Niall was so … Niall. With her usual aplomb for screwing up a relationship, she'd picked the wrong man to scratch an itch. Niall was too much man for such a little slot.
When she was with him she didn't feel alone, it was as if he saw into her heart and her head. In two short weeks he'd woven himself into the fabric of her life—impromptu picnics, late-night stargazing, jokes he brought home from the office, progress meetings with him and Trena, watching the dog run for the first time, and long nights of making love—leaving her life richer, fuller. And that frightened her beyond all reason.
She should've taken Lowell, in every sense of the word, when she had the opportunity. Lowell wouldn't have made love to her in a way that was both exciting and achingly tender. Lowell would've never asked about her mother. Lowell wouldn't have foisted a dog on her. Lowell wouldn't have charmed her sister over dinner, while eyeing Tammy as if she were a piece of precious china.
Fate had a wicked sense of timing. Where had Niall been ten years ago when she'd still believed she had a chance at happy ever after?
She could never be what Niall needed and she wouldn't let him settle for less. Come hell or high water, her heart would remain her own and she'd stick to her end of the bargain.
* * *
Niall rested his head along the back of Tammy's sofa. Tonight was their last night, the self-appointed end to their "fling." He'd definitely been thinking with the wrong head when he'd agreed to those terms.
"Do you want a beer?" Tammy asked from the kitchen doorway.
"Sure." He started to stand. "But I can get it."
"Don't be silly. You're a guest." Niall felt a bit as if she'd just put him in his place. He'd increasingly had a sense of her keeping him at arm's distance. Like an emotional advance and retreat, when he got too close, she retreated. If she'd always run from her emotions this way, and he'd bet she had, it was no small wonder her first three marriages had failed. Niall pushed aside his desperate sense of time running out.
Fair Game wandered over and planted her chin on his knee. "Hi, girl. How're you doing?"
Damn if this didn't feel like home. Him, the dog, Tammy. He just needed Memphis, Gigi, Tex and Lolita to complete the picture.
Tammy walked in with two beers. "She wants you to rub her chest. She likes the area just beyond her two front legs."
Niall took the beer with his left hand and, with his right, rubbed the area Tammy had pinpointed. The dog closed her eyes and leaned against his leg.
"I told you she liked it." Tammy sat down next to Niall, one foot tucked beneath her.
"Yeah. She seems pretty happy. We should introduce her to my crew and see how they get along."
Something curiously akin to longing flickered across her face. "I know it's early, but have you had any luck finding her a home?"
"Trena hasn't mentioned it." Which would be because he'd instructed Trena to hold off, sure that given enough time, Tammy wouldn't want to give up the dog. Just as he was hoping she wouldn't want to give up the man.
"I just thought with Christmas only a week away some nice family might adopt her. She'd make someone a great Christmas present."
Yeah, and Niall was looking right at that someone if that someone would acknowledge it. "Actually, the chances of her finding a home before Christmas are pretty slim. People want puppies and kittens at Christmas." Fair Game bumped Tammy's knee with her needle nose and rubbed her head against Tammy's leg with obvious affection. "It looks to me as if she's found herself a pretty good home."
As if to give credence to his declaration, the dog stepped up on the couch, pretty as you please, curled up next to Tammy like an overgrown canine cat, and placed her head in Tammy's lap. The look on Tammy's face as she swung her gaze to the dog was absolutely priceless. She looked cute with her mouth hanging open.
Niall laughed—he seemed to do a lot of that when he was with her. "There you go. Your own personal sixty-five-pound lapdog."
Tammy definitely looked flustered. "She's never done this before."
"Want me to get her down?"
Tammy looked at Fair Game. The dog looked back with obvious adoration. "No. Just leave her. Unless you think the next people who get her will have a problem with her getting on the furniture."
She did the same thing with the dog that she did with him. The dog got too close and Tammy brought up the dog's leaving.
"You know, she doesn't have to go anywhere else."
"I told you from the beginning, I'm not an animal person." Did she realize the entire time she was disavowing her affinity for this dog and animals in general, she was scratching Fair Game behind one ear?
