by Virna DePaul
She could have stayed like that forever, but Riley suddenly spun her out, then pulled her back in, this time facing him. They started dancing, her hand on his shoulder, his hand on the middle of her back.
He moved like liquid sex, fluidly, effortlessly, and he made her look good just by being such a strong lead. Still, she struggled to keep up with him. She paid attention to the pressure he put on her back, letting him guide her.
He pressed close to her—whether it was closer than he needed to be, she didn’t know, but she was okay with it. She called on her own long-ago dance training, back in high school, and moved her hips and butt as smoothly and seductively as she could, feeling his hand glide over the skin of her back. It dropped down to her waist and dug in. Erica’s breath caught in her throat, while warmth spread between her legs.
He let go of her back and reached up to take her hand from his shoulder. He stepped back a pace or two and kept dancing, his waist twisting, his hips swaying while the top part of his body stayed perfectly still. She followed suit, the way she felt about him flowing through her movements. It may as well have been just the two of them all over again, the way it had felt in the pub—only while dancing they dared each other to take action.
He spun her once, twice, then grabbed her free wrist and pinned it behind her, bending her backward while leaning his own body over hers. Slowly, they both straightened up, and his mouth brushed over her cleavage, then moved over her throat before finally hovering over her mouth. For a split second they froze like that, then he spun her away again.
He pulled her back to him, this time with the other arm pinned behind her, causing her to suck breath in through her teeth. Hiss. The whole world at that moment consisted of him holding on to her wrist with one hand, while the other held her hip as they rocked from side to side. She shivered at the turn of events. Her face was against the opening of the top buttons on his shirt. She could see perspiration standing out on his skin, and fought hard against the urge to lick it off.
What is he doing to me? She wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but she couldn’t. It was Riley who had intoxicated her. Her free hand roamed up and down his strong, muscular arm, then over his shoulder and down to his chest. She rested it there and felt his heart pounding.
There was no missing the way his crotch rubbed deliberately against her upper thigh, while his ownthigh was between her legs and pressing against her core. Erica had to lean against him for support, he made her so weak-kneed. But still she moved in time with him, her arm firmly pinned.
She surrendered to him and loved it, pressing the cleft between her legs harder against his thigh and maintaining contact as they moved. Her right hand slid down his chest and torso. She ever-so-briefly hooked her fingers into his waistband, then skated her hand around his hip to cup his firm backside. She thought she heard him groan but wasn’t entirely sure over the music.
She knew he was looking down at her, could feel his breath on her shoulder. She pulled away just far enough to look into his eyes, and what she saw nearly ended her.
Lust. Straight-up, unguarded, unveiled. She was breathless.
The hand pinning her arm slid down her back, until Riley let go of her wrist entirely and grabbed her butt. He pulled her in even closer, and they hardly moved anymore, their bodies pressed together. She was utterly undone, lost in the fiery passion blazing in his eyes.
They were cloaked in darkness, at the edge of the dance floor. Erica could hardly breathe. She had never felt so completely sensual in her life. It was beyond erotic, and yet they were both still fully clothed and on their feet.
The song had ended, yet they stayed like that for what seemed like forever. They were at a crossroad. They could break away from each other and act like it never happened…or they could dive into the abyss of their desire.
Erica wanted to dive in and never look back.
From the look on his face and the hardness pressing against her hip, she knew Riley wanted it, too.
Their mouths were so close. Erica could still see the look of lust in Riley’s eyes as they burned into hers. Finally, she gave herself over to what she so desperately wanted.
“Yes,” she whispered.
A light flickered somewhere in his eyes. The hand on her backside tightened its grip infinitesimally, and his mouth hovered over hers…
And the lights came up.
“Seriously?” he muttered, then let out a few Gaelic curses Erica couldn’t understand but could agree with. Of all the times for the night to end. She still felt a little shaky, dizzy, needing to lean against the wall for support.
He looked down at her, all disappointment and frustration. She knew how he felt.
They moved apart. Then he asked, “Are you still dating that guy? That Rob?” He spat out the word like it was a curse.
Erica shook her head, and Riley’s eyes widened. “No. I called him after I talked to you last night.” She blushed furiously.
“Really?” His eyes searched her face, as though he was expecting her to laugh.
“Really. I told him I couldn’t see him anymore. I couldn’t think about anybody else once you got back.” The words were simple, but they were straight from her heart. She’d hated hurting Rob, but there was no way to be with him while Riley was on the same continent, much less in the same pub every day.
He moved closer, like he wanted to kiss her. Then, he stopped himself.
“I think we should go to my place since Sean’s gone for the night.” He took her hand, walked her to their booth, and picked up their jackets. “Do you want to say goodbye to your friends?”
Erica turned. Saw her friends lingering in the corner. She quickly mimed that she was going with Riley and that she’d call them later. They laughed and waved.
Then she and Riley headed out the door.
Chapter Nine
He’d never come so close to losing control of himself as he did when he danced with Erica. They practically did it, right there on the dance floor. He’d never told her or anybody else in his adult life about the dance lessons his mother made him and his brothers take when they were younger. “Girls love a man who can dance,” she used to say. They’d all felt a bit silly at the time, making up excuses to tell their friends so no one would know they did anything as embarrassing as taking lessons.
