Chapter One
Chicago As assignments went, this one was odd. But as a private investigator, Lily West did what she was hired to do. Her latest mission was to attempt to break into the museum, test the night security team and see if they were doing their job.
Easy enough. She’d been casing the museum for the past week. The day shift was tight and doing a fine job handling the large crowds coming in to see the traveling Star of Egypt exhibit of artifacts. The day crew was also busy enough to allow her to wander around and study everything, map it all out, so she’d know what to look for at night.
She’d gotten her answers. The night crew was severely lax, and the museum’s overall security system sucked. No one patrolled outside and the guys mostly sat on their asses in the front lobby and talked to each other instead of making rounds.
Lucky for them not a damn thing had been going on.
These guys should be fired, which is probably what her client already suspected. She intended to hang out awhile longer and keep watch on the off chance the donut-eating morons inside might get up off their asses and decide to do their jobs for a change. Though it was probably a waste of her time. She could do cartwheels naked across the front lawn and those guys wouldn’t notice her.
A motorcycle roared by, its loud pipes obliterating the quiet. That low-throated rumble never failed to get her attention. Or remind her of Mac. Not that he was ever far from her thoughts.
Bored and restless, she leaned against a tree and watched the front entrance. It didn’t take long for thoughts of Mac to enter her mind.
She’d always fantasized about riding him on his Harley.
She stayed hidden within the darkness, remembering how many times that particular fantasy had brought her to a blistering orgasm.
She’d hear him first—the roar of his bike rumbling in the distance. Her body would come alive. Like the vibrations of the machine, she’d tremble and hum. Her clit would purr, her ni**les quiver, her pu**y quake with the force of a rocketing engine. He’d pull up in front of her house and shut the engine off, but the steady beat of its power would still growl within her. He wouldn’t bother to knock, because he knew she’d be waiting for him.
She was lost in the fantasy now. The wind from the open living room window blew over her naked pu**y, heightening her arousal. She’d worn her sundress and nothing else, wanting to give him easy access to her body. She clenched her hands, awaiting the moment he would touch her aching heat, relieve the burning need flaming inside her.
The front door opened, the light from the table lamp backlit his tall frame. Worn jeans lovingly framed his muscled thighs. Too hot for his leather jacket. Just a T-shirt stretched tight over his broad shoulders and wide chest. The harsh planes of his face drew her eye. He had that bad boy look. Always had. That had been the first thing to attract her to him. Sexy.
Forbidden. Oh, she’d wanted him.
As soon as he reached the sofa he dropped to his knees, placed his hands on her thighs just under the hem of her dress.
“You smell like spring, baby,” he whispered.
She gazed at him, drinking him in like cool water on a hot summer afternoon. He quenched her thirst like no man ever could.
“Hurry,” she said.
“You need it.”
“Yes.”
He raised her dress over her hips, baring her pu**y to his gaze. God, he turned her on when he looked at her like that.
Hungry, his whiskey brown eyes going dark. He licked his lips, bent over her and kissed below her belly button. Her abdomen quivered and she let out a whimper.
“Shh,” he breathed against her skin, then reached for the strap of her dress, drawing it down and freeing her br**sts.
Her ni**les peaked and hardened as he covered one of the mounds with his palm, gently rubbing back and forth. She arched into his hand.
Hot, flaming her desire to an inferno.
He swept his mouth lower, kissing her mound before delving into her cleft with his tongue, finding the hood of her clit and circling it.
Maddening. She tangled her fingers into his hair, trying to direct him. He said something, his voice muffled against her skin. The words were unintelligible, almost like a chuckle.
He was teasing her. She loved it. She hated it. She wanted to climax, to come in his mouth, to pour her cream over his tongue. She’d denied herself too long.
“Mac, please.”
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against her thigh.
No man ever challenged her like this, ever brought out the wildness within her. But Mac did. He made her crazy, made her want to tell him exactly what she needed.
“Lick me. Make me come.” She squeezed her bu**ocks and lifted her hips, offering herself to him.
He dragged his body over hers and parted her legs, then covered her sex with his mouth. She moaned when he slid two fingers inside her pu**y, then sucked on her clit while he finger f**ked her.
Yes! This is what she needed. The pulses began to sharpen, heat building and melting inside her. She thrashed around on the couch, unable to hold still as she built to a crescendo with every hot lick of his velvety tongue against her throbbing flesh.
He knew just where her pleasure points were. Yes, right there. She was going to fly. She didn’t want it to end, yet she needed it.
“I’m coming, Mac! I’m going to come in your mouth.”
She heard his groan, felt it vibrate against her bare skin, and then she couldn’t hold back, crashing against him as the waves of orgasm coursed through her. She held his head against her pu**y, rocking up and down as she splintered into a million pieces, shuddering and shaking.
No man could make her come like Mac could. She sighed in utter satisfaction.
The sound of the motorcycle returning shook her out of her fantasy. She blinked, fanning away the self-induced heat that spiraled up inside her.
It had been ten years since she’d last seen him and just thinking about him could still make her hot, could take her out of herself and turn her into some wild, hungry creature so unlike her real self. She wished… Ah, whatever. She could wish all she wanted, but she needed to focus on reality.
She saw the bike flying fast and furious down the busy main street, its silver chrome a flash of lightning under the street lights. Shit. Here she was, dreaming about Mac and she was supposed to be working. The moronic so-called crack security team was still hanging around the lobby. Eating snacks, no less.
Getting in was going to be easy.
She skirted through the trees, though stealth wasn’t really required since no one was on the lookout. But then she heard the motorcycle again. Closer this time. She darted behind a tree and watched as the rider cut his engine and pulled into a dark alley about a half a block away. She waited to see if he’d appear out of the alley, but he didn’t. Still, instinct told her there was something not quite right about this, so she stayed hidden among the trees.