Mia had bitched about him taking the chimenea, but he'd stuck to his guns. It was the only thing they'd bought together that he took when he left. He struck a match and the kindling burst into flame. Sparks scattered out of the top and Niall poked at the wood until the bigger pieces caught fire.
Carrying two cups and the opened bottle, Tammy shouldered her way out the door.
"That's some fire there, Doc. You sure know how to get it hot." She backed up to the fire, absorbing the heat. She closed her eyes, a sensuous expression on her face. "Ummm. It feels good."
He reminded himself to breathe. "It's seasoned, so it'll burn hot and fast. I'll just have to stoke it more often."
"A little more work, but anything that feels this good is worth it."
Niall laughed from the sheer pleasure of the moment, the crisp night, the warm fire and her company. "Here." He pulled the wooden Adirondack love seat closer to the chimenea's metal grate. "I don't have anything more comfortable. Another vet school leftover."
"I didn't come over for the furniture." Even her laugh held a husky nuance that stoked the fire simmering inside him.
"That's a good thing." He took the wine bottle from her. The brief sweep of her fingers against his tracked heat along his nerve endings.
In the waning light, the pebbled tips of her breasts thrusts against her sweater front. "Is it too cold out here?"
She followed his gaze.
Christ, he could've just said, I was staring at your chest and noticed…
"No, I'm not cold." Her eyes held his as he poured wine into their cups. "I think it feels good. How about you, are you warm enough?"
He personally felt as if he was burning up with a fever from the inside out. "Yes."
She sank onto the love seat and stretched her legs out in front of her with sensual grace. She smiled up at him, "We can always share body heat if it gets chilly."
"Well, there's a plan." Niall folded himself into the other side of the love seat, placing the wine bottle on the deck floor. In the close confines, her body pressed against his from shoulder to thigh.
His heart thumped harder and faster. He hadn't tasted his wine yet and he already felt slightly drunk, intensely aroused by her body heat, her womanly fragrance and her close proximity.
She leaned back into the natural pitch of the chair and rested her head, revealing the delicate slant of her nose, the soft fullness of her cheek. "Ahhh. This was just what I needed, a toasty fire on a chilly night."
Her long, drawn out sigh did crazy things to his heartbeat. He should say something. Unfortunately, he seemed incapable of saying anything. Awareness wrapped around them, drawing them closer.
Niall knew they were going to take up where they'd left off last night. Anticipation was a powerful aphrodisiac.
Her cinnamon-scented perfume teased him, mingling with the fire's wood smoke. Tammy turned and looked at him without lifting her head, her mouth's fullness mere inches from his own, her eyes reflecting the fire's flickering flames. "Thanks for inviting me over."
Another fire, tendered by want, spread through him. "I'm glad you're here."
And he was. For the first time in months, he considered Mia's marriage refusal from a new perspective. If she hadn't turned him down, Tammy wouldn't be sharing a bottle of wine, a cozy fire and the close confines of lawn furniture with him.
Something inside him clicked as he let the past go, along with the anger and bitterness that had tinged him. He raised his cup in a toast. "To new beginnings."
She touched her cup to his, echoed his sentiment, and sipped. "Good wine. Not too sweet. Not too dry. You didn't have any trouble finding your way around today, did you?"
"No. You gave good directions." And she'd given him the right directions when she told him she was the town bad girl. At least two people had warned him about his thrice-divorced neighbor, her alcoholic father and her absentee mother. And he'd politely let them know he formed his own opinions of people based on his experience with them.
Tammy leaned forward. She picked a couple of pieces of paper up off the wood decking, and squinted at them. "What's this?"
He'd forgotten about those. They must've fallen out of his pocket when he'd built the fire. "Nothing important."
She glanced at them and then back at him. "I told you women would flock around you if you looked lost."
"Actually, I didn't have to look lost." Three different women had given him their name and number in the span of half an hour. Attractive women. He felt fairly certain he could've had a date with one of them tonight. Instead, he'd waited for Tammy to get home because none of those women intrigued him the way Tammy did. Attraction had slammed him when he met her. He hadn't felt a remote flicker of interest in those women today.
