by Alice Ward
Maybe.
Damn. The will she or won’t she was playing games in my head.
And I liked it.
Liked the mystery of wondering just how wicked she would get.
The door to the building across the street opened, and… holy fuckin’ fuck. She appeared.
The yoga pants were fine, but the jumpsuit thing she was wearing did crazy good things to her body. She had no breasts to speak of, but damn, the hint of their small curves did something crazy with my dick. Her shoulders and arms were toned and kissed by the sun, her skin practically gleaming, even in the late evening sun.
I strode across the street to meet her at the sidewalk, glad there wasn’t any traffic or I’d be dead. Because I only had eyes for her.
“Hi.”
She licked her lips, smiling up at me. “Hi.”
Even though I couldn’t see them under her long pants, I knew she was wearing heels because the top of her head came level with my nose. Unable to resist, I leaned down and pressed my lips to her cheek, inhaling some sweet floral scent that fit her exactly.
“You look beautiful.”
She licked her lips again. “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.”
If she recognized me, it didn’t show.
It was one of the reasons I’d turned down Grant’s driver’s offer to drive me around tonight. I didn’t want to “put on airs” as Mom would call it. I wanted Journey to like me for me before the whole Levington legacy bullshit muddled the water.
Of course, my Porsche didn’t exactly scream poor, but it was the least expensive car I owned. Well, I could have chosen the Land Rover, but the Porsche was fun and there would be enough of them on the streets, unlike my personal favorite, the Bugatti Veyron, which would really stand out.
Holding out my hand, my damn dick jumped when she placed her palm against mine.
That, I remembered.
The instant chemistry and attraction when we looked at each other. It seemed to be heightened now, for some reason.
It was for me at least, and as the Southern folk would say, I could have sopped her up with a biscuit.
Yeah… I could certainly eat this woman up. And maybe before this night was over, I might get that chance.
“Thank you,” she said politely when I opened the car door for her and handed her in, but she was frowning when I got behind the wheel.
“What’s wrong?”
The frown deepened even as she shook her head, her gaze sliding past and behind me. I turned to see a man standing at the top of the stairs of her building. He was just standing there, staring in our direction.
“Is that a problem?” I asked her, feeling immediately protective.
She smiled, but it was stiff and forced. “No. Not at all.” Her eyes flicked to the man again. “Shall we go?”
Turning on the engine, I gave the machine a nice boost of gas and whipped up the street, smiling when Journey laughed as the g-force sank her back into the leather.
“Wow. This is fast.”
She seemed like herself again, not that I even knew what her usual self was. But I wanted to know. Wanted to know everything about her.
“You want to drive?”
Her eyes widened, and she barked out a laugh. “I don’t even have a driver’s license, so… we’ll just go with no on that one.”
I shot her an incredulous look even though I knew it wasn’t beyond comprehension for true New Yorkers to have never gotten behind the wheel of a car. “Then we’ll absolutely have to let you drive.”
She held out her hands. “No. Nope. Don’t even suggest it again.”
I laughed and took her hand in mine, putting it on the shifter between us as we pulled up to a stop sign. “Just relax.” When she tried to pull away, I gripped her tighter. “I mean it.”
Her lips quirked, and she stopped fighting me.
When the traffic cleared, I hit the gas, and she squealed as she helped me shift through the gears. I wished we were on an open road, so I could really show her what this baby could do.
“See… you can drive.”
She laughed, and it was a joyous, musical sound. “Right, if I was sitting on your lap letting you…” She pressed her lips together.
I waggled my eyebrows. “Letting me what?”
She swatted my arm. “You’re wicked.”
I took her hand, covered it with mine on the gearshift again. “Wicked seems to be our theme.”
She was still smiling, and she didn’t pull her hand away. It was amazing how quickly we clicked. I’d never been this comfortable so quickly with a woman before. She seemed pretty comfortable with me too.
As we got closer to the theater, the traffic picked up, and I had to pay attention in order to avoid the crazy pedestrians who tried to zigzag through the honking cars.
“What do you do for a living?” she asked when every automobile in New York came to a halt in front of us.
I tapped my thumb on the steering wheel. “I help manage concert tours.” It wasn’t a lie.
She turned in her seat. “Really? That sounds fun. Anyone I know?”
I tapped my thumb again. “Do you like country music?” I laughed when she wrinkled her nose. “Then let’s say that I manage someone who’s as country as cornbread.” I made my vowels extra long.
“You sound country as cornbread yourself sometimes. You’re not from around here, aren’t ya.”
It was my turn to wrinkle my nose. “It’s ‘you ain’t from around here, ain’t ya.’ Get your Southerisms straight, Yankee.”
She waggled her eyebrows. “How you doin’?”
I laughed. “Are you a Friends addict like everyone else?”
“Of course. My sister is even worse than me.”
I nearly smacked myself in the forehead. I’d meant to ask her about her sister earlier. “Did she get off to camp okay?”
Journey sighed. “Yes. And she was so excited.”
I shot her a look. “And how did big sister take it?”
