She bit back a sigh. Oh crap, he’d actually expected an answer.
He really wanted to talk.
What. The. Fuck. Didn’t he realize that she was about to make all his dreams come true?
Irritation put a bit of a dent in her perfect timeless one-night-of-passion bubble.
She let out a small sigh. Fine. He wanted to talk? She could talk.
The top of her head reached his shoulder, even in heels, so she was forced to go up on tip-toe until her lips reached his ear. “I’m thinking of how good you’ll feel when you’re lying on top of me,” she said, her voice shockingly husky.
Well, shit. She turned herself on with that Kathleen Turner voice.
She pressed against him and felt the hard bulge of his cock against her belly. Yup, he’d liked it too. She grinned as she let her lips tease his ear. “I’m thinking of all the ways you’re going to pleasure me tonight,” she continued, mainly because talking dirty was making her hot and nicely drowning out the alarm bells.
Also, she was fairly sure her murmurs were doing the trick of distracting him from this stupid notion that they should talk first.
Or at all.
His arms tightened around her and he let out a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. Then his lips were over hers again and they were frantic, urgent. She reveled in that, savoring it and loving how it matched her own desperate desire.
This. This was what she wanted. Escape. To drown in bliss and forget that the world existed.
Just for one night.
And for that night, that was exactly what she got. Her nameless lover seemed to forget about talking entirely as he scooped her up into his arms the moment the elevator came to a stop. His lips never left hers for long as he carried her down the hall and let them into his place.
Distantly she was impressed by his ability to hold her, kiss her until she was panting, and still navigate walking and unlocking.
The man had skills.
Then they were inside the apartment and she didn’t take note of a single thing. She presumed there was a living room and a hallway, but all she was really aware of was his bed when he set her on it, his gentleness at odds with the franticness of their kissing and groping.
Then he was on top of her, just like she’d talked about, and oh holy fuck, it felt even better than she’d imagined. He was hard…everywhere. Despite their size difference when standing, they seemed to fit together like a puzzle lying down.
He hitched up the hem of her dress until it was around her waist.
Thank God she’d worn her sexy panties. Screw you, James. Someone else was getting a glimpse of the lingerie that had been so far outside her budget it had almost made her cry.
But right now it was worth it, because in the dim light from the outside street lights she watched as his gaze darkened into something so sinfully primal, it made her moan with desire.
This. This was what she’d wanted. What she’d needed. A fierce and elemental coming together—a passion that would erase the rest of the world, if only for a brief moment.
She tugged him back down to her, her hands desperate as they tugged at his suit jacket. He helped her shed his clothes even as he managed to wriggle her dress off her.
His bare chest was sculpted and beautiful. His whole body was a thing of beauty, with its perfect long lines and lithe muscles. She smoothed her hands over his chest, his back, his shoulders, trying to absorb all of him. Trying to take it all in as her body grew desperate for release.
His boxers and her thin, sexy panties were the only thing stopping them from coming together in the way that would bring her the relief, the release, the utterly blissful escape she craved.
He moved his head down so he could nip at her breasts, which he was cradling in his hands as though they were precious. Her hands clung to his hair as he licked and sucked on her nipples until she was ready to scream from the sweet torture.
“Fuck me,” she demanded as she tugged his hair until his face was level with hers.
“Are you sure we’re not moving too quickly?”
She stared at him in openmouthed shock. He couldn’t be serious. He could not be serious.
“You’re not serious,” she whispered.
What was he thinking, that he could tease her body, bring her so desperately close to oblivion…and then walk away? That they would pull their clothes back on and go out to the kitchen for a nice chat?
Yeah, I don’t think so.
His brows drew down in concern as he studied her. “I don’t want to rush you.” He licked his lips and she could feel him trying to steady his breathing. “I don’t want to rush this.”
She had a feeling her blatant confusion was written all over her face. What was he talking about. What this?
She shook her head. It didn’t matter. None of this chatter mattered. The only thing that mattered was that he finish what he started.
She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him with all the frantic urgency she felt. All the desire, all the passion, and all the pent-up frustration. Fuck me, damn it!
She felt him cave and heard his surrender in the soft groan that slipped into her mouth.
Then he was moving with the same frantic desperation, his hands tugging off her panties and then his boxers, his lips never leaving her body as he fumbled in his nightstand.
Leaning back for a hot second, she watched with mouthwatering anticipation as he rolled a condom onto his long, thick cock.
When he entered her, she cried out. Yes. This! This was everything she’d needed and more.
This…this was perfection.
Chapter Four
Sneaking out of someone’s apartment in the wee hours of the morning was never a classy affair. Yvette might as well have been hungover as she struggled into her dress by the front door, not wanting to wake him by dressing in the bedroom.
He’d looked so peaceful in sleep. That stern expression was replaced by a soft, pleasant expression that was rather adorable, really.
Just like his few and fleeting smiles, she’d taken a moment to fully absorb that sleepy relaxed expression because she knew with certainty that she was one of few to see it.
This guy was one in a million. A rare, diamond-in-the-rough treasure. That much she knew even though she didn’t know some other things about him…like his name, for example.
