Sensual Secrets

She didn’t turn back until she knew he was busy with her order. They’d talked before. Plenty of times. But in the past he’d never given her a second thought. Like most men, he’d looked through her instead of at her. His change in attitude was all the proof she needed that Jay’s attention was a joke. A cruel hoax. Oh God. She’d been so gullible.

“Here you go.” Brian put her cup down. “Cream, sugar?”

She shook her head, then turned away from him, wondering if she should just leave the coffee and go. She’d find another Internet café. This was impossible.

“You know much about Jay?”

She turned so quickly on the stool that she nearly fell off. “Pardon me?”

“Jay. You know, the dude who owns the Harley shop next door.”

“I know who he is. Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious. No reason. I’ve just known him for a long time is all.”

“And?”

He shrugged and swiped at his unruly hair. “He’s pretty cool. Smart as hell, too. Jay says he’ll be somewhere, he’ll be there.”

“Thank you. I’ll remember that.”

He grinned again, and she noticed he had those clear braces on his teeth. Hmm. He was well into his thirties, and she didn’t see many men his age with braces. Why was he telling her this stuff about Jay? Did he want her to feel even worse when she found out the truth? That didn’t make sense. Brian might not see her as a desirable woman, but he appreciated her money. After all, she was a regular customer. So if it wasn’t that, what was it?

She sipped her coffee, hardly tasting it as she juggled theories, none of them pleasing her at all.

“Uh, Amelia?”

Her train of thought derailed. He’d never called her Amelia. Or anything else for that matter. “Yes?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, okay?”

She cringed, wishing she had the nerve to throw her coffee in his face and run away.

“I’ve got this sister, see. And she went and got herself knocked up. Man, she’s as big as a house. Anyway, she has these clothes she’s giving away, and you look like you’d be about her size. I mean, the size she was.”

Amelia blinked. Charity? He wanted to give her clothes? Did she look like a street person or something? Her clothes were a little big, but that wasn’t a crime. Oh. Wait. Maybe he thought she wore clothes that were too big because she couldn’t afford things that fit her.

Her cheeks heated in that cursed way, and she forced herself not to overreact. “That’s nice of you,” she said, her voice remarkably calm. “But I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Sure. Yeah. Cool.”

Mercifully, he walked to the other side of the counter to wait on someone else. Seconds later, the man at her favorite workstation got up, and she darted for his seat. With Brian’s help, she’d made up her mind. She’d download all her work onto a floppy disk, and then she’d leave, never to return. What she couldn’t decide was if it was enough to simply leave the café, or if she’d have to leave New York. Even living in the same state as Jay might be too horribly painful.

She logged on with shaking fingers and went to her journal site. She’d have to buy a floppy disk, which meant she’d have to talk to Brian again. Not yet. Not until she pulled herself together.

The front door opened, and all hope of composure fled. Jay walked inside. Her heart fluttered, her stomach clenched, her cheeks reheated, and if she could have crawled into the disk drive of her computer, she would have. What had she been thinking? And why did she want him so badly? She closed her eyes, praying for Jay to ignore her.

“Amelia.”

So much for prayers. She opened her eyes but she didn’t look at him. “What—” She cleared her throat. “What can I do for you?”

He didn’t answer, and finally she gave in and looked up at him. His face was a mask of concern. As if he cared. Right.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing that concerns you.”

“Whoa. It must be bad.” He snagged a chair from against the wall and brought it right next to hers. “Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

He sighed. “Okay. Have it your way.”

“I intend to.”

“But, surely you won’t mind if I talk.”

“Actually I have to—”

“I’ve just got this question I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

She didn’t want to know the question. She didn’t want to feel this way just because he was near.

He leaned over and put his hand on her arm. His touch set off electrical charges that shot up and down her body. And it was only three fingers.

“I was wondering,” he said, his voice much softer, huskier, than a moment ago, “if you’ve ever been on a Harley.”

“Pardon me?”

“A Harley-Davidson. It’s a motorcycle—”

“I know what it is.” She turned on him, her confusion overriding her embarrassment. “Why would you ask me that?”

He smiled that cocky grin she loved and hated. “I want to take you for a ride.”

She opened her mouth, but, as was becoming something of a pattern, nothing came out.

“I see you on my bike. Your arms wrapped around my waist. I see you gripping the seat between your legs, feeling the vibrations. You’d like the wind, Amelia.”

He scooted his chair closer, and the hand on her arm gripped her more tightly. She was incapable of turning away. His gaze had her rooted to the spot, his intensity blocking out the rest of the world. “I dreamt it. We’re supposed to do this. We’re supposed to take that ride.”

She swallowed as she tried to calm her thundering heart. Either she was nuts, or he was. Because, oh my God, she’d dreamt the exact same thing.

4

DAMN, HE WAS GOOD. The look on her face was everything he’d hoped. Surprised…no, astonished, confused, vulnerable. Perfect. And oddly touching.

Funny how he felt as if he knew her more intimately than reading her journal should allow. Or maybe it was just the remnants of his youthful romanticism that spurred this sentimental streak. This was about sex, and he didn’t want to forget that. And it wasn’t just for his sake, either. Amelia needed help. She’d said it herself. She needed someone like him to set her free. Hell, he was doing her a favor.