Now, with Erica in the passenger seat of his car, Riley wished he could thank his mother for her foresight. It had been years since he’d taken a dance lesson, but it was sort of like riding a bike. It came back to him when he didn’t think too much about it and let his body lead him.
He glanced over to find Erica half-asleep, and frowned. She was a little thing—he could have thrown her over his shoulder with no problem—and he’d lost track of the amount she’d had to drink throughout the night. Soon after they’d left the club, it had become all too clear those drinks she’d slammed on the dance floor had put her over the edge. She was too drunk for him to let anything happen.
“You’re a great dancer,” she slurred, smiling from ear to ear.
“So are you.”
“I won’t tell anybody. It’ll be our secret.” She winked.
He couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Thanks.” They drove on in silence, until they arrived at the house he shared with Sean.
“Wow,” she breathed, as he helped her from the car. “I didn’t know you boys lived like this.” He smiled but held his tongue. It was a cute cottage, but a far cry from the mansions to be found only minutes away, studding the countryside, dotting the rolling hills and vineyards.
He held her around the waist as they made our way up the flagstone path to the front door. She needed a little help to keep a straight line as she walked.
“I expected something a little less…cozy.” She narrowed her eyes, taking in the outside of the home.
“I think you’re looking at it through beer goggles,” he said, not unkindly. “It isn’t all that grand.” It was very nice, though, and he appreciated her apprec
iation. They weren’t rich, but with the money from the sale of their house in Ireland, as well as the insurance money left from their mam and dad, they’d had enough money to start the restaurant and keep a good-sized nest egg, too.
Riley and his brothers would have given it all up in a heartbeeat to have their parents back.
He’d talked to Sean earlier today, and he was staying the night with a buddy of his from school in order to work on some group project. Riley had been hoping Erica would come home with him, that they’d do much more than talk on the phone to get each other off, but that couldn’t until she completely sobered up. As if on cue, she swayed on her feet, and hiccupped again to remind Riley how much she’d had to drink. Her breath reeked of alcohol, too. Rum, from the smell of it.
“What the hell did you drink tonight, love?” he whispered, running his hands over her back.
“Oh, I don’t know.” She pulled away, thinking about it. “A shot of tequila, which I hate but Jenna already bought it. A Red-headed Slut.” She giggled. “And…oh, whatever my friends had in their hands before I started dancing. I think one was a Mind Eraser.”
That was it. No playtime for them.
Erica didn’t seem to feel the same way, though, judging by how she leaned in for another kiss. When he placed his hands on her shoulders and eased her away, she whimpered a bit.
“What’s wrong? Aren’t we going to…you know. Have sex,” she whispered loudly.
He turned on the bedside lamp, and she blinked against the light. Her eyes were bleary, slightly unfocused.
He bit his lip against a laugh. “Not tonight, love. You’re a little more drunk than I like a girl to be when I take her to bed.”
“Boo. You’re no fun.” She sat down hard on the edge of the bed, swaying slightly as she did. “I thought you—hiccup—wanted me.”
“Believe me, this is nothing against you. You’re lovely, and I do want you. Just not like this, yeah? Not drunk. I want you to be able to decide if you want to do it or not.”
“I do want to.”
“Right, but if that’s true, you’ll still want to when you’re sober. Okay?”
“Boo.” She glared at him.
“Yeah, boo. Right. I’m mean.” He stood back, taking her in. She was a beautiful mess.
“Why don’t you take a shower?” he asked. “That might help clear your head.”
“Good idea. I think you should come with me.”
He laughed again but even he heard the desperate edge to it. “No, ma’am. You’ll shower alone.”
She stood. “Can you at least help me undress?” She started pulling up her tank top, and Riley pushed her hands down.
“You’re doing just fine on your own, love.” Christ, why are you tempting me so? “I’ll give you my robe and get the water running. You come in when you’re ready.” He didn’t trust himself to help her. Once he got her naked, he’d never be able to control himself. Not when those pouty lips begged to be kissed.
He left the room, going to the shower. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the sink and shook his head. No way, Riley. Keep it together. It was torture, having to be the strong one, though it was a no-brainer. He was half-tempted to jump in and turn the water to straight cold, just to give himself a little help resisting her.
Instead, he turned it to warm and waited for Erica to finish undressing. She entered the bathroom engulfed by his robe. Of course, he immediately wanted to strip it off her, but he held back the shower curtain for her instead.
“Step inside,” he said, turning his head away. She was a good girl, handing him the robe only once she stepped in and the curtain closed. Riley thanked the Lord for small miracles, convinced He must have known Riley couldn’t stand much more and had taken pity on him. He could make out the blurred image of her through the curtain—there was no making out the details of her body, but he saw enough to give him a good idea of what she looked like. Slim and curvy and downright delicious.
“You all right in there?” he asked, his voice tight.
“Yes, thanks,” she replied, still slurring little. He heard water splashing.
