Beauty & the Biker by Beth Ciotta

kindness under all that gruff. Look how you tended my injuries.” This bold pursuit was so unlike her. Regardless, she pressed. “So will you kiss me?”
    He studied her hard as if assessing her mental stability. To be expected she supposed. He’d probably pegged her as the stereotypical buttoned-up librarian and here she was asking—practically begging—to be kissed. But then she saw it. A flicker of curiosity. She told herself to breathe.
    “If you’re using me to make this guy jealous.”
    “God, no.”
    “Or angry—”
    “Here’s the deal,” she said, bursting with anticipation. Is he or is he not a magical kisser ? Because if he was, that was her sign. “Carson—that’s my ex, except he hasn’t accepted that fact—thinks he’s perfect for me.”
    “What do you think?”
    She didn’t want to detail her history with Carson. Admitting the reasons behind her poor judgment and bemoaning his manipulative pursuit were too personal. She’d glossed over the emotional aspects with her closest friends. Why in God’s name would she share them with a stranger?
    Oddly enough, she didn’t feel the same when it came to citing their less than magical physical relations. Which only affirmed how impersonal those relations were. Her cheeks burned, but the words flowed.
    “Carson doesn’t inspire earthquakes and fireworks, if you catch my drift. Then again no one ever has. Not that there’ve been that many,” she added. “I need to know it’s not me. That I’m not, I don’t know, broken somehow. That I’m not expecting too much. That there’s…hope. Don’t get a swelled head or any kinky thoughts, but I think you’re gorgeous—in a menacing kind of way—and fascinating. Like a tortured hero in a gothic novel. You make my insides squishy. That’s a first. In real life anyway—as opposed to going all soft for a fictional guy in film or literature. If you can’t shake my world then, well…maybe I should settle for Carson.”
    “Are you done?”
    Blushing profusely, Bella shied away. So much for derring-do .
    Savage caught her elbow and pulled her close. “Don’t get a swelled head or any kinky ideas, but I think you’re beautiful—in an irritating angelic way.” He stroked her cheek then threaded his hands through her hair. “How old are you anyway?”
    “Twenty-nine.”
    “You seem younger.”
    “How old are you?” she asked.
    “Thirty-five.”
    “You seem older.”
    His mouth crooked, implying a sense of humor. Ideal quality #1 . “Do you want the earth to tilt?” he asked. “Or spin?”
    It was the kind of arrogance Carson flaunted every day. Only Bella suspected Savage would make good on his offer. “You can do that?”
    He held her gaze, weaving a seductive spell with spine-tingling silence.
    “Spin, please,” she managed before the universe shimmied and glittered.
    His embrace was tender yet possessive. His mouth soft and teasing then hard and demanding. This kiss… This . Kiss . Was overwhelming. All consuming. It buzzed through her body, head to toe, heart to soul.
    Lost.
    In a magical kiss .
    Bewitched.
    Forever and always .
    She curled her fingers into his shoulders, his hair. Holding tight as the world spun off its axis.
    She responded to his touch, his heat, his need.
    She pressed against his body. Wanting more. Needing more.
    His desire was evident and pushed Bella over the edge. She imploded, trembling with an aftermath of erotic sensations.
    Orgasmic nirvana .
    Compliments of a kiss.
    Savage’s kiss.
    “You’re not broken.”
    His words cut through her sensual haze. Bella grappled for reality and balance. Heat suffused her cheeks as she bolstered her noodly limbs and met his intoxicating gaze. Assaulted by physical yearning and a riot of emotions, she could scarcely breathe. “Good. Great. Thank you.”
    She backed out of his lethal embrace, willed dignity, and channeled the Inseparables. Any one of her friends was worldlier than her. Try as she might Bella