by Marci Bolden
Mike put his hand on her shoulder. “Did you hear me, Diane? I said we should go someplace quieter so we can talk.”
She’d already corrected him on her name three times. She wasn’t doing it again. “I don’t think my date would appreciate that.”
“C’mon. What kind of guy leaves a beautiful woman standing alone on New Year’s Eve?”
“He just went to get more drinks.”
Mike leaned close. “I’ve been watching you. And I keep thinking one thing.”
“I bet you do,” she said through her frozen smile just as she spotted Paul pushing his way through a group of people. “There’s my date. Gotta go.”
Paul’s gaze followed Mike as he moved on to another woman standing alone. “Who was that?”
“Um, that was Mike, and he’s been watching me all night and thinking one thing.” She glanced back and shuddered. “Do not leave me alone again.”
Paul grinned and ran his fingers over a curl dangling along the side of her face. He’d been doing that all night. He seemed to be mesmerized by that particular strand of hair. She didn’t mind. The first time it had been gentle and sweet. As the night grew older and they drank more, his hand became heavy and lazy. This time, he practically petted her face, and she chuckled.
“You look beautiful. Did I tell you that?”
His voice was a bit thick but not slurred like Mike’s had been. And when Paul complimented her, it pleased her instead of making her feel icky. Rather than feeling like meat on a platter for Mike to pick over, Paul’s words warmed her inside.
“Yes, you did. But you can keep saying it.” She took another drink from the glass in her hand. The bartender was either making the drinks taste too good or she was officially too drunk to taste the alcohol. She could have finished off the drink in the time it took her to walk to the bar and order another.
Paul had made several trips to get alcohol beyond their initial stop upon arriving at the party. He’d had just as much scotch as she’d had vermouth and gin, only she was clearly feeling hers more. The martinis were starting to systematically dismantle her common sense. She was probably eyeing Paul the same way Mike had eyed her, but she didn’t care. He was handsome as hell in his gray dress shirt with the top two buttons open, exposing his neck and tempting her to kiss his smooth skin.
She sighed, begrudgingly dragged her gaze upward, and grinned when he smirked at her. Yeah. She was definitely looking at him like Mike had been looking at her. She giggled and leaned into him. She was going to have a hell of a hangover with a strong dose of embarrassment in the morning if she didn’t slow down. Part of her said it was time to switch to water, but the other part of her reminded her it was New Year’s Eve and her husband was getting married.
The band started playing an old Eric Clapton song, and she pushed all logic and ideas of remorse from her mind. She pressed her chest to Paul’s and put her lips to his ear under the guise of making sure he could hear her over the chattering of the crowd, but the truth was she just wanted to feel his body against hers. “Dance with me.”
He slid his hand to the small of her back, and they both drank what was left in their glasses and then set them aside. He guided her through the crowd until they found space on the dance floor. Paul wrapped his arm around Dianna’s waist and pulled her close. Her head was already spinning from the alcohol, but she thought she could pass out when she inhaled his scent and the heat of his body started to seep into her.
She had a fleeting thought that they weren’t ready for any kind of relationship, but she discarded it just as quickly as it sneaked up on her. She wasn’t going to listen to reason tonight. Not tonight. They moved as one to the song, and when it ended, Dianna silently prayed they would play another ballad so he wouldn’t have to let her go. Instead, the lead singer announced it was one minute to midnight. The crowd cheered, but Dianna felt like she’d been kicked in the gut.
No. It wasn’t midnight. It couldn’t be midnight. Not already. Burning-hot tears sprang to her eyes, and she tried to stop the tidal wave of pain that was rushing over her, but she was instantly consumed and pulled into an ocean of misery. She gasped as the mask of happiness she’d been wearing all evening shattered and exposed the truth. She was heartbroken. She sagged against Paul, she dropped her head to his shoulder, and she shuddered in his arms as a sob erupted from deep within her.
He leaned back and put his hands to her cheeks. His face sank when he looked at her.
“They’re getting married. Right now.”
He used his thumbs to wipe her tears away, but more fell. He wrapped her tightly against him, and she clung to him. The crowd around them started counting down from ten, and her shoulders began to shake as every number felt like a dagger cutting at her soul. People cheered as a new year began, but Dianna cursed the moment. A moment she would never forget. The moment she stood devastated, surrounded by horns and kissing couples, while the man she had loved for so long married someone else.
“Let’s go,” Paul said in her ear.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin our night.”
“You didn’t.”
She scoffed and scanned the happy crowd. “I wanted tonight to be ours, to be our good memory. I didn’t want it to be about them.”
The band started playing “Auld Lang Syne,” and Paul looked down at her. He cupped her face and put his forehead to hers. She covered his hands with hers for a moment and then stroked her fingers over his hair and cradled the back of his neck. As the song ended and people cheered, Paul dipped his face down and captured Dianna’s mouth with his. The kiss may have started out as a friendly welcoming of a new beginning, but their lips lingered and then moved in unison as Paul and Dianna simultaneously deepened the connection.
