Emerging Temptation: A BWWM Romance Limited Edition Collection Read online

  Anya had filled his thoughts. It had been a constant struggle for him to concentrate on anything but her.

  “Everything good?” Max asked.

  “Yeah, my mother and father have been arguing over her car. She wants me to come to check out a noise she says she hears.” He chuckled.

  His parents had been married going on forty years, and they indeed argued like it. His father said there was no noise, and his mother swore up and down she heard a rattle.

  “Isn’t her car brand-new?”

  Dalton glanced over at Max and sighed. “Yup.”

  Anya propped her feet up on her parents’ table on their porch.

  This was life.

  The sun was finally lowering in the sky; she was again getting used to the desert heat.

  At the moment, instead of writing, she was doing one of her favorite pastimes.

  Reading.

  Finding Glenn in her apartment had shaken her up. Since she’d arrived at her parents’ home, she felt safe and secure. Tomorrow she planned to go to the courthouse and file the order of protection and then stop by the police department as Officer Cain had suggested.

  She just couldn’t do it today. Even thinking about the previous night had her nauseated.

  Tomorrow.

  She’d borrow her father’s car and take care of her business. Amina had to work; therefore, she would have to pull up her big girl panties and go file the paperwork alone. There was plenty enough evidence back in Georgia that should grant her the same protection here in Las Vegas.

  The roar of a motorcycle engine broke into her thoughts. Her gaze landed on a giant metal beast with a familiar form sitting proudly on the machine.

  Dalton.

  She had thought he’d been sexy before.

  Now, seeing him on his bike had her practically drooling. She was mesmerized by the sight of him pulling into his parents’ driveway. He parked in front of the garage and killed the engine. Silence surrounded her, aside from the sound of her heart pounding.

  He glanced her way and threw his leg over the bike. Anya bit her lip, watching him walk toward her.

  If she had known he would be at his folks’ house, she would have put on something more appealing than a tank and shorts.

  “Surprised to see you here.” His mouth turned up into a wide grin. His eyes were hidden by the dark shades on his face.

  Anya’s mouth grew dry, and she took in his t-shirt that outlined his perfect physique and the jeans that fit him oh so well.

  “Just hanging out. How are you?” Anya asked, finally able to find her voice.

  He leaned against the brick pillar and stared at her. She fought the urge to shift in her chair. It had been a warm day, and now she was under his scrutiny, she was super-conscious about what she must look like.

  “I’m good now,” he murmured. He pushed his glasses up on his head.

  Never would she have thought that move would have been sexy, but seeing Dalton do it had her core clenching. Everything about him made her body supersensitive. Her fingers ached to take down that damn ponytail and run her fingers through his hair. She loved how he kept the sides shaved close.

  “What’s going on?” She cleared her throat. She sent up a prayer that he wouldn’t be able to hear the nerves in her voice. Memories of that damn kiss hadn’t left her since.

  “I came over to check on something for my mother.” His gaze dropped down to her bare toes that wiggled in the slight wind that blew. It felt good on her feet, and she couldn’t help it. “How about you?”

  She shrugged. There was no way she wanted to tell him she was too scared to stay at her home. Dalton wouldn’t want to hear about her problems with her ex.

  “Just didn’t want to stay by myself in my apartment. It gets lonely a little. I think I was more homesick than I thought.” There, she’d only told a small white lie. Living alone could be isolating, and sometimes she wanted to hear someone else’s voice besides her own.

  “You have any plans?” he asked quietly.

  Anya gulped, and she squeezed her e-reader device tight.

  She was saved from answering by the front door opening.

  “I thought I heard voices out here.” Anya’s mother stepped out of the house.

  Stella Graham was a beautiful woman who didn’t appear her age. Anya hoped she would look half as good as her once she got older. Anya was Stella’s mirror image. She’d seen pictures of her mother back in her younger days, and they could have been twins.

  “Dalton, it’s so good to see you.”

  “Hey, Mrs. Graham.” He pushed off the pillar and hugged her. “How are you and the mister?”

  “We are doing well. I was just talking with Leah, saying that I hadn’t seen you in a while.” Stella and Leah, Dalton’s mother, were close friends and had lunch together at least once a week.

  “I’ve been around.” He chuckled, stepping back. “The city has been keeping me busy.”

  “I’ve heard. It’s such a shame there have been so many fires lately. I heard about that house that burned down this morning,” Stella said with a shake of her head. “I hope the family was unharmed.”

  “They should be doing fine. Last I heard, the hospital was keeping them overnight for observation for smoke inhalation.”

  “Good, I was praying for them.” Stella turned toward Anya. “Did you hear about it?”

  “No, Momma. I was writing this morning,” she admitted sheepishly. She’d woken up feeling fresh and creative. She’d been glued to her computer. The world could have come crashing down around her, and she wouldn’t have realized it. Her new book was taking shape quite nicely, and she’d made a lot of headway.

  “You’ve heard about Anya’s writing?” Stella always bragged about Anya. If ever she had a hype man or woman, it was Stella Graham. She was a proud momma and told everyone who would listen about Anya and her author career.