"And I told you I think you're wrong." She was scared to open herself up to loving an animal again, but that didn't have jack to do with some bogus affinity.
She slid her hand onto his thigh, her touch branding him through his khaki pants. Her eyes took on a smoky look he'd come to recognize. Good things came to both of them when she had that look. Her fingers slid closer to his crotch. "Are we going to spend our last night arguing? Is that what you really want to do?" she asked.
He knew exactly what was going on; he'd come to recognize the pattern. They headed into emotional areas and she pulled them back to the physical. And he'd expected the edge to wear off the physical. It was just the opposite. Things just got hotter between them. Niall closed his eyes. Jesus, he was hard already. She stroked him through his khakis and he shuddered.
No, he didn't want to argue. This was the last night to play out their fantasies. He opened his eyes and reached for her. Niall slid her dress off her shoulder. "Do you know what I really want?" He teased his fingertips against her shoulder.
"Tell me."
Niall grabbed his courage and threw out a fantasy he'd had ever since she'd mentioned dancing. "I'd like for you to dance for me. Do you think you could do that for me?"
"I'm not well versed in ballet," she flirted.
"That's good. I didn't have ballet moves in mind."
"You don't strike me as a strip club kind of guy."
"I'm not." His buddies had dragged him along to see exotic dancers once during a friend's bachelor party. That'd been more than enough. "But I've had this fantasy going ever since you mentioned dancing the other day."
Oh, yeah, she liked that idea. A decidedly naughty smile curled her lips. "Any requests?"
"Your choice." His temperature had already risen a couple of degrees just talking about it.
"I know just the thing. But you've got to put Bella in the kitchen."
"Bella?"
She shifted on her end of the couch. "Uh, the dog."
"So, you call her Bella?" Yeah, and she wanted to find the dog another home.
"Not really. Well, yeah, I guess I do. She doesn't answer to Fair Game. Anyway, that's a lame name for any animal. And it's just that she's beautiful…" Niall lost his battle with laughter. She leveled an evil look his way which he knew she didn't really mean. "Never mind, just put the dog in the kitchen."
Niall hoisted himself up off the couch. "Come on girl."
"You'll need to take her bed," Tammy said.
Niall raised his brows in inquiry.
"The floor's hard and she doesn't have a lot of padding. I don't want her undoing all of my massage. There's a box of dog treats on the counter if you'll give her one for going with you."
"Right." Niall tugged the bed out of the crate.
Tammy could deny it all she wanted, but she was smitten with this sweet little dog. "Come on, Bella."
Bella followed obediently to the kitchen. Niall settled her in, giving her the dog biscuit as Tammy had instructed. He returned to the den.
Tammy had turned out the lights and lit candles along the mantel. Gas logs burned in the fireplace and the Christmas tree lights twinkled. She stood in front of the fireplace, backlit by the licking flames of the gas logs and candles.
Niall sat on the sofa. Tension hung thick in the air, mingling with the exotic incense curling from the bur
ner, and his pulse quickened. She hadn't started and he was already hard and throbbing.
With one click of a remote, a sultry, sexy beat started. He wasn't sure who sang it, but he recognized the lyrics—hot, suggestive lyrics that proposed they "get it on."
He was ready. She did some wiggly, shimmy move with her hips. Make that more than ready. She pulled her dress over her head and flung it somewhere past his head and he reminded himself to breathe as she moved to the music in a matching black bra and panties and boots. She turned her back to him and did some quick move, bending at the waist. She shot him a wicked smile through her legs and jiggled her behind.
"Oh, baby."
She pivoted, straightened back up, and she danced over to him. With a provocative glance she put one foot on the sofa cushion next to him and climbed up over his lap, bracing the other foot on the arm of the furniture.
Oh, yeah. She wound down low, her panty-clad mound mere inches from his mouth, her luscious thighs tantalizingly close, the heady musk of her arousal surrounding him. She leaned forward and unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts. He leaned back for a better view. She shimmied her shoulders and her magnificent chest performed its own dance.