She cringed as she opened the door, hoping against hope that the hinges didn’t squeak and the door didn’t click too loudly behind her.
Holding her heels in her hand she padded barefoot to his elevator. Once inside she breathed out in relief. She’d gotten away.
From a man she’d just thought of as a treasure.
She shook her head at her own ridiculousness. If only nice guys were her type, she’d be all over him. But, nice guys made her want to bolt, whether it made sense or not, and this guy deserved better than that.
He deserved better than her.
She found herself magnanimously wishing him all the best in life as she gave one last glance up at his apartment building before slipping into the waiting taxi that she’d had the foresight to hail from her phone before leaving the apartment.
He lived in a nice neighborhood, but no hood was truly nice at this time of day.
She checked the clock on her phone as the taxi made its way to her not-nearly-so-nice neighborhood in Brooklyn. Perfect. She had time to shower, change, and maybe even squeeze in a quick nap before heading back to Manhattan to meet Kat and Caleb for brunch.
Brunch was sort of their thing. Kat because she was a morning person, Caleb because he had too much energy and wanted to get out and enjoy every waking moment of the weekends, and Yvette because…well, to be honest, it was usually because she was nursing a hangover and a little hair of the dog was the best cure, in her humble opinion.
But today she didn’t have a hangover—yay her! And she was up and ready to go.
Really, by the time she arrived at their favorite brunch spot, she was feeling qu
ite proud of herself, despite the whole sneaking out of a nameless man’s apartment thing.
“Where’s Caleb?” she asked as she sank into the booth across from Kat.
“He bailed,” she said, already sipping on a bloody mary. “Too hungover, apparently.”
Yvette shook her head and making a tsking sound, oddly enjoying the morally superior role since for once she was not the hungover one. Even Kat, who tended to drink in moderation, had a decidedly peaked look about her.
“Are you feeling all right?” she asked.
Kat nodded and gave her a grin. “I’ll survive. It was a long night, but I think everyone had fun.”
“Oh totally,” Yvette nodded.
Kat’s eyes narrowed on her. “Speaking of long nights…I lost track of you pretty early on. When did you leave?”
“Umm.” She leaned over and grabbed some bread from the bread basket, pretending to be absorbed in the act of spreading her butter. It wasn’t like Kat would judge—her best friend was notoriously open-minded about… well, pretty much everything. She might be a bit of a mom figure to her and Caleb, but Kat never made them feel bad about casual sex or overindulging in the booze.
Still, having to admit that she went off with some stranger to go bang like rabbits was not exactly something she felt like bragging about. Maybe because she didn’t have a hangover to concentrate on, she found herself dwelling on the icky feelings that crept in every time she thought of how she’d snuck out like a cat burglar.
“You met someone, didn’t you?” Kat asked, leaning over the table, her voice filled with way more excitement than was suitable for this hour of the day, bloody mary or no bloody mary.
“I wouldn’t say that,” she hedged.
Kat raised one brow in a knowing look. “But you went home with someone.”
It wasn’t even a question. God, when had she become so predictably slutty? She supposed she’d been that way since they’d first met in college. She’d been recuperating from an epic heartbreak of a breakup and had learned quickly that the best way to cope was to distract, distract, distract. The guys she’d met were all too willing to help her forget.
It also wasn’t a reach to say that it had become something of a pattern, one that she might want to think about altering…but not at this particular moment. She took a sip of her drink that the waitress set in front of her. Right now she didn’t want to dwell on her actions the previous night, and she really, truly didn’t want to admit to sneaking out of a random guy’s place while he slept.
Some things were just better off being swept under the rug and last night’s antics was one of them.
Besides, she’d come here with a mission. “So, you’d texted yesterday that you might have a solution to my problem?” she said, not so subtly changing the topic.
Kat nodded. “Yeah, I know a guy who can help you. I think he’d be up for it.”
Yvette sat up straighter, excitement making her forget all about the icky feelings she’d been harboring this morning. If she could get this grant, she might just be able to give up her lame side jobs, of which she had many. She might actually get paid to do what she loved. Create. Make art. Not wait tables.
Her sales had started to take off with this last show, thanks in no small part to Kat’s new boyfriend, Bryce. The fact that he’d bought her biggest, most expensive piece had set a trend. The “sold” sign on the painting for the remainder of the show seemed to trigger a domino effect. Or maybe she’d finally found a series that appealed to the market as well as her aesthetic.
A girl could hope.
But in order to get this grant, she had to submit a ridiculous amount of paperwork proving how poor she was but that she tried. She had to walk that fine line of making enough money that she was clearly a go-getter, but not too much so she was still deemed poor enough to be a recipient. And while she knew she fell within this tricky little window, proving it was the hard part. Looking at numbers and forms tended to make her eyes cross and her head hurt.
“That was an awfully big sigh,” Kat pointed out.
Yvette sighed again for effect. “I’m just feeling sorry for myself. Why do they insist on making artists do math for money? I would happily draw these people a picture of my current state of squalor if that’s what it took.”