"Merry Franklin. Barb Watson. Doris Turner." She read the names and then handed them to him. "That's quite a selection. Have you thought about which one you want to ask out?"
Was that a faint tightness edging her smile? He hoped so. His interest in her ran deep enough that he would resent her cheerfully passing him off to other women.
Across the darkening canvas of the autumn sky, stars began to appear. In the distance a car door slammed and children's high voices carried through the evening. Rather than intruding, the sounds accentuated their seclusion.
Her gaze reflected the heat that had simmered between them from the minute he'd met her.
"Yes, I've thought about which one I want to ask out." He drank from his cup, looking into her eyes, letting her see the desire for her that was burning him up. He put his cup on the deck and leaned forward, deliberately tossing the names and numbers into the chimenea. He sank back into the seat. The flames devoured the paper within seconds. "None of them."
"You're sure you wanted to do that?"
"Positive. They don't interest me."
"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing."
"Neither am I."
She shifted on the hard wooden seat and her stockinged thigh slid against his leg. The sensation shook him, even through the layer of denim.
Tammy sipped her wine and looked at him. Her face was close enough that he could see a faint smattering of freckles across her nose in the firelight. "Why didn't you kiss me last night? You wanted to, didn't you?"
He trailed the back of his fingers against her cheek. Smooth satin. "I've never wanted to kiss a woman more than I wanted to kiss you last night. But I thought it was too soon after your divorce. I didn't want to make a pass at you when you'd been nice enough to invite me over." It sounded foolish when he tried to explain it, but she deserved the truth.
She turned her head and nuzzled his knuckles. "Hmm. So noble."
He didn't feel remotely noble now. Just very hungry for her. "Why did you kiss me last night?"
She reached up and stroked her fingertips across his jawline. "Because I wanted to."
Simple. Hedonistic. She feathered her fingers along his throat and he shuddered. "Hmm. So bold."
She stilled her hand against his neck, her scent weaving around him. "I am when I want something. Does it offend you?"
"No. I like it." Her lush mouth and body heat drew him like a moth to a flame.
She dropped her cup to the floor, spilling her wine. She didn't even glance in that direction. "Better to waste good wine than opportunity," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Did she slide onto his lap or did he pull her there? He didn't know. It only mattered she was there.
He buried his hand in her hair, molding his fingers against her scalp, and gave in to the temptation that had plagued him all day. The taste of the chilled wine against her warm flesh scattered rational thought. Her lips clung to his, inviting him to drink deeper. She stroked her fingers against his neck, her touch trailing fire against his bare skin.
Hungry to taste more, he kissed from the edge of her mouth to the delicate line of her jaw. Her breath rasped in his ear in small gusts. Sliding his hand through her hair, he teased his tong
ue along the shell of her ear. The studs lining the delicate area played erotically against his tongue. Her sweater's softness cushioned his jaw.
Tammy twisted her head and rained slow, languid kisses along his jaw, exploring the sensitive area beneath his ear with her tongue. Niall dropped his head back, giving himself over to the sweet seduction of her mouth.
He swept his hand along the curve of her back and beneath her sweater's edge to the warm satin of her skin.
With a small moan she reclaimed his mouth, her tongue exploring him with bold sweeping strokes that throbbed through him. He groaned his pleasure and swept his tongue along the wet, slick heat of her mouth.
Without interrupting the kiss, she slid her leg over his, straddling him, her breasts pressed against his chest, her panty-covered sex riding his hard-on.
Frantic need replaced languor. Her mouth was hot and demanding. She buried her hands in his hair, her fingers against his scalp, holding him closer, a willing captive. He splayed his hands across the feminine curve of her back, pulling her tightly to him until her nipples stabbed against his chest. He slid his hands along her stockinged legs, stroking the nylon-clad length until he found the top of her thigh-highs. He groaned when he reached her bare thighs, then the plump rounded fullness of her satin-covered buttocks beneath the edge of her skirt. He gripped her, filled his hands with her cheeks, massaging them, squeezing them in a rhythm that matched the thrusts of their parrying tongues. Tugging her closer, Niall lost the last glimmer of reason when she surged against his erection.