Lust and absolute excitement fogged his brain and hardened him to an almost unbearable degree. Part of him wanted to touch her, taste her. The other part of him didn't want anything this erotic to end. She stepped down off the couch and the heel of her boot caught on the sofa cushion. Niall caught her as she fell back. With a laugh and a sassy smile, she regained her footing and danced away. It could've ruined a very sexy performance. Instead, it made it even hotter, more arousing because this was real. Her and him.
The song ended. "Did you like that?" Her throaty question feathered along his nerve endings.
Obviously, no one died from a hard-on; otherwise, he'd be a dead man.
"Come here." Was that low, thick voice really his own?
"No." She shook her head, and her breasts jiggled in a motion that damn near unhinged him. A wicked, teasing glint lit her eyes. "I'm going to start this song again and you're going to dance for me."
She'd picked a hell of a time to joke around. "Yeah, right. Now, come here."
She planted her hands on her hips, sending her breasts into another dance all their own. She. Was. Killing. Him. "I'm not kidding. You've heard of dancing for your supper…" Her blue eyes sparkled. "Well, you've got to dance for something else."
If she'd asked him to do anything else… "I'd really like to do this for you, but I can't dance."
"Niall, I almost busted my butt dancing. Was that a problem for you?"
"No, but—"
Tammy sank into the armchair next to the sofa, draping one boot-clad leg over the chair's arm, the other foot on the floor, her legs splayed, the entrance to her own private paradise barely covered by a strip of black satin panties. Her navel ring glinted in the firelight. "I'm sure you can dance. I think you've just never been properly motivated." She cupped her breasts, fingering her plum-hued nipples. They puckered into tight points of invitation. His erection strained against his briefs and his mouth ran dry.
She slid her hands down her body, a slow sensuous caress, over her stomach and hips. With her palms against her inner thighs, she spread her legs. Even from the sofa, he could see the black satin of her panties was darker between her legs. Wet. Whether he could or it was just his imagination, he smelled her musky scent. She ran her tongue over the fullness of her lips, as if she were anticipating a treat. She slipped a finger beneath the edge of her panties and she breathed a little harder and faster. Or was that him? She edged her finger out of her panties, brought it to her breast and rubbed it over her nipple.
His groan echoed off the walls. Damn it to hell. She wasn't fighting fair.
"There's motivation, and then there's motivation." Niall stood. "Just remember, you asked for this."
With a soft laugh and a hot look, Tammy hit the remote and started the music. Dancing was a challenge on a good day, how the hell was he supposed to do this with a hard-on? He comforted himself with the thought that she'd at least have sex with him for trying. Niall began to move in time to the music—or at least he hoped it was in time to the music.
It was amazing how the glint of admiration in Tammy's eyes encouraged him and helped him forget he'd never owned a sense of rhythm, bad or otherwise. Swaying in time to the music and slowly taking his shirt off was easier than he'd thought. His shirt joined Tammy's clothes piled in the floor. By the time he worked his belt free and slid it through the loops, he was really getting into it, not feeling a bit ridiculous, as he'd thought he might.
He'd always just been Niall. Easygoing, laid-back, rock-steady Niall. Now, for the first time in his life, he was sexy, wicked Niall. And he liked it. By the time the song ended he had the hip thrust down pat and had worked his way down to his briefs.
Judging by her lustful smile, Tammy enjoyed his show. "I thought you couldn't dance."
"I can't."
"I beg to differ."
Another sultry, hip-grinding tune started. Now that he was getting the hang of this dancing thing, he sort of liked it. Niall held out his hand. "Come dance with me."
"I've created a monster."
"I never had the right dance partner before."
Slowly Tammy rose to her feet and placed her hands in his. Both seminaked, they swayed to the rhythm of the music, close but only touching with their hands. It was terribly arousing for their bare skin to be so close.
Her breasts glanced against his chest like a feather gusseted by the wind. The brief contact sizzled through him, straight to his groin.
