by Megan Kelly
She laughed, running her eyes over his long form. “I don’t think so.”
“Not literally, maybe,” he agreed. “But your other partners tonight wouldn’t have fled the dance floor like the room had caught fire.”
He pronounced it “cot far,” making her suppress a grin. And he thought he didn’t have a twang?
“Hey.” She tugged his hand to make him stop walking and face her. “I’m not out here with anyone else. I came out with you.”
His expression softened. “I appreciate that.”
Then his words caught up with her. “Have you been watching me dancing all night?”
“You’re very popular.”
Her chin lifted. “Then why didn’t you ask me to dance earlier?”
“You’re very popular.”
“What does that mean?”
Scott shrugged. “I don’t deal well with competition.”
Had his wife cheated on him? Ginger swallowed, hoping he hadn’t asked anyone about her. Since her ex-husband left her, she’d filled some of her free time with men. It irritated her that she felt guilty about it now. With Scott. That early wild streak had mellowed once she’d decided to adopt a baby on her own; still, she had to live with her choices.
He squeezed her fingers. “But you dance as though there’s nothing more important than that song and that moment. Very full of life.” He stepped closer. “You look like a flame with your bright hair and yellow dress. And I wanted to be near that, to watch your green eyes light up and feel your body sway.”
Scott drew her to him and she forgot guilt. She only felt admired. As a woman, by a man. A shiver ran over her.
“Cold?” he murmured.
“Not even close.”
He grinned as he lowered his lips over hers, warm and persuasive. She didn’t need persuading, but she appreciated the gesture as she opened her mouth to him. Scott pulled her nearer, his hands caressing her back. Her stomach clenched with need and desire burned out any chills she might have had.
He put a hand against her cheek, eyes on hers. “This is wrong. It’s too fast.”
She might agree, but she doubted she’d ever get another chance with him. He attracted her like a compass needle finding true North. Judging by the intensity of his gaze, desire tugged at him, too. “It doesn’t feel wrong.”
“No, maybe it doesn’t.” His thumb traced across her lips. “But I don’t really do this.”
“I wish you’d make an exception.”
His eyes darkened before he bent to kiss her. Heat burst across her skin. His hands tightened, securing her to him, and she was grateful for the anchor as her head swam. When Scott pulled away, his face was flushed with need.
Ginger swallowed, nervous when she hadn’t been in ages. “Do you want to…do something about it?”
“Is that an invitation? Like ‘your place or mine?’”
She nodded. How would she bear it if he said no?
His lips brushed hers. “I’d like that. Very much.”
The truth of his declaration nudged her stomach as the kiss deepened. “So.” His kiss found her cheek, then his breath was at her ear. “Your place or mine?”
No way would she let him change his mind during a car ride. “What about here?”
He tilted his head in question. She’d thrown him a curve ball.
“It is a hotel,” she said.
“Good point.” His mouth crooked, making him look endearingly nervous. “I’ll go check availability.”
As Scott strode to the reservation desk, Ginger pulled out her cell phone. Relieved to get Lisa’s voice mail, she left a brief message. “It’s 9:40. If you don’t see me in the next hour, I’ve gotten a ride home.”
If all went well, no one but Scott would see her for several hours. Or until morning.
He came toward her with a big grin and a key card. “I’ve never done this before. Checked in to a hotel without luggage.”
She laughed. “Come to think of it, I haven’t, either.” It struck her that she might be leaving in the morning in her cocktail dress. “Wait.”
His smile faded.
“I should retrieve my coat. In case, you know, coat check closes before we leave.”
“Right. Me, too.” He changed direction and marched back to the main hall. A man on a mission. The butterflies in her stomach stilled, calmed by a wave of tenderness toward him.
When they passed the gift shop, reality struck, almost making her stumble. Condoms. How could she be so stupid? Of all the nights to switch purses. She’d planned to spend the evening with Lisa and Joe, not spend the night with a guy.
“Is there anything else we’ll need?” she hinted. “Unless you…?”
“Unless I what? Here we are. Do you have your coat stub?” Scott handed his to the checker then turned to her.
Damn. Joe had her coat check stub. She didn’t know if mentioning his boss’s name would make Scott hesitate or not. Earlier he’d seemed undecided about them being together; she didn’t want to give him another reason to balk.
She stretched up to whisper in his ear. “My girlfriend’s husband has it. Why don’t you go to the gift shop while I get the check stub?”
“What do I need at…?” Light dawned across his face. “Gift shop, right. I’ll be back in a second.” He kissed her, hard. “Don’t change your mind while I’m gone.”
“You, either.”
She spotted Joe with a group of men. He was too polite to make a scene that would embarrass her. She touched his arm to draw him aside and explained the situation.
He produced the ticket from his pocket and offered it to her, capturing her hand in the process. “If you want to call me for a ride later, I’ll come.”
She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, Joe. Hopefully, this guy has enough manners to drive me home, but otherwise, I’ll call a cab. Do me a different favor, though?”
“Does it involve not telling Lisa?”
“I’d never ask that of you.”
“Good thing.”
She grinned. “But if you could keep the news to yourself for a while, just to give me time to get out of view?”