Like a dash of cold water, barking erupted inside the house. Reluctantly she pulled her mouth away from his and he withdrew his hand from beneath her skirt. Her warm breath gusted against his throat in short, hard pants.
The barking grew louder and then faded. The dogs were racing between the front and back doors. "Someone's at the door."
"I think you're right."
He should go check. Instead he sat and stared at the picture she made with her mussed hair, kiss-swollen lips and her eyelids at an aroused half-mast. And quite frankly, he didn't have the strength of will to move her off his throbbing lap.
"I should go." Tammy stood and tugged her skirt down over her stockings. "I'll let myself out through the gate."
Niall passed an unsteady hand over his face. "I'm sorry about—"
"I'm not." She leaned forward, her hand on his chest, and pressed a hot, openmouthed kiss on his lips. She straightened and walked down the deck stairs. "You'd better go answer your door."
He stood, not sure what to say, except he knew he didn't want her to go. "Tammy…"
"Good night, Niall." The gate closed behind her.
Niall roused himself and grabbed a dish towel on his way through the kitchen. He could hardly open the door sporting a raging hard-on and whoever was there didn't seem inclined to go away. If this was some guy selling something, he was about to enact his own version of Death of a Salesman.
* * *
Tired of tossing and tangling in her sheets, Tammy abandoned her bed and tugged the down comforter off behind her. She wrapped herself in its warmth as she made her way through the dark house to the patio.
She hadn't been this unhinged by a kiss in, well, maybe ever. She flushed, simply remembering the feel of Niall's large hands on her butt, his hard length pressed between her aching thighs, his taste in her mouth, his scent on her skin.
And there was a whole lot more going on than him just being a convenient, warm body. Lowell was a convenient, warm body and she hadn't been interested. The chemistry hadn't been there—not like it was with Niall.
He was so different from any other man she'd ever known, with his quirky sense of honor that kept him from kissing her last night and had him apologizing tonight.
The way she saw it, there was only one sensible solution. Seduce him. She wanted him. He wanted her. Two consenting adults. She'd turned down Lowell. Niall had burned those phone numbers. Denial, rather than smothering the flame of desire, merely intensified it. Getting one another out of their systems would be the smart—and gratifying, if tonight was an accurate barometer—thing to do.
Stretching out on the chaise lounge, ensconced in the down comforter, Tammy welcomed the night's chilly embrace. She looked up. Framed by the towering outline of trees, myriad stars littered the inky black of the sky. She'd once told Olivia the best view at Pops's house was from the loft in the ramshackle barn out back. And it was. One of her favorite childhood memories was lying on her back, the sweet scent of musty hay surrounding her, peering up at the night sky through the missing tin in the roof.
Now she was content to sit here, reveling in her insignificance in the face of the universe. Aloneness, her one faithful companion since childhood, settled beside her.
Some folks, lacking a certain discernment, might mistake her aloneness for loneliness. She wasn't lonely a bit, but she couldn't recall a time when she hadn't been alone. Even with her three husbands and the men in between, her soul had remained untouched. There had been times, during and after sex, when she'd been achingly close to connecting to another human being, but ultimately there'd been no cigar.
At a younger age than she cared to remember, losing her virginity had been ridiculously easy. Naively, she'd thought to lose her aloneness at the same time, back when she still believed in the fiction of true love and soul mates. She smiled at the universe with only a tinge of melancholy. Her virginity was long gone and her aloneness had never left her side.
Without fanfare, a star arced across the sky's canvas, trailing light in its wake. Pure magic. She snuggled deeper into the comforter.
"Pretty awesome, wasn't it?" Niall's voice floated across the fence, under cover of darkness. It should've startled her. Oddly, it didn't. In a way she'd been expecting him.
