by BETH KERY
“How do you know?” His smile twitched at the appearance of her frown.
“Because I’ve seen you naked and done outrageous things to you. You’ve been pretty outrageous in return,” he reminded her before he brushed his mouth against her soft, slightly pursed mouth. He tensed in excitement when she opened her lips.
“Trey? What did you come here for?”
He blinked, his trance broken slightly. Was she asking because she thought he’d come over here just to fall on her like a rutting animal? If she did, it was because she had precedent for thinking it.
“I came to ask if we could take that walk we missed out on last night,” he replied. He was being honest. That had been his only intention upon coming there. It had been until he’d seen her big eyes, and pigtails, and a T-shirt that hugged her beautiful bare breasts like a second skin, anyway. “I was hoping to take you to dinner.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he replied earnestly, thinking it was wise to release her hand and take a step back before he revealed his other, less admirable, motivations.
“But I need to shower,” she said, waving down at herself self-consciously.
“That’s okay, I’ll wait,” he said, picking up one of the glasses. He took a swallow of water to cool off. He needed it. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
She shook her head. This time, he was glad to read nothing but excitement brimming in her eyes.
“If you want anything to eat or drink, just—”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll just be a minute,” she promised, walking out of the kitchen.
“Take your time.”
—
“All set,” he heard her say ten or fifteen minutes later. He’d just wandered into her living room a minute ago. He turned from examining the contents of a bookshelf.
“You only read erotica, huh?” he asked her dryly, pointing at her large, diverse collection of books.
She grinned. “I told you I might have been exaggerating about that.”
His smile slowly faded as he took her in.
“What?” she asked, frowning.
She wore jeans, a dark green sweater, a scarf, a black overcoat and a pair of supple walking boots. Her long hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. She’d scrubbed her face of perspiration, but as far as he could tell, she wore little or no makeup. Nor did she wear any jewelry. She looked so fresh.
So lovely.
“I never know what to expect from you,” he said, walking to her. He stepped close. She looked up at him with those enormous, soulful eyes that had started to haunt both his sleep and waking moments. He smoothed back a stray curl at her temple. His fingers lingered, brushing the delicate, soft shell of her ear. He liked feeling her slight shiver at his touch.
“Is it . . . okay? How I’m dressed?” He blinked at the hesitance in her tone and focused on her face. He kissed her to erase the anxiety he read there, losing himself for a moment in her soft, responsive lips.
“Of course it’s okay,” he assured. “You look adorable.”
“But you said dinner. Maybe the place you want to go to is dressy?” She glanced down at him. “You look really nice.”
“I’m wearing jeans and boots and a coat, just like you,” he murmured humorously, nipping at her lower lip.
“You manage to make it look a lot more sophisticated than I do.” She shifted on her feet. “I think I’ll change.”
He grabbed her shoulders, making her an immobile target. He seized her mouth in a hard, swift kiss. By the time he lifted his head, she wore that dazed, flushed look that always gratified him to the core.
“Plans should change, not you. You’re perfect,” he said with a pointed glance. He pulled her toward the front door.
Once they were outside walking south on the inner drive, he didn’t even bother to button the coat he wore. “It must be in the forties. It’s even warmer than it was yesterday,” he said to Eleanor.
“I didn’t get a chance to ask you: how is your brother?”
“He’s okay. He left for New York this morning. It wasn’t anything life-threatening that was bugging him. Life-altering, maybe,” he added under his breath.
He saw her questioning glance and explained about his playboy big brother falling hard for a woman, and being pretty torn up by it.
“He’s forty-three years old and never been in love before?” Eleanor asked after he’d finished.
“I know. Hard to believe, but true.”
“That’s a really long time to go without ever being in love,” she mused. He studied her profile as they crossed Division Street. What was she thinking? He opened his mouth, intending to ask her how old she was, and if she’d ever “fallen” yet. But she cut him off.
“Oh look. They have the lights up,” she said, referring to the Christmas lights on all the trees lining the shopping district on Michigan Avenue.
“They’ve had them up for at least a week,” he said, both relieved and irritated by her changing the subject. Why did he feel compelled to ask her such an intimate question? It was the kind of topic he usually avoided with women. Her wistful smile snagged his full attention.
“I love Christmas in the city. I usually walk over for the lighting parade,” she said, referring to the annual event that inaugurated the beginning of the holiday season.
“How come you didn’t this year?”
A shadow fell over her face. “Too busy, I guess. And my work is in the opposite direction, so I just hadn’t noticed they’d decorated already. I missed it.”
“I would have thought a fashionista like you treaded a beaten a path to Michigan Avenue.”
“Fashionista? Oh, well I guess I do like clothes.”
“For their performance value?” he asked quietly, casting a sideways glance her way.
She gave a small grin. “I know that’s what you like my clothes for. Are your offices in the Loop?” she asked him.
“Yeah, on South Wacker Drive,” he replied, highly aware she’d changed the subject yet again. He reached for her hand. It seemed like a natural thing to do on his part, but she gave him a startled glance at the familiar gesture.