Kat laughed and reached over to pat her arm. “Don’t worry, Yve. If Darren can’t do it, I’ll find someone else. Or I’ll make Bryce do it. He’s pretty good with finance stuff.”
Yvette snorted into her drink. Pretty good? The man had taken his family’s company and turned it into a mega success. But yeah, sure, she supposed he was pretty good.
Kat made a face as she shoved a bite of salad into her mouth—Kat insisted on ordering salads even though seeing greens at brunch made Yvette inexplicably angry. Everyone knew brunch was for carbs. Lots and lots of carbs.
“I’d offer to help you myself but me and accounting aren’t the best of friends,” she said. “Now if you wanted me to pitch you and your art to these guys,” pausing as she jabbed two thumbs at her chest, “I’m your gal.”
Yvette rolled her eyes. Everyone knew Kat was an incredible saleswoman—she’d always won the awards for most sales when she worked for others. Now that Kat was running her own business, Yvette had no doubt her friend’s success would continue.
“So when can this guy help me?” she asked. “All the paperwork and financial records are due to the foundation next week.”
Kat winced. “I haven’t actually asked him yet….”
She bit back a groan. Great, her savior didn’t even know he was being offered up.
“But I’ll ask him later today, I promise.”
At Yvette’s frown, she straightened. “Hey, it’s not my fault you put this off until the last minute.”
This was true.
“Besides, I’d planned on introducing you two at the party last night so you could talk to him about it yourself,” Kat said, reaching for her drink. “But somebody disappeared.”
Kat’s brows inched up as she took a sip of her drink and Yvette couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s persistence. Still, she kept mum, shoving another roll into her mouth instead of answering.
“Oh, come on, just tell me his name,” Kat pleaded.
Uh, yeah, that definitely wasn’t going to happen. She’d have to know his name first…. She munched on her roll, enjoying Kat’s rapidly growing frustration at not knowing. Kat hated when she and Caleb held out on her.
“Please, please, please.” Kat held her hands up as if in prayer.
“You wouldn’t know him,” she said.
Kat fell back in her seat with a thud. “If he was at my party, I’d know him. I sent the invites, remember?”
Yvette narrowed her eyes. “Touché.”
A silence fell between them. “You’re really not going to tell me, are you?”
Yvette shook her head, giving in to the laugh that had been bubbling up in the silence. “Nope.”
Kat looked so crestfallen, she felt obligated to make her feel better. Patting her arm like Kat had done to her, she said, “Don’t worry, sweetie. It’s not like it was anything serious.” With a wistful sigh that held just a bit of unexpected sadness, she told her the truth. “I’m never going to see him again.”
Chapter Five
Darren held the bouquet of flowers as he stood outside the studio space address that Kat had given him the day before.
He ordered his palms to stop sweating.
They did not listen.
His heart was racing as he drew in a deep breath and tried to figure out what to say.
“Hello” was probably a safe start.
Followed by a “how are you?” most likely. Then perhaps he could ask what he’d said or done that had made her flee his bed in the middle of the night.
Unless maybe that question would scare her away again?
He stared at the metal door as if it might have the answers.
Maybe he should have asked Kat yes
terday when she’d called. He’d thought maybe she was calling to ream him out. He’d been sitting there in his apartment replaying everything that had happened the night before and trying desperately to figure out what had gone wrong. And then Kat’s name popped up on his phone. He had the horrible idea that Yvette had gone running to Kat and that Kat was calling on her behalf because…what? He’d taken advantage of her? He’d rushed her?
But she hadn’t seemed terribly intoxicated and she’d insisted they weren’t rushing….
Hell, he still wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong.
And Kat hadn’t given him any clues. In fact, he wasn’t even sure she knew that he’d slept with her best friend, so he’d done what he did best and kept his mouth shut. If Yvette hadn’t told her friend then he wouldn’t either.
But was it just coincident then that Kat reached out asking for his help with Yvette’s finances…or had Yvette asked Kat to reach out to him?
The latter was what had his heart doing a crazy jig, running away at a rapid rate as though he’d just downed several large pots of coffee.
But he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to talk to her, figure out what had happened, what he could do to make things right.
He straightened as he finally rang the damn buzzer.
Once they’d worked through whatever he’d done wrong, he’d ask her out. For real. On a proper date, like she deserved.
He was still kicking himself for moving so quickly, even though it had been quite possibly the best night of his life. No, not “possibly.” It had been the best night of his life. And not just because the sex had been amazing. The whole night had been magical from their chance meeting to her brilliant smiles to her sweet kisses.
And yeah, the sex had been amazing.
But they’d moved too quickly, clearly, if she’d felt the need to run away from him that night. He just had to hope and pray that she didn’t have regrets.
The door swung open and he found himself face to face with his dream girl. Still a vision come to life. Everything he’d ever wanted and never known he’d needed, standing there with her hair pulled up haphazardly and smudges of paint smeared on her cheeks. A giant apron-smock type thing was draped over her, hiding her delicious body.
Passion for Players (Sexy in Spades Book 2) Page 3