He sat down on the closed toilet lid, letting his imagination run wild as he watched. He wasn’t a monk, he reasoned. He couldn’t help himself. What did she look like without the curtain? With the water running in little streams over her bare skin? How would she feel against him?
His pants tightened, and he rubbed a hand over the growing bulge. “How’s it going?” he asked, his voice a little raspy.
“Okay.” She sounded unhappy. He could relate to her frustration. He wanted to sink himself deep into her, instead of only listening to her while she showered.
Only listening…
He got harder. She had such a beautiful voice, especially when she was turned on. And hearing her scream as she enjoyed an orgasm he’d help give her had been mind-blowing. They were both frustrated and wanting more…so why not?
“Are you turned on?” he asked bluntly.
“What?”
“I said, are you horny?”
“You know I am,” she muttered resentfully.
He smiled. “Why don’t you touch yourself for me?” he asked. “Make yourself feel good. Let me hear you, just like you did on the phone. Only I’ll be right here. Getting to hear you and see you, if only through the haze of this damn shower curtain.”
A long pause. “I don’t know…”
“You’ve done it already,” he pointed out. “I’ve already heard you. I want to hear you again.”
“But you already admitted you can see me now…”
“And you’re a goddess, Erica. God, I want you so bad.”
“You can have all of me,” she reminded him.
“Not right now,” he replied. “Soon, though. Come on. Don’t you want to feel good?”
She hesitated, then he watched as her hands moved over her chest. He clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to pull out his throbbing length and stroke. He didn’t want to scare her off—if he could see her, she could see him.
“Isn’t that nice?” he asked softly. “Doesn’t it feel good to touch your body?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she moaned.
Riley thought she might be playing with her nipples, and he ached to replace her hands with his own—better yet, with his mouth.
“That’s right, babe. Play with yourself. Do whatever makes you feel good. Let me hear you enjoy yourself.”
She whimpered breathlessly, and he watched as her hands traveled lower. It was agony, watching but not being able to join in, yet he couldn’t pry his eyes away.
She gasped as she slid one hand between her legs. She placed a foot on the edge of the tub, spreading her thighs. Riley’s eyes were glued to her, his ears tuned to the little sighs and whimpers she let out as her hand moved back and forth.
“Yeah, love. Drive yourself crazy. Make yourself come. Let it all go.” He could have died with yearning as her little gasps got louder. She spread her legs even wider, and both hands disappeared.
“Are you fucking yourself?” he asked.
“Y—yes!” He heard watery slapping noises as her fingers slammed into her depths, splashing the water coming from the shower head. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps that grew louder and louder the closer she got to the edge.
“Come for me. Let me hear you,” he begged breathlessly, throbbing for her.
“Oh—oh! Riley! Oh, God!” She shuddered, gasping, leaning against the shower wall. High-pitched gasps filled the room as she came. Then she sighed in satisfaction.
The only sound in the room was their breathing, and the sound of the water coming from the shower. He listened as she calmed down, her breath getting slower and more even. She sighed, moaning softly as she did. Riley bit his lip, still desperate with need for her.
When they finally got their act together and made love, it would be explosive.
He stood with a rueful grin, wishing the moment didn’t have to end. “I’ll bring in somethi
ng for you to wear to bed,” he said, leaving the room before she could respond. He cupped his dick, readjusting himself. He wanted to come so badly, but decided to wait until the time was right. It felt important to save it for her, strange as it sounded even to him as he thought it. He wanted to make the wait worthwhile.
He found a t-shirt he didn’t think would be too terribly massive for her and left it folded on the sink. “I’ll wait for you,” he said, then stripped down to his shorts and climbed into bed. It wouldn’t be easy, holding back for her sake, but he wouldn’t let himself lose control. She was too special to be taken advantage of.
By the time she came out, hair in a messy bun, her little body swimming in his shirt, he was half-asleep. “Turn out the light,” he asked, holding his arms out to her. She did, casting the room in darkness before sliding into bed with him. Her wet head touched his chest, and within minutes they were both fast asleep.
Chapter Ten
When she woke up, Erica didn’t remember where she was at first. Her heart jumped, and she flinched in surprise. She didn’t recognize the room at all.
Then it all came back to her. Being with him at the club. The way they’d danced. Her skin flushed pink at the memory. Then, she flushed even deeper when she remembered the shower. Oh, God, what have I done? She was sure Riley had to think she was some sort of weirdo for acting that way. Touching herself, getting off for him.
Then again…hadn’t it been all his idea?
“Good morning.”
She gasped, popping up to find him smiling at her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” She wasn’t sure which end was up. Waking up with him was one thing. Feeling like a fool made it even more confusing. What did he expect from her? All of a sudden, even as she knew she was being irrational, she was sure he’d want her to leave.
She couldn’t have been more wrong, and when his arms tightened around her, she melted into him. She hadn’t been in any condition to properly admire his body the night before. Now that she was awake, she took the time to explore him with her eyes. His thick, strong shoulders and biceps. The firm chest. She’d seen him lift kegs of beer as though they were nothing, and finally understood how that was possible.