"You are a beautiful man." Her husky assertion stirred against his chest. When he was with her, he felt like more than he'd ever felt before. Like he was a superhero. Like he could accomplish anything.
Tammy leaned forward and dragged her tongue across his flat male nipple. Fire arced through him. Her marauding tongue flicked against his other nipple. He dropped his head back and gave himself over to the pure pleasure of the moment. She licked at the base of his neck at the same moment her panty-clad mound ground against his arousal.
A man could only stand so much. Niall dropped to the couch, pulling her down astride him. "Dancing lessons are over."
* * *
Tammy lay very still. Very quiet. Waiting for her equilibrium, her sense of self to return. Nothing in her thirty-two years had prepared her for that. For this. For the connection she felt with Niall. The sense of change. The sense she'd never be the same again.
Sex wasn't supposed to be this soul-shattering experience that mined emotions. She'd had plenty of orgasms, but they'd all been her own. But this time, Niall had been there with her. Not in just the physical sense, that wasn't a novelty. It was an emotional and mental union, as if she'd united with a soul mate.
Slowly her sense of self returned, cloaking her in the detachment she'd lost in the heat of their passion. From the kitchen, a mournful sound arose. Tammy jacknifed up, almost whacking Niall's chin with her head. "What's the matter? It sounds like she's dying. You've got to do something, Niall."
Niall pulled her back down to his shoulder. "She'll be okay. She's just rooing. It's a greyhound thing. She'll quit in a minute."
The awful sound continued, sending apprehension down her spine, despite his reassurance. "But why's she doing that?"
"Separation anxiety," he said.
Tammy totally related. She knew, soul deep, that her fling was over with Niall. On the brink of suffering her own brand of separation anxiety, she felt a bit like rooing right along with Bella. "She'll be okay," he added.
"How long will it last?" She couldn't bear much more of the dog's mournful cry. It was ripping her apart.
"It's like having a baby crying. You don't want to reinforce her behavior by giving in to it."
"Well, I'm not sure how much longer I can listen to this. She sounds pitiful."
"She's just missing you." There was something about the way
he said it, the look in his eye, that made the sentiment his own. Her breath hitched in her throat and her heart flip-flopped.
"You know I'm not an animal lover—"
"You've mentioned that on occasion," he said dryly.
She ignored his interruption, "—but she's really a very sweet dog."
"Yes, Bella seems a very nice girl. A little neurotic…"
That kind of misunderstanding was just the thing that concerned Tammy. What if someone else misunderstood Bella, as well? "She's sensitive, but she most certainly isn't neurotic."
The fire's glow picked up his teasing smirk and the glint in his eye. She laughed and pretended to smack him. She'd never laughed with a man as much as she laughed with Niall. "You jerk. You should feel very guilty about baiting me."
Mercifully, the dog stopped the dreadful sound.
"You're right. I should." He tightened his arm around her. "But I don't."
It had never felt so easy to be with someone. So comfortable. For one crazy moment the idea occurred to her that Niall genuinely liked her for herself—not some image she projected.
With his other hand splayed across her stomach, Niall toyed with her navel ring.
"It's chilly, but not too cold. Let's go outside. Maybe you could put on those flannel pajamas—"
"You like my flannel pajamas?" Just when she thought she had him pegged, he surprised her—like when he danced for her earlier.
"I think you're cute in them." No one had ever accused her of cuteness. She sort of liked it. "Put them on and we can sit outside under your comforter and watch the stars."
He was sexy and tender and quite literally took her breath. "You are the most romantic man I've ever met."
"Do you really think so?"
"Didn't I just say so?"
"Mia always said I was the most pragmatic man she knew."
Mia. Just her name caused the hair on the back of Tammy's neck to stand up. Mia. Shit-for-brains Mia. It was one thing not to want to marry Niall—Tammy totally understood and related to that sentiment. But how could Mia not recognize what a great guy she'd had? Shit for brains was the only explanation Tammy could come up with. "It doesn't sound as if you and Mia were suited at all."
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