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he slipped his arms behind her back. He pulled her to him, held her tightly, and brushed his tongue over her mouth. She parted her lips in response and danced her tongue drunkenly along his. It was a desperate, hungry kiss that she felt all the way down to her groin. When she was breathless, she leaned back and met his gaze. His eyes mirrored what she was feeling—confusion, desperation, and sadness mixed with a heavy dose of lust and the recklessness that too much alcohol tended to bring.
She thought she should apologize for kissing him like that, but then he leaned down and drew her into another tongue-tangling kiss. In that moment, nothing else in the world mattered.
A body bumped into them, knocking them apart and back to the reality of standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor.
Paul looked down at Dianna and slowly grinned. “How’s that for creating our own memory?”
She traced her fingertips along his jawline. Her heart pounded in her chest. Not just from the kisses they’d just shared but from what she was about to say. “It’s a start.”
She stared into his eyes, and an entire conversation passed between them without either saying a word. Sleeping together was a terrible idea. One they shouldn’t even be considering. But they were hurting, they were lonely, and they were both tired of feeling that way. They reached an unspoken agreement. She wrapped her arm around his waist, and he draped his over her shoulder as they left the party and walked through the casino toward the attached hotel.
With a hotel room keycard in one hand and the other pressed low on Dianna’s back, Paul guided her to the elevator. He pressed the button to summon a car and slid his arm farther around her waist. She smiled up at him, and his insides twisted with desire. Moving in front of her, he cupped her face and ran his thumbs lightly over her cheeks. She gripped his hips and pulled him closer.
Pressing his mouth to hers, he kissed her gently instead of delving into the passion they’d shared before. He lightly traced her lips with his tongue until she parted them. Holding her close, he tasted her, inhaled her scent, and absorbed her warmth. After the elevator door opened, he stepped back and guided her inside. He pushed the button for the fourth floor and leaned back against the railing, pulling
her with him. Searching her eyes, he sought out any doubt she might be hiding, but she closed the gap between them and pressed her mouth into his before he could get a read on what she was feeling. Like the kiss at the party, this one was on the verge of exploding. Moving his hands lower, he cupped her bottom and pulled her closer.
She gasped against his mouth. There was no hiding his reaction to her. The car jerked to a stop, and Paul threw his arm out to stop the doors from closing before they could step out. He looked at the sign showing which rooms were in which direction and pointed her to the left. They walked past several doors until he stopped and unlocked one. He pushed the door open and gestured for her to enter first. She found a light switch and flipped it as she stepped by him.
He took his time closing and locking the door, watching as she walked farther into the room. He had to wonder if she had any idea how amazing she looked in her knee-length black dress and high heels. He’d guess that she didn’t, which only added to her appeal. She wasn’t trying to seduce him, yet he wanted her more than he could remember wanting anyone. His body was aching with need for her. Not just physical contact, but Dianna. His body was aching for Dianna.
She looked around the room, pausing when her attention landed on the bed. Paul tossed the keycard on the desk, followed by his wallet and keys. He held her gaze for a moment before closing the distance, standing just inches from her.
He searched her eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Are you?”
He answered by digging a hand into her long hair and pulling her to him. He crashed his mouth against hers and thrust his tongue between her lips, desperate to quench his thirst for her. She clung to him, meeting his passion. She fisted his shirt in her hands as Paul tore his lips from hers. He moved his hand down her hip and over her thigh as he used the hand in her hair to gently but firmly tug her head back and expose her neck.
She panted out his name as he licked at her flesh and lightly sank his teeth into it. He tugged her skirt until his hand was under the fabric, and then he lifted her thigh. Dianna ground her groin against his.
His body was twisting inside, tightening with need. His erection pressed against her as she tightened her leg around him. Having her like this was better than he’d imagined, more than he’d fantasized. He released his hold on her hair and, gripping her other thigh, lifted her. Her legs wrapped around him as he took several steps and gently deposited her onto the bed.
Sliding his hand up her body, he cupped her breast, eliciting a moan from her. She clung to him as he kissed the cleavage along her neckline, gently nipping and licking the top of her breasts. She pressed her heel into his behind, encouraging him to press against her, and he did so willingly.
He leaned back, hovering over her as he’d done once before. He’d had too much to drink that night, too. He’d said things that had hurt her. Trying to push the memory from his mind, he stroked her hair from her face. Her cheeks were flush, her lips puffy from their kisses, and when she lifted her eyelids and looked at him, she did so through what appeared to be a dreamy haze. He ran his hand over her hair again, and she smiled.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “I wish you knew how beautiful you are.”
She laughed softly, but her smile faded and her brow creased when he sighed.
Damn it. He couldn’t do this. Not like this. Not when they were shit-faced and hurting. Not when, less than half an hour before, she’d been crying over her ex-husband. He wanted her. His body was damn near begging for her, but he couldn’t—wouldn’t—make love to her under these circumstances.
She seemed to sense his change of heart because her face sagged and she looked away.
“We can’t do this,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I want you. I do. So much. But, Dianna…”
“Don’t. Please.” She closed her eyes and turned her face away as she released her hold on his body.
