Taboo Kisses Read online

  He’d do it too. “Ummm.”

  “I’ll keep calling, over and over again. Until you finally answer.”

  I arched my brows. Persistence was a trait I admired.

  “Until you give in,” he said, looking awfully cocky.

  “I’m not a pushover.”

  “You’re a challenge. I’m always up for a challenge.”

  Damn, this little room was heating up. “Let me think.” Stalling, I crossed my arms, resulting in even more pronounced cleavage.

  He inhaled deeply. “While you’re thinking, can I help you out of your lingerie?”

  “You’ve had enough eye candy for one day.” My very own boy toy. It sounded sinful. And sensational. Sinsational. I grinned. For now, I’d gone far enough. “I’ll buy the lingerie. Ring it up for me.”

  “While we’re on the topic of what’s best for the customer, a pair of black fishnet stockings would complement the crimson quite well.” He glanced at my bare legs.

  Might as well swallow the bait. “I suppose you want me to model them for you too?”

  “It’s always best to try on an item before buying it.”

  “Not today.” I touched his lips with my index finger, tracing their fullness, their softness. “But I can do my part to help you pay off the repairs to your mother’s car. I’ll take two pairs of fishnets. Can you pick out the right size for me while I change?”

  “Of course.” After taking a last lingering look at my cleavage, he left the room.

  Chapter Two

  As I relaxed on my bed in my new matching bustier and thong, a box of chocolates on my night table, and a book about climbing Mount Everest in my hand, my cell beeped for the tenth time. Or maybe the eleventh. I checked the number.

  Ryder. I popped another creamy caramel into my mouth.

  Why did I pull Ryder into the changing room? Now a war raged between my loyalty to my husband and a passion for a guy barely out of his teens.

  What if Lorena found out? Hell, she might be happy if her son had a fling with someone responsible for a change. Or I might lose her as a friend.

  What about Gemma?

  My heart stuttered. The day after our kiss, Ryder broke up with her. It took months of moping, and lots of there-are-plenty-more-fish-in-the-sea talks, before Gemma found the heart to date another guy. If she found out, she’d feel crushed, angry, betrayed, and that was putting it mildly.

  Dammit. What do I do?

  Why couldn’t I allow myself to move on, to have a fling, to reconnect with the fun-loving part of myself?

  Guilt shadowed me during the day, frowning at me while I slaved over my Mac at the office, and at night it lay under the covers with me, a thorny burden that never, ever went away.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed the phone and read the series of messages.

  “I know the perfect place for you to get your wings back. I’ll teach you how to fly again. Call me.”

  Nothing risky, thanks. I’d get my thrills vicariously from now on, by reading crime novels and watching documentaries on the Discovery Channel.

  “No one needs to know. You. Me. A campfire by the lake.”

  I loved campfires, sitting by the water, listening to the hiss and crackle of the flames. Did I want to pursue this fantasy?

  Yes.

  Cramming the spiny ball of guilt into a huge box and padlocking it shut, I dialed his number. He picked up on the second ring.

  “Can you keep this to yourself?” I asked without bothering to say hello. “You won’t tell anyone?”

  “I swear.”

  “Have you heard of the saying, ‘Three people can keep a secret, if two of them are dead’?”

  “No, but I understand your point.” He chuckled. “There’s one place I need to take you where there are people around, though. We’ll keep it platonic. No worries.”

  “No one can find out,” I insisted. The contents of the box fought to break free. Gemma. Maddox. The accident. The padlock strained, metal groaned, but the lid stayed shut.

  “We’ll keep it casual. I want to take you on an adventure.”

  “No romance.” Not yet. I needed more time. The old me would have shouted carpe diem and snatched this opportunity without a second thought. The new me was sitting home alone on a Friday night with a box of chocolates for company. “When and where?”

  “Tomorrow. Two o’clock. Parking lot behind the mall on Fisher Avenue. Don’t dress up. Wear jeans. How about the sexy pair you had on yesterday?”

  “We’ll see,” I said in a teasing tone, and hung up.

  ***

  I drove my green Ford hybrid into a deserted section of the parking lot, scanning the area for Ryder. What did he drive these days?