"My mother used to say a shooting star was like sharing a piece of heaven." Of course, that was before her mother had dumped them all and left the family. She hadn't shared a shooting star with anyone since her mother. Until now. Until Niall. Gooseflesh danced across her skin at the realization.
"I'd go along with that." She heard his easy smile in the deep timbre of his voice. She envisioned his smile starting in his eyes and revealing the scar on his upper lip. "Looks like you have a better view than I do, less big trees in the way."
And it looked like he was angling for an invite. They had unfinished business. "Come on over. The gate's unlocked."
Anticipation trailed through her much like the shooting star as Niall's dark form moved silently along his fence line and entered her garden. What was it about this man that got under her skin? Surely, it was nothing that a little indulgence and seduction wouldn't take care of.
"It's dark over here." A faint breeze whispered through the trees, ruffling her hair and bearing his scent through the night shadows. A shiver that had nothing to do with the wind chased across her skin, tightening her nipples against her pajama's thick flannel.
"Watch your step. There's a slight step up to the stones."
Niall settled into the other chaise.
"How was Mavis's casserole?" She couldn't help teasing him. She'd checked out his visitor from the dark corner of her yard when she'd gone home. Mavis Taylor had stood on his front porch, her blue hair coiffed in neat curls, bearing a casserole dish like a virginal sacrifice. Mavis could, and would, talk for hours.
Niall groaned. "She's a very nice lady and I'm now fully acquainted with her family tree, including all her great-nieces and nephews and I fully regret that I wasn't here a month ago so that I could save her parakeet, Midge. But, she does make a mean chicken casserole. I told her I wouldn't eat if she didn't have some with me."
He was quite possibly the nicest man she'd ever met. "Mavis is a lonely little old lady. You probably made her week."
He shrugged. "She enjoyed talking. But that was fine. I don't particularly enjoy eating alone."
Tammy didn't mind a bit eating alone. There were a number of things she didn't mind doing alone, but
there was one thing in particular she was tired of doing alone.
"Do you sit out here often at night?" he asked.
"Often enough. I love the night sky, the stars. I have ever since I was a little girl. Staring at the sky beats staring at four walls and a ceiling when you can't sleep."
"I had a little trouble sleeping myself."
Tammy smiled at the edge of frustration in his voice. She knew exactly what had put it there and she knew exactly how to take it away.
"It sounds like you have unresolved issues. Perhaps I could help."
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me."
"You would? Hmm." She stood, wrapped in her comforter. "If I were seducing you, it'd probably work better if I got a little closer." She moved behind his chaise and leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his shoulders. His sharp intake of breath hissed in the still night. "Just so I'd know what to look for, how would you seduce me?" she asked, hoping he'd play the game.
"If I was trying to seduce you, I'd do this." With his hand wrapped around her wrist, he pulled her around to stand beside him. He paused, offering her the opportunity to end this right now. He was twice her size and his huge hand swallowed her wrist, but his touch was loose and nonthreatening. She could've freed herself at any time. But the only thing she wanted to be free of was the ache inside.
The moment to walk away passed. He tugged her down. Tammy sank onto his lap and covered them with the comforter. Niall was hard and big in all the right places. Wide chest, broad shoulders, muscular arms, hard abs. Her buttocks fit snug against the vee of his thighs, her legs draped over his. She braced her hand against his chest. Even through the layer of his sweatshirt, his heart pounded against her fingertips. Her heart beat a matching rhythm.
Like a match to tinder, the attraction between them burst into flame. There was a time to take things slow, savor the moment. This wasn't one of them. It wasn't even a remote possibility. She'd been good for so long. Too long.
She reached up and pulled his mouth to hers. His lips met hers with an urgency that matched her own. Hot. Hard. Frantic.
Plunging tongues. Seeking hands. Urgent desire. Heat raced through her like a wildfire out of control. Moisture drenched her aching thighs. Cool air rushed against her heated flesh.
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