  “That I have. Anya told me about it the other day.” Dalton nodded.

  “Oh, you two have seen each other before today?” Stella’s voice had a funny tilt to it.

  Anya bit back a groan. She knew that tone in her mother’s voice. Stella must have read her last few books because the woman had been all about Anya finding someone new in her life to sweep her off her feet.

  “Yes.” Anya cleared her throat. She dropped her feet to the floor. “When my car died, it just happened to do it in front of the fire station where Dalton works.”

  “What a coincidence,” Stella murmured.

  Anya rolled her eyes.

  “Well, I was coming over here to see if Anya wanted to go for a ride on my bike,” Dalton announced.

  “What?” Anya’s voice squeaked.

  “That sounds like fun!” Her mother laughed.

  Anya’s gaze met Dalton’s. His eyes crinkled in the corners while he bit his lip, apparently to keep from chuckling.

  “I’ve never been on a bike before,” Anya admitted.

  “I’ll take outstanding care of you.” Dalton folded his arms in front of his chest.

  “Go ahead, Anya. You know Dalton wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Remember when you were a little girl, and those bullies were messing with you? He and Dallas—”

  “I remember, Mom.” Anya cringed. She didn’t want to be reminded of a time when she was bullied and needed to be rescued. Her parents had always been thankful for the way Dalton and Dallas had watched out for her. With her being the only child, she didn’t have any siblings to have her back. The McNeil boys had been good guys, and it was one of the reasons Anya had been infatuated by Dalton.

  But the Dalton in front of her had her practically orgasming with just a look.

  Pull it in, girl. Your mother is standing right here.

  “What do you say, Anya?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow.

  Her gaze flickered back and forth between him and her mother, who was just standing there, grinning.

  What did she have to lose?

  “Okay, but I need to put on
real clothes,” she huffed, setting her e-reader down on the table before her.

  “That’s fine. It will give me time to do a favor for my mother.”

  Anya stood, trying to beat down the butterflies in her belly.

  Her, Dalton, and a motorcycle… What did she just sign up for?

  7

  “Safety first,” Dalton announced. He reached to the back of his bike and grabbed his helmet. Dalton didn’t know what had come over him, asking Anya to go ride with him while her mother stood there. Subconsciously, he had a small sense of doubt in the back of his head.

  What if she would have said no?

  Now, with her standing in front of him, he knew it had been a sound decision. Her wide eyes were staring up at him, and his heart did a little dance.

  “The helmet may mess up my hair,” she muttered, smoothing her dark tresses down with her hands.

  “Messed up hair or brain damage? Take your pick.” He chuckled.

  “Well, since you put it that way.” She rolled her eyes, and a smile graced her beautiful lips.

  Lips he’d tasted.

  Needed to again.

  He drew in a ragged breath, trying to regain control of himself.

  Dalton closed the gap between them to allow him to carefully put the helmet on her head, securing the strap underneath her chin. He breathed in her scent, and his cock hardened. Her soft, flowery perfume awoke something in him. He wanted to nuzzle his face in the crook of her neck and bask in her smell.

  Her soft, brown, flawless skin made his fingers ache. He wanted to strip all the clothing from her body and go on an exploration. He wanted to see all of her, the color of her areolae, discover if she had any tattoos or piercings, and see what her —

  He paused that train of thought. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable ride with a hard dick.

  “There,” he murmured, stepping back from her.

  “Thanks. How do I look?” She moved away from him and playfully struck a pose, modeling her new accessory. She’d gone and changed her clothes, putting on a pair of jeans that looked as if she had to be poured into them. Her dark shirt hung off one shoulder, and she’d put on light makeup. Her feet were encased in a pair of casual shoes.

  “Beautiful.”

  There was no denying that. Anya was a knockout, thick in all the right places. He was a large man and needed a woman whose curves would fill his hands.

  Her gaze narrowed, and she stepped toward him. She tilted her head back and stared up at him. “Is this our official first date or something?”

  “Whatever you want it to be.” He reached out and ran a finger along her plump bottom lip.

  Before the night was over, he’d be getting another taste of her.

  Her lips spread into a killer smile.

  Unable to resist, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

  “Date it is,” she breathed, her eyes opening.

  “Your chariot awaits.” He took her hand and guided her toward the bike. He threw a leg over and motioned for her to get seated behind him. She slid on, and he bit back a groan. “Wrap your arms around me.”

  She leaned forward and did as he’d suggested. Her breasts were crushed against his back, and her thighs pressed alongside him. He swore a slight moan escaped from her.

  “Like this?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Yeah.” His voice came out strangled. He turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life. He guided the bike down the driveway and onto the street. He gave it some gas, and they were off.

  Anya squealed and tightened her grip on him. Dalton’s laugh was cut short when her legs squeezed him.

  Images of her legs wrapped around him while he thrust deep inside her came to mind.

  Cool it, man, before you crash this damn bike.

  He released a deep breath and just rode.

  It felt good to have the wind in his face and a sexy woman on his bike with him.

  Soon Anya’s death grip on him loosened, and she settled in as if she’d been riding for years.