“She won’t be happy.”
“She’s been unhappy with me before.”
He grimaced. “I wasn’t referring to you.”
Ginger chuckled. “Thanks.”
“Sure you don’t want me to talk to him?”
“Do I need your approval to date your employees?”
Being a gentleman, he didn’t comment on her wording. This was as far from a date as one could get. “Make sure you call Lisa tomorrow. She’ll be worried about you.”
Which meant he was worried. Her throat tightened. “Sure thing.”
Ginger claimed her coat, finally, looking over her shoulder for Scott. So much time had elapsed, he could have had second, third and fourth thoughts by now.
She spotted him as she approached the gift shop. He hovered by the entrance. Had he seen her with his boss and decided she wasn’t worth risking his job? Joe would never fire him for being with her, but Scott wouldn’t know that, would he?
“I thought you’d left,” she said.
“No.” He looked startled. “Were you hoping I had?”
“Not at all.” Thank God she wouldn’t have to seduce him all over again. “What are you doing in here? Did they not have what we need?”
“Got that.” He patted his pocket.
Ginger laid a hand on his arm. “I have what I need, too.”
Their eyes met, then his stiff posture loosened. He understood she meant him.
He exhaled a huge breath. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”
She laughed. “You sound like I’m going to perform a root canal on you.”
“God, I hope not.” He smiled and walked toward the elevators. “I’m just relieved. It took so long getting your coat, I thought y’all had come to your senses.”
“Nope. How about you?”
“Not planning on being sensible for a while.
It’ll feel good.”
“That’s the plan.” Once in the elevator alone, she let him push the button for their floor before she pulled him to her. She ran her hands over his chest as he bent toward her. His lips covered hers, surprising her with his passion. Maybe he didn’t need warming up. She smiled against his mouth, pleased he hadn’t been having second thoughts, after all.
“What?” he asked. “Do I kiss funny?”
She started to assure him otherwise but stopped. “Hmm. I’d better double-check.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“You asked.”
His mouth closed on hers, his lips capturing her bottom lip, then his tongue swept in, arousing, claiming, inflaming her with need. Their breathing grew erratic.
When she came up for air, she shook her head. “Not funny.”
He ran his hands over her back, her hips, her breasts, sending her pulse racing. The elevator dinged as it slowed to their floor, drawing them apart. The doors opened, and they stepped out, heading toward their room. Silent, side by side, but not touching.
He stopped and drew the key card out of his pocket. The lock flashed green.
Scott opened the door and flipped on the light. “Ladies first.”
He breathed in Ginger’s exotic scent as she walked into the room. Something flowery but not cloying. More seductive than sweet. It made him think of hothouses, but maybe that was his overheated body. She’d done that to him, too.
The last time he’d felt an attraction this strong—Samantha, of course, and it was just wrong to think of her now. Not fair to any of the three of them. The similarities between the two women—both physically and in their “seize the day” outlooks—had drawn him to Ginger. But the way her touch made his blood burn led him here. That, and the concern in her eyes when that damned song started. He didn’t need to hear about missing the ones you loved. Not tonight.
Ginger tossed her coat on a chair, drawing his thoughts back to her. Her hips swayed under that silky dress in a way that roused him. Not a chance she wore anything under there. She leaned across the desk in the corner and turned on the lamp, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He trailed his eyes over her backside, thinly veiled by her dress and arched toward him, and he imagined things he could do to her on that desk. As she turned, he took a moment to appreciate the play of the light over her breasts, creating shadows and highlighting exposed skin.
His groin tightened to a deeper ache. She strolled back toward him and only then did he realize he stood like an idiot just inside the door. He’d been so transfixed by the sight of her, seductive and alluring, he hadn’t moved.
He’d noticed her on the dance floor earlier, appreciated her from a distance, and would have been satisfied watching the party girl having fun. Until he saw her standing off to the side in an unguarded moment, watching the others, and seeming lonely and out of place. Something had stirred inside him, recognizing a kindred spirit.
Ginger caught his eye and flipped off the overhead light switch, casting the room into a dim glow. Her hands slid across his chest, up to his shoulders, and he pulled her against him, his mouth devouring hers. Hot, hard, wet. He had to slow down. She deserved wooing—or at least some patience. Not to be attacked by a sex-starved man.
Her fingers brushed his stomach. His jacket opened as she slipped her hands inside, caressing his chest, sliding the material from his shoulders. She was undressing him, and he’d only contributed hot kisses.
Leaning back, he pulled off his jacket and let it drop to the floor, then ran his hands over her bare shoulders. He bent to taste the freckles there, then kissed his way up her neck, smiling as she shivered. His hands trailed up her ribs, fingers making lazy circles. Ginger pressed against him, her breasts prodding his chest. He let his thumbs trace slowly upward as his lips captured hers, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth. He wanted to savor her, to slow down and relish every second. Lick every inch of her warm skin until she burned as hot as he did already.