“What? I can’t hold your hand? After everything we’ve been through?” he teased her.
“No. I mean . . . of course you can,” she muttered, flustered. It was dark out, but the streetlights gave off enough luminescence for him to see that she blushed. She’d given him mind-blowing displays of exhibitionism. They’d had scorching sex, not once, but several times, and by all available evidence, she’d loved every bit of it.
But she’d started and blushed when he held her hand.
They paused with half a dozen other pedestrians at the light on Oak Street. He leaned down and spoke quietly near her ear. “I’m going to figure you out, Eleanor.”
Her big eyes looked anxious when she looked up at him. Alarmed?
“What do you mean? What’s to figure out?”
He frowned down at her. “Some kind of mystery,” he muttered darkly before the light changed, and he pulled her out into the street.
—
Eleanor’s heart had started charging when Trey had said matter-of-factly near her ear that he planned to figure out the mystery of her. Why had she broken the role? She should have dressed more seductively and put on some makeup before they went out. She’d had the chance.
The truth was, she’d grown hopeful there in the condo. He’d seemed attracted to her, even when she’d been sweaty and disheveled. She’d given in to a romantic notion that maybe, just maybe, he’d like her without all the theatrics.
And that’s a pretty dangerous hope to be having, isn’t it?
That’s not what this thing with Trey was supposed to be about, what is? No, it was supposed to be about taking that greedy bite out of life she’d promised her
self she’d take following Caddy’s death. Still, it was only a matter of time before he figured out she was nowhere near as daring and bold as she’d pretended to be to get his attention. Sometimes, she thought he already knew. Part of her expected him to call her out at any second and walk away for good.
She glanced over at him furtively as they walked, and he caught her looking. His grin melted her insides. It was the kind of smile that just made you want to let go and relish the moment. Jimmy had been right. She needed to stop overthinking this.
They made their way down a crowded Michigan Avenue, Eleanor absorbing the pretty holiday scene. When she’d realized earlier that the lights and Christmas decorations were up already, a feeling of sadness had swept through her for a moment. She, Caddy and Caddy’s best friend, Sandra Banks, who lived nearby on Oak Street, had a tradition of attending the Christmas lighting parade every year. Afterward, they’d drop in on a few stores and then cap off their festive evening with a drink at the Four Seasons bar. It’d been weird, seeing the street all cheerily lit up. It’d been a harsh reminder that life went on, with or without Caddy.
With or without her—Eleanor.
The bustling, festive mood on the street quickly dissolved her melancholy. That, and the man at her side. Tourists and locals flocked the sidewalks and poured in and out of the stores, taking advantage of early Christmas sales and the extended holiday weekend. It seemed strange for her, to be out in public, walking hand in hand with such a handsome, exciting man.
Strange and wonderful.
She’d been startled when he’d grabbed her hand earlier. Holding hands in public seemed so sweet. Romantic. Innocent. She’d have thought he wasn’t interested in such a vanilla display, but she’d been thrilled he was. She recalled what he’d said about being a basic Midwestern boy at heart. Could it be true?
Then she remembered that the very hand that grasped hers so innocently that very moment had previously spanked her ass until it burned hot last night and worked explosive magic between her legs. Arousal flashed through her at the mere memory.
No, Trey was anything but a simple farm boy.
A horde of rowdy teenage girls swarmed against them, causing them to break hands and go around them. Trey was so tall, it was easy to see his head above the crowd. She returned his grin when they joined up again, captivated by his gleaming blue eyes. Her hand went out, and his was there, ready to grasp it. She ducked her chin, embarrassed at the flood of pleasure that went through her from the simple act of holding his hand in public. If she didn’t watch it, he was going to recognize that she was as giggly and goofy as those teenage girls they’d just passed, and then where would she be?
As they neared the Chicago River, a harsh wind whisked down Michigan Avenue. She shivered, and Trey noticed. He herded her inside to the atrium of a vertical mall.
“It’s getting colder. Button up your coat. Do you like hot chocolate?”
She nodded eagerly. In truth, it was a favorite of both hers and Caddy’s since they were kids.
“Whipped cream?”
“Oh yeah.”
His grin told her he’d anticipated her answer. She usually compensated for her guilty pleasure by getting the sugar-free, low-fat hot cocoa, but it seemed like a very good night to splurge.
“Wait here, I’ll be back in two seconds,” he said before he sprung up a flight of stairs, his black coat billowing out behind his long body. When he returned, he held two hot chocolates in his hands. She couldn’t repress her grin. They stood face-to-face, sipping the hot, creamy ambrosia for a few moments while shoppers streamed around them, each of them as lost in her or his own world as Eleanor was in Trey’s eyes.
“I know of a nice, casual little Italian place close to where I work. It won’t be so crowded down in the Loop,” Trey said loudly over a bell-ringing Santa Claus once they’d returned to the sidewalk. “But you said you were hungry earlier, and it’s still quite a way if we walk. Do you want to grab a cab?”