  A glance to the left answered my question. A monstrosity. If this was the only set of wheels he owned, no wonder he borrowed his mother’s convertible to show off for a girl. The ugly-ass pickup, at least a decade old, was being eaten alive by patches of rust. The pickup hauled an equally rust-flecked trailer with Ryder’s dirt bike on board. Hair flying in the wind, Ryder sat on the trailer, long legs dangling off the side.

  The sight of the bike triggered an avalanche of memories, sliding toward me at breathtaking speed, threatening to sweep me into the past, back to Maddox and the motorcycle down the stretch of lonely highway. No, no, no. Not now.

  “Our transportation?” I asked, walking toward him.

  He waved an arm at the truck. “I call her Sammy Jo. She’ll be taking you to an undisclosed location.”

  “You weren’t kidding when you said this wouldn’t be romantic.”

  “Hey, you were against romance.” He put a hand to his heart as if I’d injured him. “Completely anti-romance. This is the most unromantic vehicle on the streets today.” He pushed himself off the side of the trailer and landed in front of me. “I aim to please, Jacinda.”

  Laughter bubbled out of me. I examined the dents in the tailgate. It looked like someone had taken their frustrations out on it with a sledgehammer.

  “Ex-girlfriend,” he said. “Long story. I heard she’s almost done with her anger management classes.”

  “There’s nothing boring about your life, is there?”

  “Boring and I don’t get along very well.” He opened the passenger door. “After today, there won’t be anything boring about your life either.”

  He sounded so sure of himself. Some of his confidence better rub off on me, because right now I was a little skeptical about whatever he had planned. But being near him again ignited a flame inside me.

  I climbed into the front seat, where bits of foam protruded from a long tear. “Another ex-girlfriend?”

  He grinned. “Got careless with a box cutter.”

  Ryder got in, turned the key, and I waited for the engine to utter a few hoarse coughs and die. Surprisingly, it rumbled to life and we were off.

  “You must be quite a mechanic if you can keep this thing running.”

  For a brief moment, he rested his palm on my thigh. “I’m good with my hands.”

  “Are you now?”

  “If you like, I can show you how good.”

  Damn, he was brazen. I liked it. He said it all with a crazy grin on his face, so I could only take him half-seriously.

  “Of course, I’d also like to say that if you’re not satisfied with my technique, if you feel there’s room for improvement, I’m more than willing to learn.”

  “I’ll remember you said that.” Yum, potential. “I have a question for you.”

  “Yes?”

  “Whatever happened to our ‘no romance’ agreement?”

  “Hey, a guy’s gotta try.”

  I couldn’t fault him for that. “Okay, another question. In the changing room, why didn’t you make a move? I mean you flirted, but….”

  “You were talking about Maddox, and it felt like the wrong time. Like I would have been taking advantage.”

  Considerate of him. If he had tried to seduce me with another kiss, would
I have told him to stop? “A lot of guys would have seized the opportunity.”

  “With your hot body, damn right!” He kept both hands tightly on the wheel. “I know you need time. We can just hang out if you want. I just…I’ve always had a thing for you. Always.”

  I wanted to touch him, but resisted. Why couldn’t I make up my mind about what I wanted?

  We drove out of town, bumping along on a quiet country road bordered by recently shorn wheat fields. He turned on the radio. “Classical?”

  “How did you know?” Gemma, of course.

  “I have the rest of the day planned out.”

  “You sound very enthusiastic. Can you give me details?”

  “No. I want to surprise you.”

  Smiling, I settled back into my seat. Ryder was a glass-is-always-full kinda guy, squeezing every last drop of pleasure out of life. Practically every day since Maddox died, when I returned home from work, I forced myself to cook a decent supper, watched National Geographic or Discovery, and went to bed. How dull. I’d become one of those armchair adventurers I despised.

  “Pull over,” I said.

  Ryder furrowed his brows, and I wanted to smooth the creases with a kiss. He seemed puzzled, but he signaled and pulled over to the side of the dirt road.

  Total privacy. No one to spy on us or pass judgment. “Let’s suspend the no romance rule.”