  They continued riding around the city and headed down Las Vegas Boulevard. He stopped at the red light and glanced around. People were everywhere, strolling down the sidewalks. Traffic wasn’t too bad. Once the sun went down, all of the tourists would come out of the woodwork. Most people weren’t used to the desert sun and heat. It did take some getting used to. Dalton had lived his entire life in Vegas and was comfortable with it. His gaze landed on the fake New York skyline of one of the popular hotels and casinos.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve been on the strip,” Anya shouted over the sound of the bike.

  That wasn’t too uncommon. Most natives to the city avoided the strip unless they were going to see a show. The city of Las Vegas was actually quiet and not as fast-paced as many people would imagine. It was a community-oriented town, and that was why most people relocated there.

  “Me neither.” The light changed to green. He pressed on the gas and drove on.

  Anya’s gasps and laughter had a smile remaining on his lips. A lot had changed on the strip since she’d moved away. He pointed out new hotels and restaurants.

  Pretty soon, he was guiding the bike into his driveway. He cut the engine, allowing silence to surround them.

  “This is your home?” Anya asked, climbing off the bike.

  “Yeah.” He dismounted and helped her remove the helmet.

  She ran her fingers through her hair and looked around. He glanced at his house, and pride swelled in his chest. He’d fallen in love with it when he’d first seen it. It was more than a single man would need, but deep in his heart, he wanted to fill it with a family.

  His gaze settled on Anya.

  “It’s beautiful. Does it have a pool?”

  “Of course.” He snorted. What self-respecting Vegas native would he be without a pool? “Come on. I promised you I’d show you my toys, and if you play your cards right, I’ll cook for you.” He pulled her purse out of his saddlebags and handed it to her.

  “Oooh, you cook?” she teased.

  He grabbed her hand, needing to feel her. He tugged her to follow behind him.

  “Of course I do. I’m a fireman. I didn’t get this size eating takeout all the time. Plus, with the men I work with, they eat. A lot.” He snickered, thinking about his crew. They were all in top shape, and due to workouts, most of the guys had to consume high calories.

  They walked around to the side door of his garage. One of the reasons he’d fallen in love with the home was the size of the garage. He comfortably used the extra bay to store his bikes he worked on, creating a shop that didn’t take away where he parked his vehicle.

  He flicked on the light and paused.

  Anya came to stand beside him. “Oh, wow. These are nice.”

  She released his hand and moved over to where his bikes were stored.

  He strolled behind her, watching as she took in his older bikes.

  She turned to him. “So this is what the great Dalton McNeil tinkers on when not fighting fires?”

  “It’s not tinkering. I restore them,” Dalton clarified.

  “Oh, sorry.” She giggled.

  Dalton liked the sound of her laugh and wanted to hear it more often.

  “These are my babies. Let me introduce you to this black-and-gray machine.” They stepped over a few parts he’d left on the floor. “This here is a nineteen eighty-two Yamaha XV750.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Anya gushed. She walked up to it and ran her hand along the silver handlebar.

  Dalton loved this bike. He’d found an ad in the paper a few months ago, and it snagged his attention. The price was low and just what he’d wanted to pay. Dalton had gone and picked it up immediately. He loved this model of a bike. The parts were cheap, and the Japanese built reliable bikes that weren’t too complicated to restore.

  “What do you do with the bikes once you are finished fixing them?” Anya asked, facing him.

  “Most times, I sell them t
o collectors.” He joined her next to the Yamaha and patted the black leather seat. “But this one, I think I’m going to keep her once I’m done.”

  He wandered around the machine and took in his handiwork. He didn’t have much more to do to the bike before it would be in riding condition.

  “I had fun.” Anya glanced at him with a sparkle in her eyes. “You made my first ride on a motorcycle interesting.”

  His eyebrows rose at the remark. “Interesting?”

  “I never thought I’d be on the back of some hot guy’s bike—” She stopped suddenly with wide eyes.

  He barked a laugh and ambled over to her. “So, I’m hot, huh?”

  She did a dramatic eye roll and shook her head. “As if you didn’t know. You and your brother were always the talk of the neighborhood.”

  He took her hand in his and tugged her to him. “That’s not what I asked you.” He couldn’t care less about what the neighborhood had thought back when they were younger.

  He wanted to know what she thought now.

  She leaned into him, her head tilted back to meet his gaze. “I think you are the sexiest man alive,” she whispered.

  He swooped his head down with a growl. He covered her lips with his. A gasp escaped her, but she didn’t shy away from him. The kiss was intense and deep. He loved the feel of her soft body melting against his.

  His dick sprang to life from the sensation of holding Anya close.

  He tore his mouth from hers. They were both breathing heavily. He stared down at Anya while her eyes were still closed. She opened them, her gaze unfocused.

  “Wow,” she breathed, blinking several times.

  He didn’t know what it was about her, but whenever she was near him, all thoughts went out the window. He couldn’t think straight, and having her near drove his cock crazy.

  He needed to be buried inside her.

  “I promised you food.” He drew in a shaky breath, willing his dick to go back down. He reached up and smoothed her hair down, trailing his fingers along her cheek. “I always keep my word.”