She sighed again, but this time so heavily that her lips fluttered. “I was a blubbering baby.”
“You two are tight.” It wasn’t a question. It was obvious.
“Yes.”
“What about your parents?”
I knew right away that it was a bad question to ask because Journey stiffened. “It’s just us.”
I let it drop. “Okay. Do you teach yoga full time, and if not, what else do you do?”
I listened to her tell me about her jobs and her career goals as we finally pulled up to the valet I’d hired to meet us in the back. When I stopped, Journey looked around, frowning. “Where are we?”
I shrugged casually. “The back of the theater. I thought we’d avoid the throng in the front and sneak in the back.”
She gasped. “Sneak?”
She looked so appalled that we might break some law that I couldn’t help but tease her. “I thought you were wicked.”
She sat up straighter, sputtering as she tried to get a sense if I was serious or not. I let her off the hook.
“I’m kidding. I know some people, and we have backdoor tickets.” I pulled them out of my pocket and handed them to her.
She practically sagged back into her seat. “I thought I was going to have to bail myself out of jail.”
“Not much of a risk-taker, I take it.”
She didn’t seem offended. “Not much. Of course, I’ve never really had the opportunity to be seriously wild.”
I’d like to give her some of those opportunities.
And if the damn valet hadn’t been standing at her fucking window, I might have started those opportunities right there.
Shit.
Turning off the engine, I pressed the button to unlock the doors, and the valet opened hers while I stepped out and tossed him the keys. I slipped him a hundred and he knew he’d get another in a couple hours. The kid was happy to babysit my car for a while.
“I’ve got an app that tells me where she is,�
� I warned, and he looked disappointed.
“Yes, sir.”
Journey was smiling again as I held out my hand and led her to the backdoor. It opened right away, and we were ushered inside and escorted to our seats.
I was amazed at how natural it was to hold her hand. How easily we laughed during the funny parts of the play. How I knew the moments when she needed the comfort of my arm going around her.
I’d thought I would hate the musical. Well, maybe not hate, but I thought I’d be bored. Thought I’d have to muddle through the production… but no.
The cast was very talented. The script witty and fast-paced.
But it was watching the land before Oz come to life through the expressions and little gasps and murmurs of the woman beside me that really made me appreciate what was happening on stage.
And by the time “For Good” was almost finished, I nearly had a fucking tear in my eye.
Journey did for sure as she mouthed the words to the song.
I squeezed her closer to me, my hand moving up and down the soft skin of her arm.
Of course, I told myself, all this romantic shit was just the prelude to getting her sweet little ass in bed with me. But I knew I was fooling myself.
I liked her.
I liked how I felt around her.
I wanted to feel like this around her again.
But changed for the better? Changed for good?
One damn date wasn’t going to do that.
Metaphorically forcing my testicles to descend from whatever romantic place they’d lost themselves in for the past few hours, I stood with the rest of the crowd and shook my leg, making sure I hadn’t lost my dick during this experience too.
Journey turned toward me, wrapping her arms around my waist, giving me a quick hug.
As she pressed against me, my cock gave a satisfying pulse. I hadn’t been gelded by a female quite yet.
“I loved it.”
“Yeah, it was pretty good if I have to say so myself.”
I’d thought about getting backstage passes but had decided against it when I realized how close we’d be cutting it to get to dinner.
I took her hand. “Ready to go?”
She nodded. “Sure. Go where?”
To my bed.
My cock gave another satisfying pulse.
“Dinner if you’re hungry. You like steak?”
She blanched. Damn, don’t tell me she was one of those vegetarians. I’d have to rethink everything if she couldn’t nosh into a burger or two. I did a mental scan of the menu I’d looked over earlier.
“They’ve got stuff like mushroom ravioli and spaghetti too if you’d like that better.”
Why was she blushing? “No, I love steak, but the ravioli sounds amazing.”
I guided her from the aisle and through the back and out of the building. “They have a pretty wide-ranging menu. I’m sure you’ll find something you like.”
She hummed what I thought was “Defying Gravity” as we inched our way over to Philip Marie’s. She looked around curiously, acting as if she was a tourist at times.
“Know where we are?”
She looked around again. “It’s funny. I’ve lived in New York all my life, but I know so little of it. I know my neighborhood in and out, of course. I bike to Central Park three days a week for class. But other than my little path, I haven’t seen much else. The big things, of course. Empire State Building, places like that. But those were mostly during school trips.”
“Where would you go if you could?”
She sighed and leaned back into her seat, and I was glad to see the restaurant up ahead. I wanted to give her my full attention, not deal with driving and paying attention to the street. I might need to take Wayne up on his offer sometime. Journey rubbed the leather seat of the Porsche. Or maybe not.
“I’d like to go to the beach.”
I glanced over at her. “You’ve never been to the beach? Any beach?”
She shifted in her seat. “No, but I’ve always wanted to.”
Tropical islands began to shift through my head. “Do you have a passport?”
She laughed. “No.”
“But you’ve got a state ID?”
“Yes.”
