Slow Ride

She was fixated on it, waiting breathlessly for him to take her. She needed it badly. Now.

His fingers danced between her thighs, then retreated to stroke her backside, each intimate touch sending another shock wave reverberating through her. His tongue swirled into the shallow cup of her belly button. Even that was intense and erotic.

“It’s okay,” Rory said, pushing to her elbows. “I’m ready. You can—uh…you know.”

Tucker looked up, his expression as taunting as his fingers. “Tell me.”

She did. Two words that left nothing to the imagination. No sense in being coy about it.

“I’ll get to that,” he promised, “soon enough.”

“But you must be hurting by now. I know I am.”

He smiled tightly. “Let me take this trip my way. The slow, scenic route.”

“Whatever you like. But don’t say I didn’t offer.”

His hot-as-sin gaze traveled down her body. “Darling, there’s no missing your open invitation.”

Dear Reader,

Do you believe in fate? I often wonder how couples that were “meant to be” find each other. Fate’s got to play a part. But if that’s so, what happens when fate is fiddled with? Or was that also meant to be? Hmm…

Tucker and Rory, the fated couple in the third book of the LOCK & KEY trilogy, come together at a key party, where random matches are the name of the game. Or maybe not. With this book I wanted to explore a different type of falling in love. Not love at first sight, but a slower realization that relies on an attraction of minds and personalities as well as physical heat. Though there’s no lack of that, for certain!

I hope you enjoy traveling with Tucker and Rory on their Slow Ride to love.

Carrie Alexander

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For my key partners, Jamie and Shannon, with thanks and appreciation. Working with two of my favorite writers was a true pleasure!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

“WANT TO SLIP IT TO ME?” a sultry, spray-tanned blonde said to Tucker Schulz at the crowded entrance of Clementine’s. When he paused, astonished, she giggled and leaned over to shimmy her breasts against his arm. “Your key, silly boy.” Her shiny lips puckered as she ran her hand over his midriff. “Mmm…to start with, anyway. Nice abs.”

He realized that he was supposed to insert his key into the locket nestled between her cleavage and his biceps. This would entail prying his hand out of the pocket of the black denim jeans that had suddenly grown tight.

“I’ll catch you later,” he said to the willing blonde, strangely unwilling himself. The meat market at the Marina dance clubs wasn’t his usual scene. Then again, neither was turning women down.

“Remind me again why I’m here,” he shouted to his old friend, Nolan Baylor, as they entered the hot, pulsing atmosphere of the high-decibel party. Clementine’s, a popular nightclub that featured gold-rush decor juxtaposed with a contemporary dance floor, was packed with a shrill crowd of young, single and trendy San Franciscans. Tonight’s event was a charity key party. The expectation of sexual chemistry was so thick in the air Tuck could taste it in the back of his throat.

“See there, at three o’clock?” Nolan nudged Tucker with his elbow. Their eyes followed the swaying mini-skirt of a Chinese enchantress whose slim hips could probably talk dirty in five languages. “That’s why you’re here. The hot babes.”

Beneath his breath, Tuck whistled appreciatively. “Nope, that’s why you are here. But wasn’t it supposed to be one hot babe in particular?”

Nolan nodded. “Doesn’t hurt to look.”

“It’ll hurt plenty if Mikki catches you.” Tuck chuckled as a server skimmed by with a tray of used glasses. “The phrase ‘balls on a platter’ comes to mind.”

Nolan took the familiar ribbing with a wry grin. On a mission to find his ex-wife, Mikki Corelli, he’d donated a small fortune to the charity’s building fund to guarantee the reunion via the supposedly random matching of locks and keys guests had received at the door as they’d turned in their tickets.

“Unlock the Possibilities” was the theme for the evening. Tuck fingered the small key he’d shoved into his jeans’ pocket. He’d rather be opening a cold beer and kicking back to watch the Giants play the Mariners, but when a buddy needed a wingman….

“Did you wear a cup?” he asked, thinking of Mikki and the stilettos she favored.

Nolan placed a defensive hand over his fly. His laugh wasn’t altogether convincing. “You’ll have to be my bodyguard.”

“No way. I’m not getting between you and Mikki on this one.” Nolan planned to tell the hot little mama whom he’d married during law school that their quickie Mexican divorce decree had crumbled like a cheap tortilla. Her explosion might rock harder than the Northridge earthquake.

“You do have my sympathy,” Tuck added as they pushed deeper into the crowd. One zap of Mikki Corelli’s electric-blue eyes could shock a man to the core, even when he wasn’t delivering unwelcome news.