A/N: One and only warning: This story is rated mature. Therefore, there will be explicit language and scenes.

She put it down to not having had sex in almost five years.

The first time he had walked into her pottery studio and stood there, leather clad, smelling of motorbike and cigarettes and something je-ne-sais-quoi, and had a look at her work, she had tripped and nearly broken a commissioned vase she had been working on for the past two days.

That would have been a costly embarrassment.

She pushed her glasses back on her nose, blushing like crazy.

His reaction?

An incredibly sexy smirk.

Then she thought it was just a stupid school girl crush. When he smiled at her over a cup of coffee that he had brewed in her kitchen with the coffee he had brought along, and explained how he was looking for some unique mugs to go with his unique brand in his new coffee shop. And how he had taken a ride on his bike and had spotted the sign to her pottery.

She wiped her hands on her dirty jeans. She was fairly sure she had some dried clay smudges on her face and potentially in her hair as well, as she had not been expecting a devastatingly handsome man with eyes that seemed to look right to the bottom of her soul.

Who would ever?

He wanted to know everything about the process, seemed genuinely interested and listened. He actually listened when she had her nerdy moment and geeked out on him about her profession. She blushed and apologised and all he did was laugh. A warm, rumbly laugh that made her panties wet.

She seriously needed to get laid. He turned her into a horny, giggly teenager within a matter of half an hour. And she was anything but.

Well, horny, maybe. But not giggly and certainly no teenager anymore.

He stood in her personal space as she showed him some sample mugs and glazes. His scent invaded her senses, making it hard for her to breathe, let alone concentrate. He wanted to see the customised samples for his coffee shop in LA.

When she gave him her business card with her contact details on, his fingers had brushed hers. Sparks had tingled her skin where he had touched her.

She blushed again and busied herself with writing down his request and his phone number. But she knew he had seen, when his chuckle sounded through the studio. He gave her a dazzling smile, his eyes full of mischief, as he put his helmet back on and sat on his bike, looking like a sex dream, before revving the engine and speeding off.