The final book in Devney Perry’s Clifton Forge series is releasing next week, and as we bid farewell to Clifton Forge, Montana, we are reminded once again what a tremendous storyteller this author truly is. With a tale that grips you by the throat from the very first page, Perry serves up the perfect storm to bring together two people who were destined to hate one another, and I am so honoured to give you a little sneak peek.
I’d just collected a cart and was walking toward the produce section when a gravelly voice caught my ear.
Gotta love small towns. I smiled and turned toward Emmett as he strode my way with a bottle of water in his hand. “Hey, Ace.”
The corner of his mouth turned up and the urge to kiss him came over me so strongly that I clutched the handles of the shopping cart, holding on so I wouldn’t go to him. So I wouldn’t appear as desperate as I really was for a touch.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
He held up his water. “Hitting the road for a ride.”
“Ah.” I nodded. So he wouldn’t be at The Betsy. That would save me a trip to the bar.
“What do you say?”
“To coming along.” There was a glint in his eyes, one that told me we wouldn’t just be riding his bike.
I answered by abandoning my cart and strutting toward the doors.
Emmett was right behind me, his gaze leaving a scorching trail down my neck, over my shoulders and settling on my ass. Motives aside, it was heady to be wanted by a man like Emmett. To be craved as much as I craved. To be desired by a man I lusted for with every fiber in my being.
Maybe I liked our nights together too much.
Some other night, I’d sort that out in my head. But tonight, I wanted to ride.
We hit the parking lot and I walked to my car, stowing my purse in the backseat and plucking my sunglasses out of the cup holder.
Emmett was waiting on his bike when I locked the car’s doors.
I went to him and hiked up my skirt.
He grinned as I put both hands on his shoulders and straddled the seat behind him. There wasn’t much space but I held on tight, smashing our bodies together. My skirt rode up so high my thighs beside his were bare.
“That’s hot, baby.” He trailed a hand up my skin.
I wound my arms around his waist and pressed my palms against the snug cotton of his T-shirt, feeling the washboard abs beneath. “Pretty hot yourself, Ace.”
I nodded, molding my chest to the roped muscles of his back.
Emmett’s masculine scent, spice and earth and leather, filled my nose and I rested my cheek against his shoulder, dragging it in.
I closed my eyes and for just a moment, I wasn’t June Johnson. I wasn’t Tucker Talbot’s daughter. Emmett wasn’t my enemy, and this wasn’t all part of some grand scheme to get my revenge.
For just a moment, I was a woman who shared a primal attraction with this sexy man. This man who pushed me to shed my inhibitions and be free.
The vibration and noise of the engine snapped my eyes open. I tightened my hold before Emmett shot out of the parking lot and aimed us out of town to the highway.
The air whipped through my hair and the smile on my face was impossible to hold back.
How many times had I seen Dad ride off, wishing I could be with him? Wishing he would let me sit on his motorcycle, just once? But it had been as forbidden as my real name.
Not today. Today I got to ride. As we settled into an easy cruise, the road as warm beneath us as the sun was above, I straightened. I gripped Emmett with my thighs and let my arms loose. The moment my arms unwrapped from around him, he dropped one hand to hold my knee and keep me steady.
He gave me the freedom to let go.
I opened, stretching my fingers to tickle the wind. And I flew.
Tonight, I’d fly.
Tomorrow, I’d get back to business.