He ran the pad of his thumb across her nipple, and she moaned his name. His erection jutted against her abdomen like a heat-seeking missile. He caressed her shoulders, her arms, her breasts, his hands restless over her, learning her shape as he listened for the catch of her breath to discern what she liked. His fingers unhooked the clasp at her neck, and the top of her dress loosened. One shift had it dropping to her waist, trapped by the press of their hips. His breath caught at the sight of her breasts, all creamy skin and feminine curves, and he lowered his head to savor her.
“Scott,” she moaned, pushing her hips against him.
He bent her backward, one hand supporting her shoulders, one cupping her bottom, the lushness there enticing him to caress. The soft warmth of her skin filled his mouth; his tongue flicked over her nipple. Her perfume blended with her natural womanly scent, stirring him. Little noises in her throat urged him on.
She opened his shirt and pushed it down his shoulders. Scott shrugged free of it so she could touch him, then shuddered when she did. Desire burned him. He walked her toward the king-size bed, not letting any space fall between them.
“Let’s get this off,” he said, peeling the dress over her hips. Tearing it off was more likely, but he called on his years of experience to slow down. Despite feeling like a teenager with his first girl in the backseat, he was a man who knew how to please a woman, and he desperately wanted to make this pleasurable for Ginger. To thank her for reminding him how good sex felt, for helping him feel alive again.
He’d been wrong; she wasn’t naked under the dress. His hands revealed a tiny flesh-colored thong, sexier than bare skin. He swallowed the lump in his throat, his fingers moving on their own to his zipper as she shimmied—there was no other word for the wiggle of her body—out of the thong. Bending slightly without losing eye contact, she slipped off her high heels, then stood before him wearing only a small smile and earrings. Naked and alluring; a goddess with a most devoted worshipper.
He kicked out of his pants and his shoes, all patience gone. Heat, need, urgency took control of him. He couldn’t form a coherent thought, but he knew women liked words.
“Y’all are so beautiful. I’ve lost my breath.” His knees quivered so much, he could barely stand. His arms shook as he pulled her close again, but restrained his impulses and reined in his desire. He yearned to thrust into her, bury himself deep and hold her to him until neither could endure another moment without moving.
He encountered a bobby pin in her hair and gently removed it, then set to work on its companions. The barrette baffled him, and after a clumsy attempt, he broke the kiss. “You’ll have to do it. I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
Her mouth twisted briefly before her hands rose, drawing his gaze to the outthrust of her breasts. He forgot to question her odd expression as waves of apricot hair fell to her shoulders.
She set the barrette on the table, then lay back, not taking her eyes from his, inching upward on the bed to make room. He yanked off his boxers and her gaze flickered down. Her tongue came out to lick her lips as though her mouth were as dry as his. He swelled with masculine pride, glad he could make a woman this gorgeous want him. Eyes locked on her, he slid his body over her.
He took, and she gave. She took, and he gave. He formed words, but mostly he showed his appreciation in physical ways—ways Ginger approved of with gasps and groans. She moaned when he nipped at the curve of her hip, sighed when he licked her navel, and fisted her hands in his hair when he sucked at her lush breasts.
Despite her slender body and porcelain skin, she was no china doll needing his restraint. She drew her hands and mouth over him, lingering and enjoying. When she encircled him to guide him into her, he nearly came apart. It had been a long time since he’d been touched this intimately.
She pushed at his shoulder, and he rolled with her, delighted to have her atop him with his hands free to explore. He groaned as she rode him, gritting his teeth against the intense pleasure. It almost killed him, waiting to re
ach his own climax until he’d satisfied her. When she shattered, he barely had a second to congratulate himself before his next thrust pushed him over the edge.
When his heart calmed and his breathing smoothed out, he rolled to the side, pulling her with him. She cuddled close, limp, and he smiled, sated and content that he’d brought her pleasure, as well.
As he drifted, lazy thoughts floated in and out of his grasp. His mind replayed the softness of her body, the textures and scents of her, the sounds of her moans. Great sex, lovely woman.
It wasn’t until later that the fragments formed a cohesive thought. He’d just had the most incredible, hair-catching-on-fire sex of his life.
And he didn’t know the woman’s last name.
Chapter Two
Ginger came awake slowly, aware of a soft prickle against her face and a crick in her neck. What had she slept on?
Realization hit and she stilled. Scott. Her eyes fluttered open. Definitely a chest under her head and curly male hair tickling her nose.
She gave an inaudible groan. She hadn’t meant to actually sleep with him. Sex, sure, that was no problem, but she never spent the night. That led to entanglements. She must have slept like the dead not to have woken up by now. Being in his arms felt natural. A bad sign.
The slender opening in the drapes showed a black sky, but in late December that could mean midnight or nearly dawn. Light from the desk lamp she’d turned on the night before illuminated Scott’s face, serene in slumber.
His arm lay under her head but didn’t encircle her. Although snuggled against him, she could probably steal out of bed without his notice. Testing the theory, she inched her behind backward, then stealthily slid one foot toward the edge, watching his face for a reaction. His eyelids remained closed and his body still. She hated to wrench away from his warmth and considered waking him for a little good morning sex instead.
But the debate lasted only for a moment. She had to get away. Just wanting to stay longer warned her he’d breached her defenses already. He was too nice and his loneliness too touching. A guy like him—fun and kind and attentive—threatened her peace of mind.