“I’ll be fine. Let’s walk there,” she insisted. Was he kidding? How could I not be fine, walking down the street with you, hand in hand? She could walk all the way to central Illinois in the mood she was in, if he was by her side.
They approached the Michigan Avenue Bridge and she glanced down over the balustrade to the river. She saw a sign posted on the stairs leading down to the quay. “Oh look. This is the last weekend for the Water Taxi before it closes for the winter. I always wanted to take it, but never have.”
“It has a drop-off close to the restaurant we’re going to. I should warn you, though, it’ll probably take longer than walking. It’s slower than dirt, and they make every stop, even though no one is interested in being on the river in late November.”
“But us?” she asked hopefully. She loved the sound of his low, rough laughter.
“But us,” he agreed, pulling on her hand and leading her down the stairs.
They were indeed the only passengers on the large water taxi. Trey had been right. It was chillier on the water than up on the street, and people didn’t even consider a boat for transportation this time of year.
They found refuge from the wind in the indoor portion on the upper deck as the water taxi pulled away from the quay. “Over here,” Eleanor called out to him. “There’s a heater on the floorboard. It’s nice and warm.”
They sat side by side on a polished wooden bench, Eleanor clutching her still-hot cup of chocolate to warm her hands. Windows surrounded them on all sides, making her feel like they glided in their own private atrium with a panoramic view of the glittering city all around them. She twisted her head and looked out the window over Trey’s shoulder.
“Look at all the Christmas lights decorating the riverside. You never see them from the sidewalk or street,” she said in a hushed tone as she untied her scarf.
“Yeah. It’s a whole new world down here.”
She looked into his face, thinking he’d put it exactly right. Funny, how being with him made the whole world seem like it was unfolding second by second, just for them.
Really, Eleanor? Stop being such a romantic idiot.
She really needed to watch it. It was dangerous, feeling so fanciful. So happy. But she couldn’t help herself. The moment was magical.
Maybe he was.
“Do you like Christmas?” he asked her.
She nodded. She didn’t want to ruin the moment by telling him that for the first time in her life, she was dreading Christmas this year. “Do you?”
“It’s always been a pretty big deal at the Riordan farm,” he said. “Mom goes nuts with the indoor decorations, and Dad goes crazy with the outdoor lights. I think their electric bill for December must be about equivalent to all of the other eleven months of the year.”
They shared a smile.
“Thanks for coming on the water taxi with me. I don’t know why I never took it before,” she confessed, staring wistfully out the window. “I’ve lived in the city for ten years now, and never taken it.”
“That’s how it is sometimes, living in the city. You walk by so many things, and you hear of so many amazing events, but you don’t get to most of them. Life gets in the way, and you never seem to take advantage like you should.”
“Exactly.” She sounded a little breathless, and realized it was because of the way he was watching her mouth narrowly. “But you sound like you’ve taken the water taxi before.”
“I have.” He set down his hot chocolate cup on the seat next to him. He reached for her cup and took it from her. “But I’ve never taken it with you.”
Her breath caught at that. He calmly turned toward her and grasped her upper arms. “Come here,” he urged.
She gasped in surprise, but soon divined what he wanted. She came down over his lap, her knees on the bench, facing him. Before she could question what he intended, he grabbed the ends of her scarf and pulled her to hi
m. His mouth seized hers.
There was something about Trey’s kiss. It was all or nothing. He ravished her with his mouth. There was no way for her to respond but wholesale.
She moaned shakily, melting against him. His lips were cold and firm, but his mouth was hot and tasted of sweet chocolate. His hands slid along the sides of her legs and up under her coat. He cupped her hips and then her ass. She felt her body quicken and heat. He urged her and she slid closer on his hard thighs, her arms encircling his neck, their kiss deepening. She flexed her hips, pressing her sex against his, eager for the sensation of him. He groaned roughly and squeezed her ass, bringing her closer yet.
His hands shifted between them and she realized he was unbuttoning her coat. She broke their kiss, her forehead pressed against his.
“What are you doing?” she whispered near his mouth.
“Being original.”
“What?” she asked when his nudging hands pushed her back slightly. He grabbed for the hem of her sweater and lifted it over her breasts.
“I’ve never fooled around on a water taxi. You’ve never been on the water taxi.” He brushed his fingertips over the top swells of her breasts. His expression turned serious. City lights reflected in his eyes as he watched himself touch her. His fingers slipped beneath the edge of her bra and pushed it down beneath her nipples. “By all logic, then, this is an original moment for both of us,” he said before he leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth.
Eleanor gasped at the shock of pleasure. She stared blankly out the window behind him as the nighttime landscape of the city rolled slowly by her vision. He tugged on her gently with a firm suction. She felt that pulling sensation all the way to her sex via some invisible cord. She wriggled in his lap, needy for pressure. Her fingers dug into his thick hair. She held him to her as he lashed at her nipple with a warm, deft tongue.
“Trey,” she called plaintively, pressing her sex against the lengthening column of his cock.
He loosened his taut suction on the tip of her breast.
“I like the way you say my name,” he said hoarsely, his breath rushing across her damp nipple.