He put his hand to her face and waited for her to open her eyes. When she did, a tear fell, and he brushed it away. “You are much too important to me to do something you are going to regret later.”
“I won’t—”
“You will. You’re hurting, and you’re thinking this will help. And it probably would. At least for tonight, but tomorrow you’d regret it, and then you’d resent me. We’ve had too much to drink. Too much hurt. Too much everything to be thinking clearly. We’re not thinking clearly. We can’t do this.”
She shifted beneath him, and he rolled away from her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took a deep breath in a futile attempt to regain control of his body. “I’m not going to lose you because we did something rash. I care about you too much.”
“I’m sorry,” she breathed.
“Don’t be.” He looked over as she sat beside him and adjusted her dress. “I wanted this, too, but it’s not a good idea.”
Her face was even more red now, and a tear had trailed down her nose, threatening to drip off the tip, but she swiped it away and sniffed.
Damn it, he felt like an ass.
“I want to make love to you,” he said, his voice softly pleading. “I do, but I want it to be for the right reasons, and that can’t possibly be the case tonight.”
“No, you’re right. You’re completely right. If we…” She stopped and cleared her throat. “It’s just so unfair.”
“What?”
She lifted her face, finally meeting his gaze. “He’s happily remarried, and I’m…getting rejected…again.”
“I’m not rejecting you.”
“Oh.” She pushed herself up. “Excuse me for misunderstanding.”
He frowned as she walked to the window and looked out. “You still love him.”
“You still love her.”
“So we have no business doing this. Because if we do, one of us, maybe both of us, will get hurt. I don’t want to hurt anymore, Dianna.”
“I know. I shouldn’t have thrown myself at you like that.”
He smiled softly. “I’m fairly certain you weren’t alone in that. I meant what I said. You mean so much to me. I’m not going to lose you now.”
“You mean a lot to me, too. And I don’t want to lose our friendship over one night.” She finally turned and looked at him. “Can we just chalk this up to drunken stupidity?”
“That’s exactly what we’re chalking it up to.” He slowly stood, hesitating when he wobbled a bit on his feet. “I can’t drive, but if you don’t want to stay, we can call for a ride.”
She nodded. “That would be best, I think.”
He walked to the phone and called the front desk. He requested a car service pick them up, but when he was told how long the expected wait time was, he changed his mind. Turning as he replaced the phone in its cradle, he shrugged. “We can either stay here or wait about two hours for the next available car. Apparently we aren’t the only ones ready to go home. I can call Annie. I’m sure she’s sober.”
She gnawed at her lip for a moment. “No. No, don’t worry about it. We’ve shared a bed before. I think we can manage it again. Just…” She grinned sheepishly. “You know, stop begging me to have sex with you.”
They laughed quietly, but it was an awkward, uncomfortable sound from both of them.
Paul released a few buttons before he tugged his dark gray dress shirt off and held it out. “Put this on. You can’t sleep in that dress.”
He left her to change and closed the bathroom door behind him. He looked at his reflection. His mouth was red from kissing her. He licked his lips. Part of him wanted to throw the door open and tell her he’d changed his mind. To hell with the consequences. He wanted to be buried deep between her legs as she clung to him. He wanted her holding him as he thrust inside her. He wanted her writhing beneath him as she called his name. He’d been so close to that—so close to living out something he hadn’t even realized he’d been wanting so badly.
“You idiot,” he whispered to his reflection.
He splashed cold water on his face, brushed his teeth
with the hotel-provided toiletries, and used the bathroom before washing his hands and easing the door open a crack. “May I come out?”
“Yeah,” she answered.
He left the bathroom, and regret hit him again. She was putting her phone on the nightstand, wearing his dress shirt and looking like a goddamned goddess. Her pale legs were naked, reminding him of what he’d given up. He ran his hand over his hair, cursing himself for having a conscience.
“There are toothbrushes on the counter,” he said when he finally managed to look into her eyes.
“Perfect.” Dianna shuffled her way into the bathroom.
The alcohol in Paul’s system was definitely starting to catch up to him. His head was heavy and his mouth dry. He cracked open a complimentary bottle of water and chugged half of it before setting it on the nightstand next to her phone. He glanced back, made sure the bathroom door was closed, and then slid out of his slacks. He draped them over a chair with Dianna’s dress and climbed under the covers.
She came out of the bathroom, and he tried to ignore the tension radiating between them.
“How loud are you going to snore tonight?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I don’t snore.”
Dianna laughed with disbelief. “Sure.” She turned off the light and tugged at the covers.
“Hey,” he whispered as she settled into bed.
“Hmm.”
“I need to tell you something. About your piano.”
She turned her face over her shoulder, her eyes wide as she looked up at him. “Oh, God. Does your friend want his money back?”
Paul exhaled. “There was no friend.”
“What?”
“I bought the piano.”
Dianna turned all the way onto her back. In the dim light that was streaming in through the opening between the heavy curtains, he could see something that looked like guilt playing on her face. “You did what?”
