Brides, Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters
He needed to keep a cool head here—among other body parts. She was not for him. Only a complete asshole would take advantage of a woman in this situation. Seth was many things, but he didn’t think he was an asshole, complete or otherwise.
She turned in his arms, and Seth forced himself to step back and assess the situation. Luckily, the corset didn’t ride as low in the back as it did in the front. He could see where the petticoat was tied—in a knot.
Of course it was knotted.
He was tempted to just cut the damn thing off her body, but then a shiver raced over her skin. Brandishing a blade wasn’t the best way to keep her calm, so Seth gritted his teeth and got on with it. It felt like it took forever, but after only a minute or so, the knot finally gave. “Now what?” he asked as the waistband sagged down around her hips.
She didn’t answer for a moment. “I had to step into it and they pulled it up because...” She swallowed. “Because it’s so structured, it won’t fall on its own. So I guess you’ll have to push it down and I’ll step out of it.” Her voice shook.
Just for the ride, Seth repeated as he grabbed the waistband of the petticoat and worked it over her hips. Structured must mean able to stand upright on its own, because the damned fabric had no give in it at all. What kind of fresh hell was this, anyway?
The petticoat slipped over her skin, and he had to bite back his groan. He barely knew this woman and he wasn’t even sure he liked her. But as he revealed the frilly lace of the white thong and the bare cheeks of her bottom, liking had nothing to do with it. His mouth went dry and his hands started to shake.
His instincts—they were pushing him past protective and into raw lust. He was strong, but how strong did one man have to be? Because he wasn’t sure he could handle the way that thong left her bottom completely exposed.
Then it only got worse as he wrestled the petticoat down and revealed inch by creamy inch of her legs and bare skin. Why couldn’t she be wearing those supportive bike shorts that some women wore instead of this scrap of lace? Why couldn’t she be wearing a simpler outfit? Why couldn’t she be someone who didn’t inspire this reaction in him?
It only got worse when he hit the top of her thigh-high stockings and the blue garter on her right leg. Of course it matched the blue trim on her corset.
Roger, Seth concluded, was an idiot to let this woman go. Because Seth was pretty sure that he was going to have fantasies about this moment for the rest of his natural life.
He struggled not to touch her skin—but his hands shook even harder with the effort of it. Although he had to fight all that “structure” for every damned inch, he managed to get the petticoat pushed down to the ground, which meant that he was at eye level with her bottom. And it was perhaps one of the nicer bottoms he had ever seen. Firm and rounded and begging to be touched.
Except it wasn’t. This was not a seduction. This was an action born of necessity. He would not touch her. She’d already had a bad day, and being groped by a biker wouldn’t make anything better.
“Now what?” His voice cracked with the strain of trying to sound normal. “Do you just step out?” That was when he realized she didn’t have on shoes. They were standing on gravel. Had she been missing her shoes the entire time?
“I...I don’t want to lose my balance,” she said in a strangled-sounding voice. Before Seth could process what she meant by that, she turned. Which was good due to the fact that he was no longer staring at her ass.
But now he was staring at her front. The thin lace of her virginal white thong covered the vee of her sex and everything about Seth came to a screeching halt. His blood, his breath—nothing worked. He couldn’t even blink as he stared at her body.
It only got worse when she placed one hand on his shoulder for balance. Seth squeezed his eyes shut because there was no point in looking if he couldn’t have her, and he couldn’t have her. Offering anything beyond assistance would be a mistake. She’d run away from a wedding today. She was pregnant with another man’s baby. None of her was for him.
Even though his eyes were closed, the scent of her body surrounded him, torturing him. It wasn’t the scent of arousal, but there was no missing the sweet notes of flowers—maybe lilacs, and a hint of vanilla that had been buried underneath the layers. Her smell reached out and stroked him, making him shake with need.
She stepped out of the petticoat and—thankfully—let go of the skirt. It fell, covering her legs and hiding that lacy thong and those white thigh-highs and that garter belt from his eyes. Seth gave himself another few moments to make sure he had himself under control.
Then she let out a little cry and stumbled. He moved without thinking, catching her before she fell. His arms folded around her body and finally, he was able to pull him to her.
But despite his awareness of her body—and the fact that her arms went around his neck so that he could feel her breasts pressing against his chest—he didn’t miss the way she shivered or how her breathing was ragged.
“Easy,” he said, coming to his feet with her in his arms.
“I stepped on a rock,” she said, her voice wavering. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears again, and that hurt him in a way he hadn’t expected.
He wanted to make sure she didn’t hurt. He’d wanted that from the very beginning. But now, it felt more personal.
He didn’t understand this strange drive to take care of her. He could’ve called her a ride. Surely someone could’ve come to get her. Rapid City had taxis, and for a price they could’ve made it out this far.
But he hadn’t. He hadn’t done anything except hold her close and make sure she was okay.
He didn’t want to think too much about why.
He carried her over to his bike and sat her on the back. He gave thanks that his father had built this prototype with the passenger seat behind the driver’s seat. Part of Billy Bolton’s rigorous testing was to make sure that he took Seth’s mom, Jenny, out for rides with him. Billy claimed that sometimes, the additional weight of a passenger would reveal design flaws that needed to be tweaked. Because Seth didn’t want to consider any other options about what happened when his parents went out riding, he accepted that explanation at face value.
“I’ll put the petticoat in the car and then we’ll go, okay?” he said. “But you’re going to have to straddle the bike. See if you can figure that out with your skirts.” He waved a hand over her dress and hoped like hell he wouldn’t have to take the whole thing off to get her corset removed.
But even as he thought that, his brain decided it would be a really great idea. He would kill to see Kate Burroughs in nothing but a corset and some stockings and a garter. Splayed out on the bed, a package that Seth was almost done unwrapping.
He slammed the brakes on that line of thought. Nope. She had too many bags to carry, and he was a single twenty-five-year-old man. He had no interest in tangling with someone whose personal life was as messy as Kate Burroughs’s was. No matter how good she looked, no matter how sweet she smelled, no matter how much she’d clung to his neck.
No matter how right she’d felt in his arms.
She nodded and he went back to get the petticoat. It was all dirty with rocks and bits of grass stuck in it. He shoved it into the back of the limo and glanced around, hoping against hope that there would be a purse with a wallet, but nothing. There was some champagne that was probably warm, though. But he didn’t think that’d help anything right now.
He locked the limo and left the keys on the ground on the inside of the front driver’s-side wheel, where Stein had told him to leave them. True dark was settling now and it was going to be a long, cold ride back to Rapid City. It wouldn’t be so bad if he had his jacket, but he couldn’t let her freeze to death behind him.
The other logistical problem was that he only had one helmet. He had no idea if it would