  For a moment, dimples appeared in his cheeks, as if he were a kid who’d been handed a box full of action figures. Adorable. I unbuckled my seatbelt and slid closer to him. Tentatively, I traced his ear, grasping the lobe between my thumb and index finger, pulling firmly until I heard his sharp intake of breath. Even though he’d shaved, his cheek had a rough, manly texture. I placed my thumb on the cleft in his chin. It probably bothered him when he dragged his razor across it. One of his lower teeth was a little crooked. I leaned over and kissed him. It felt better this time, not the forbidden kiss of before, but something I needed, craved—

  Stop!

  The voice belonged to Maddox.

  I broke the kiss and my fingers went to my lips.

  “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, brushing my cheek with his fingertips.

  “No. It’s not about you.”

  “Maddox?”

  “Yes.” And Gemma, who’d shun me forever.

  “Don’t you think you should let yourself move on?”

  I didn’t answer.

  He exhaled, his shoulders slumping. “Do I take you home?”

  Back to my life of reading books, watching documentaries, and gorging myself on comfort food? I didn’t have to give it much thought. “No.”

  “You don’t want to kiss me, and you don’t want me to take you home.” He put both hands on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, and pulled back onto the road.

  Was he angry? Disappointed? Did he think I was toying with him? How could I expect him to read me, to understand what I wanted, when I barely knew myself?

  “I’m sorry, Ryder. I’m not trying to mess with your head.”

  “I know. I’m patient. Don’t worry.”

  “We’re good?” I asked.

  “We’re good.”

  Half an hour later, I spotted a huge banner overhead. The Big Leap. Bungee jumping?

  “You’re joking, right?” My heart thundered.

  “You never tried it. You told me once, remember? I’ve never tried either. It’s gotta be amazing.” His hand brushed my thigh. “You love to fly.”

  “Hang-gliding is flying. Bungee jumping is plummeting like a rock.”

  “You need to kick-start your life.”

  He said it so simply, so naively. He’d never lost anyone. As we rolled into the parking lot, I looked ahead at a narrow metal platform that stretched between two craggy mountainsides. Arms outstretched, a man readied himself for the plunge. He tipped forward and dove off the platform, screaming like a banshee. I opened the door and walked to the lookout, where I caught sight of him bouncing back into the air, still howling like it was better than sex. The scenery stole my breath. This place used to be a rock quarry, and at the bottom lay a clear blue lake.

  Faint tingles of excitement spread into my belly. It would be a lot like jumping out of a plane, but without terminal velocity. Instead of cruising toward land under the safety of a chute, I’d feel like I was crashing to earth, only to be yanked back into the air.

  “It’s the best site in the country,” Ryder explained. “Two hundred foot jump, one hundred and sixty foot rebound. It’s over water, so you can even try a head or body dip. One of my friends did it. He says it’s like falling to your death only at the last second somebody says ‘Just kidding!’”

  His eyes were alight. Mine should have been too.

  “Well?”

  I hesitated and chewed my lower lip until it hurt. Thoughts of cords snapping and bodies slamming into the water roiled in my head. How long was I planning to keep living like this? “Why not?”

  We walked over to a small ticket booth, where two husky-looking teenage boys waited in line behind a middle-aged couple. Middle-aged. Huh. They were practically my age. I was one year away from the big four-oh. Other than three young women in short shorts already en route to the walkway, there weren’t too many people around. I didn’t recognize anybody. Good. One of the boys, his hair completely shaved, looked at me and then at Ryder.

  Uh-oh. Could he tell? Did he know I had a thing for a guy only a few years older than my daughter? The woman in line ahead of us chatted eagerly with her husband, and then she turned to look in my direction too. Damn. Everybody knew I had the hots for him.

  I hung my head. “They know.”

  “Know what?”

  “About us.”

  “There’s an us?”

  “Not so loud!” Trying not to squirm, I looked down at my feet.

  “I hate to say this,” he said, like a doctor delivering a cancer diagnosis, “but I’m sure they think you’re my mother.”

  The thought stopped me cold. I groaned. As much as people picturing us in bed together filled me with horror, the idea that I was old enough—almost old enough—to be his mother was a million times worse. “I’m not that old!”

