious car.

After snaking his way to the back of the complex and the river’s edge, Tony hit the button on the garage opener and guided the car into the empty spot next to his beloved bike. With any luck Vin wouldn’t come sniffing around for damage until Tony and Trish were long gone.

Tony put the car in park just as the door to the house opened. Vin stepped into the garage, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts and a scowl, and he was looking right at Trish.

“He looks angry,” she mumbled.

“You’ve seen him at enough family functions to know he always looks angry. Ignore him.” Tony pushed out of the car and smiled at Vin. “I brought her home in one piece.”

“I see that,” Vin leered, looking from Trish to Tony and back to Trish again.

“Not a mark on her.”

“Yet.” Vin stared at Tony a second longer, and then dropped his searing gaze to inspect his car.

“Hi, Vin. Nice to see you again. Great car.” Trish’s voice wobbled. She stood between the car and Tony’s bike, wringing her hands like a teenager caught by her father during a driveway make out session. Flushed cheeks. Sparkling eyes. Gnawed bottom lip. It was a great look on her.

“Tony,” Vin barked.

“Yeah,” Tony answered, turning his face from Trish to the drill sergeant in the doorway.

“How ’bout you come inside and get your keys.” He tossed a curt nod to Trish and disappeared into the condo.

Tony smiled at her.

“Are you in trouble?” she asked, a crooked grin on her reddened face.

“Probably. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

When Tony walked into the condo, he came face to face with Vin. “You are a fucking moron.”

Tony nodded. “Thanks for the compliment. Now give me my keys.”

“Not if you’re going to take them and drive that lady anywhere else but to her home, where you will leave her the hell alone.”

“I appreciate your concern.” Despite the itch he had to deck Vin for the self-righteous lecture, Tony smiled and held out his hand.

Vin dropped the keys in Tony’s palm, but then quick as lightning, strangled his wrist. “Appreciate this. Ange will skin you alive if she knows you’re messing with her best friend.”

Tony ripped his hand free. “Thanks for the car, Vin.” He stormed out of the condo before things got ugly.

Not convinced Vin wouldn’t follow to embarrass Tony by lecturing in front of Trish, Tony half-sprinted to the bike, where she waited.

“I don’t know how to do this.” She looked pale.

He didn’t have time to put her fears to rest. Shrugging out of his suit coat, he tossed it at her. “Put that on. It’s gonna get cold.” Then he grabbed the handlebars and tossed his right leg over the seat, walking the bike backward out of the garage until he was facing forward in the driveway.

He waved Trish to his side, and when she was close enough, he snatched her arm, pulling her to him. “It’s simple. Straddle the seat, plaster your boobs against my back, and hang the hell on.”

He fired up the bike before she—or Vin—could say a word.

Seconds later, the full weight of her upper body pressed against his back as he rocketed off, shattering the evening silence. Vin was right. Tony was going to pay for all the wicked things he wanted to do to Trish, starting with running his hand up her stockings so he could feel how high her dress rode up her thighs.

Maybe the urgency to misbehave grew on the harshness of Vin’s warning or the rushing crush of cold air against Tony’s face. More than likely it was Trish’s chin resting on his shoulder and the heat from her hands, clinging to his pecs. Whatever the reason, as he slowed his speed amid city traffic, he reached behind him to find her. Hooking his hand beneath her knee, he soaked in the soft but ragged feel of fishnet, and then moved his hand higher along the outside of her thigh. All the while her hands pressed deeper into his chest, until he could feel the bite of her fingernails.

But then traffic opened up, and Tony needed both hands on the bars to keep control of the bike.

Trish’s hands never let up with the pressure. Even when he cut the motor in front of her house, she choked his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was shock from his hand’s impromptu exploration or fear from his driving. Either way, he was a little worried to face her.

Her hot, staccato breaths tickled the side of his neck, and his shoulder muscle throbbed beneath the weight of her chin. Such a strange combination of pleasure and pain. Strange enough to hold him there, savoring the sensations.

“Now what?” she whispered.

He patted her rigged hands. “You need to get off.” The words didn’t sound nearly as filthy as they tasted.

“Oh. Okay.” She slid her hands around his chest and released his shoulder from the piercing pressure of her chin. Then she clamped onto his shoulders and pushed against him until he couldn’t feel her anymore.

He didn’t like the icy feel of that one bit.

When he dropped his right foot to the ground, he glanced behind him, so as not to kick her with his left leg when he swung off the bike. She stood out of reach, tugging her dress beneath his unbuttoned suit coat to her bended knees. Her blonde hair, battered from the wind, fell in clumps around her face, hiding her eyes, but he could see her teeth pulling at her bottom lip, and he had a clear shot of some impressive cleavage.

Damn, he liked his women muddled.

Lust punched a hole in his gut and yanked him off the bike. When he came to a stop in front of her, she froze. Hands flat on her belly, knees still bent. “You okay?” he asked.

She tipped her head slightly and regarded him with shiny eyes. “You don’t wear a helmet?”

“It’s not against the law in Pennsylvania.”

“I know, but what about protection?” She straightened, and when she did, his coat slipped from her right shoulder.

She was a glorious mess, so unlike the professional, capable Trish DeVign he knew.

Tony reached for her, slipping his hand to her arm and pinching the coat between his fingers, dragging it over her smooth skin. Heat tightened his belly.

“Sometimes protection is overrated,” he whispered. “Sometimes all it does is get in the way of the experience.”

She slapped a hand over her mouth and backed away.

Shit. Now he’d done it. He’d shocked the hell out of her. Any minute she’d turn and run.

Eyes wide, she dropped her hand. “You’ve pushed me to this, Tony. I have no choice.”