I got lucky and snagged a parking spot. Damn. I felt like a rock star when that happened.
Stepping out of the car, I hurried around to open the door before she had it fully open. I gave her a serious look. “Now, listen to me. If my mama ever found out that I didn’t open a door for a lady, she’d tan my hide but good.”
She grinned. “Mee-maw used to love to watch reruns of this show called Hee Haw and you sound just like them.”
“How-dee!”
She laughed and practically fell into my arms as I yanked her from the low car. My hands went around her arms, then to the smooth skin of her back. Then my lips were on hers.
Wow.
I was fucking lost. Her flavor. Her warmth. The softness of her mouth. The way she moaned when I traced the seam of her lips and she let me inside.
This.
This was the best first kiss in the history of kisses. Her hands went into my hair, and I thought it might be pretty good for her too.
“Woohoo… get a room!”
Catcalls and whistles followed, and I pulled away, but just a bit. Pressing my forehead to hers, I murmured, “A room. I wish.”
She blushed and took a step back, and I knew I’d blown it. Journey wasn’t like the women I normally went out with. She hadn’t even driven a damn car. She’d barely left the one-mile radius of her apartment.
But she wanted to.
The way she was breathing hard told me she wanted me too.
“Hungry?” I asked.
A little laugh was attached to her exhalation. “Yes.”
With great reluctance, I pulled away and took her hand, leading her into the restaurant, pulling my shirt out to hide my boner.
“Where are we going?” Journey asked as the hostess led us down some steps.
I made a bwahaha sound, then added, “To the chamber of death.”
She rolled her eyes and the hostess stopped. “Welcome to the Wine Room. Enjoy.”
With a flourish, she waved us into a real fucking wine room located in the cellar of the place. A waiter was there with two champagne glasses waiting for us.
“Wow. This is incredible.”
The waiter smiled and handed the flutes over to us. “It is indeed.” I noticed Journey sniff the glass, then take a tentative taste. She must have liked it because she took another as the waiter told us about the history of this room.
It was actually pretty interesting because it seemed this underground chamber had a secret past involving subterranean tunnels used as a speakeasy back in the twenties.
I was quickly becoming addicted to Journey’s eyes. Not just the color, but the absolute joy in them as she listened to the waiter and then eyed the selections on the expansive menus.
“More champagne, miss?”
Journey bit her lip and seemed to come to some mental agreement with herself. “Just one more.”
After it was poured, I said, “If you’d prefer something else, it’s no problem.”
She blushed. “It’s not that. It’s actually delicious. I just don’t, um, drink very much. Well, hardly ever. And the first glass has already made me a little tipsy.”
I thrust my hand over my head and mimicked snapping my fingers. “More champagne for the lady.”
She giggled, and it was the first time I’d heard her make that particular sound. I decided I liked it and made a commitment to hear it many more times.
And I did.
Journey didn’t just have one more glass, but two, taking sips as she put away the ravioli she ended up ordering.
I didn’t drink past the first glass since I was driving. Besides, there was a natural high in seeing her loosen up and be happy.
When dinner was over, instead of holding her hand, I wrapped an arm around her sho
ulders. As we passed through the tables, a diner gasped. “Look… isn’t that Nash Lev…?”
But before the woman finished the sentence, I had Journey out of there. She didn’t appear to even notice.
She leaned heavily against me as I walked her to the car, got her inside and buckled up.
She was right. She was a total lightweight but didn’t appear actually drunk. More just very tipsy, which was a fun place to be from my expansive experience.
We laughed all the way back to her place, and when I parked, feeling like a rock star for the second time that night, I cut the engine.
She’d stopped laughing, and I looked over at her building to see a shadow in a first-floor window. “Let me walk you to your door.”
Her smile was filled with gratitude. “Are you sure? It’s on the third floor and the elevator’s broken.”
“You need to kick your building owner’s ass.”
She laughed, but the sound was tight. Was the man in the window the owner of her building?
I opened her door and escorted her across the street and up her stairs without any problems. At her door, she fumbled with her keys, and I took them from her hand.
The interior of the apartment was a surprise. Terribly small, but the space was well utilized and the colors comforting. “Nice place,” I said from the door, the keys still in my hands.
Another bright smile, and she turned on a lamp that was sitting on a table near the door. “Thank you. I really love it.” She turned to me and teetered a little to the right. That giggle again. “Um. Would you like a drink?”
You. I’d like you.
But she was tipsy. And innocent. No. She wasn’t innocent. The way she was looking at me was evidence of that.
And… fuck it.
I stepped inside the apartment, kicking the door closed with my foot, placing the keys on the table beside the lamp.
“Nash.”
My lips captured any other words she might have said, and her arms came around me immediately. Turning us, I walked her back into the door, pressing her into the wood.
So sweet.
Everything about her was so fucking sweet.
“Go away with me next weekend,” I whispered against her lips.
I cursed the fact that I needed to be in Nashville tomorrow. It would be good to see Mom and Dad, but I didn’t want to leave this place. Within just a couple of hours of knowing her, I wanted more.