  “I’m teasing. Hey, if you want to convince them you’re not my mom, we need to do something moms never do with their sons. How about we bungee jump in the nude?”

  I stifled a laugh, picturing myself leaping into the void wearing only my tan lines. And Ryder, wow, my pulse raced at the thought of his bare skin. “We might start a new trend.” Our fingers brushed, and I didn’t pull away.

  The couple ahead of us finished paying, and Ryder and I stepped up to the window.

  “Wanna go tandem?” The teen girl in the booth snapped her gum and pushed a mane of pink hair out of her eyes. “We’ve got a special. Twenty-five percent off. Today only.”

  Snap. Snap. Snap. If she blew a bubble, I’d reach out and pop it right in her face. How easy was it to chew gum with a tongue ring, anyway?

  Ryder nudged me with his elbow. “Tandem sounds good, Mom.”

  Heat rose in my cheeks. My stomach roiled. “Tandem it is.”

  Ryder plunked down some bills. I imagined our bodies tied together at the ankles, standing face to face, waiting for the plunge.

  “You’ve got nerve,” I said.

  “Everybody says that.”

  But I liked it. After being weighed, we crossed over to the narrow walkway where the jumpmaster waited for us. His face was as brown and wrinkled as a pair of old leather boots.

  I stared over the edge. No words could describe this place. The drop beckoned. I didn’t remember the last time my blood pulsed through my veins in such a rapid, ecstatic beat.

  “Dip?” the jumpmaster asked, selecting bungee cords. He didn’t seem like the chatty type.

  Ryder and I shared a look. “Body,” he answered for me.

  “Okay,” the jumpmaster said, sounding rehearsed. He must have delivered the same speech hundreds of tim
es. “We put you in your own harnesses. We hook you to the rope. Then I hook you together. Sound good?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  As we got the harnesses on and our feet were tied together, I thought about my earthbound life. Leave it behind. Leap into the void.

  “Are you okay?” Ryder asked.

  “Yes.” Not a complete lie. The water beckoned.

  “Leap, and you’ll grow wings,” he said.

  Ryder’s enthusiasm infected me, and exhilaration coursed through my blood.

  “All set,” the jumpmaster said, checking our buckles for the last time. “When you rebound, don’t grab the cord, okay? I repeat, do not grab the cord!”

  The jumpmaster began his countdown. I stared into Ryder’s eyes, finding comfort in their deep brown. We stood inches from one another, arms stiffly by our sides. He mouthed, “Relax!”

  “Three. Two. One. Jump!”

  We tipped forward. Our feet lost contact with the ledge. Falling, plunging, plummeting into nothingness, straight toward the water’s glassy blue. Wind whipped my hair, tore screams from my mouth. Adrenaline spiked, flooding my bloodstream. The water loomed closer, closer, too close—splash!—underwater for a millisecond. The sudden snap of the cord. A jolt to my spine. Skybound once more, flying, flying, spraying water everywhere. A blur of blue. Ryder’s T-shirt. Sky. Lake water. A haze of gray-green cliffs and trees.

  Uncontrollable screams poured from my throat. Ryder howled like a wolf at the moon. We reached the summit of our rebound, and the plunge began again. Yes! Yes! Yes! The exhilaration. The acceleration. We didn’t reach the water this time, even though my fingertips begged to make contact with the lake’s surface.

  Skybound for the second time, leaving my stomach behind, the lake zipping away beneath us. I looked around, dazzled by the swift blur of the mountainside, the sparse trees, and Ryder’s grinning face. The ecstasy of flight. Ryder clung to me. I held on to him. In a crazy embrace, we plunged again, diving, swooning.

  The cord stretched to its full extent, and a second later we rushed up, up, up like I had wings. Head rush. Laughing, howling, we bobbed at the end of the cord over and over again. God, the exhilaration, the electrifying thrill. I knew how a bald eagle felt when it folded its wings and dropped like a stone toward the earth. I felt free. Uninhibited. All my guilt and worries had stayed behind on the ledge. Ryder and I dangled over the water, laughing.