“Oh.” She swallowed hard, her eyes shuttering closed when she felt the firm brush of his lips. They were warm, damp and his breath smelled faintly of beer. “I—I don’t normally need a play by play,” she said weakly.
His fingers curled about her chin and held her in place. “Good. I’ll just kiss you then.”
And he did.
Chapter Two
Eric had no idea what possessed him to do this—to kiss this woman. Maybe it was the way she got defensive earlier and her eyes had sparkled with anger. Or when she basically told him to get lost and find some random guy to fuck. That had been surprising. It revealed she had a bit of fire hidden beneath that calm–tinged-with-sadness demeanor she held so close.
Inhaling deep, he breathed her heady scent. She smelled good. And she tasted good too, fresh and sweet and faintly of cranberries. From the moment he shook her hand he’d felt a connection with her. A sort of zing that passed between them when their palms met and it had been zinging all night.
Now it was like alarm bells clanged in his head. Louder and louder the longer he touched her, kissed her, felt her shift within his arms. He had her back pressed to the rough wall, her body smashed against his, her slender arms snaked around his neck. Her fingers played with the hair at his nape, and he shivered from her gentle touch. She was kissing him for all she was worth, her tongue dancing with his, little moans sounding low in her throat. Sounds that drove him on, pushed him further as he deepened the kiss.
He searched her mouth with his tongue. Sucked her lower lip, nibbled it. Enjoying himself, enjoying her and it had been a while since he’d sought out a woman. It was his own damn fault, though. None of them seemed to ever measure up to Alexa, though he didn’t do himself any favors. He always sought out women who reminded him of her, which in hindsight was a really stupid move.
Stacy was nothing like Alexa whatsoever.
No, she’s just Alexa’s best friend, which makes me a complete dumbass for even kissing this woman, let alone contemplating how I can get her somewhere private and fuck her. Talk about a stupid move.
Pushing the irritating thought from his mind, he refocused all of his attention on the woman in his arms. How soft she felt, how sweet. Her lips were plump, delicious and her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging so hard it hurt but he didn’t mind. He’d discovered over the years he liked a little pain with his pleasure sometimes.
The more they kissed the more fired up she became, her body undulating against his, her full breasts brushing against his chest, her legs tangling with his. As if she wanted to get closer but couldn’t quite figure out how to do so. She wore a skirt. A sexy little tiered black skirt and he couldn’t help but think easy access.
“I never do this sort of thing,” she rasped when he broke the kiss to slide his lips along the tender column of her throat. Her skin was extra soft there, extra fragrant and he licked her, nibbled lightly with his teeth. Breathed deep, savoring it. Savoring her.
“Do what sort of thing?” he murmured against her neck. His hand wandered, along her side, her waist, over her hip. Tugging on the fabric of her skirt so it hitched up an inch at a time, providing him easier and easier access.
What would she do if he dived a hand beneath her panties? Slap his face? Or beg for more? Would she be wet?
He bet she’d be very wet.
“Kiss random men in an alley,” she answered, a little yelp escaping her when he nipped at her tender flesh again with his teeth.
He did that sort of thing all the damn time but not usually with a woman. “How does it feel?”
“Feel?” She sounded confused. It probably didn’t help that his hand other slid up from where it grasped her waist to close over her breast. He skittered his thumb across her, felt the unmistakable prick of a hard nipple and she gasped.
“Yeah, feel. Does it feel bad? Naughty? All sorts of wrong?” He prayed she would say all sorts of right. He knew he thought she felt right.
A jolt moved through him at the realization and he shoved the thought aside. He wanted to focus instead on getting inside this woman’s panties.
Getting inside this woman’s head.
“No, not bad. Definitely naughty but not necessarily wrong,” she answered, her breath coming even faster when he flicked his thumb back and forth, back and forth across her taut nipple. He felt the delicate lace of her bra beneath the fabric of her shirt and her nipple hardened even more from his touch. The urge to push her T-shirt up, tug her bra down and latch his mouth on her nearly overwhelmed him.
“I bet you’ve never done a naughty thing in your life.” He kissed her lips again because he couldn’t resist. A light shone down upon them, casting her in an ethereal orangey glow and her lips beckoned, damp and glistening. Swollen and tempting and damn he couldn’t stop kissing them. Licking them. Tugging on her lower lip with his teeth until she whimpered.
“You’re right,” she admitted when he released her lip, slid his hand to her other breast and gave it the same thoughtful treatment as the first one. His other hand slowly pulled up her skirt, his hand sliding beneath the fabric to touch her warm, bare thigh. Her skin was silky soft, his cock jerking in reaction to the intimate touch. She shivered beneath his fingers. “I’ve never done anything naughty. Ever.”
“Wanna do something naughty tonight?” Before she could answer, he devoured her mouth. Their tongues thrust against each other, he slipped his hand beneath the hem of her shirt and tunneled up. Up more until his fingers closed over the lacy cup of her bra, felt the bead of her nipple thrust beneath it. All the while his other hand played with the waistband of her cotton panties.
If he had his choice he’d fuck her right here, right now. He wanted her that bad.
“This is pretty naughty, don’t you think?” she asked when he finally tore his mouth from hers to stare down at her.
He smiled, knew it was full of wicked intent because he was full of wicked intent. Oh, and his hands just happened to be full of her. “I can make it a whole lot naughtier in about sixty seconds.”
She stared at him, her breath still coming fast, eyes luminous in the dim light. With the most subtle of movements he thrust his hips against hers, knew she felt the brush of his unmistakable erection because her lids lowered, her lips parted and he swore he heard her pant. “You want to…”
“Fuck you? Yeah,” he practically growled, brushing his mouth against her neck in an open-mouthed caress. She shivered beneath his lips, her hands clutched at his shoulders and he knew he had her. Triumph filled him and he was thankful he had that spare condom in his wallet.
But then her hands shoved him away and he stumbled back, releasing his grip on her as he stared at her in disbelief. She still leaned against the wall, her arms curled in front of her as if she defended herself from him, and her hair was a disheveled mess made by his hands. Wary eyes met his and she slowly shook her head. “I’m not going to let you use me.”
His mouth dropped open in shock. “This isn’t about me using you. This is about us using each other.”
“I don’t want to do that.” Her voice held a finality to it that he found shocking.
No one had ever turned him away before, with the exception of Alexa and Brad. And once he’d embarked on this new sexual journey in his life, he’d never been turned down. Ever.
“You don’t want me.” Oddly enough he was hurt at the thought.
“I didn’t say that,” she said quietly. Her gaze dropped to the ground, like she couldn’t stand to look at him any longer.
Eric thrust his fingers through his hair, then rested his hands on his hips. His dick still throbbed, the blood coursing through his veins still hummed with electricity. He was amped up, his body attuned to hers and he didn’t get her reluctance. He wanted her so bad his arms ached to grab her. His mouth ached to kiss her.
But she didn’t want him. Or wait, she said she didn’t mean it that way.
Whatever that way meant.
He should go. Just walk
away from her without a second glance and hope to God he never saw her again. He already avoided Alexa like the plague. It should be relatively easy to avoid this woman, too.
But he didn’t move. He just stood there and stared at her. Wished he could come up with something to say, but his mind drew a complete blank.
Finally, Stacy pushed away from the wall and approached him, her steps careful, her expression cautious. Her hard little nipples poked against the thin fabric of her shirt, and his chest tightened. Her legs wobbled a little bit as if she had a hard time walking, and a thread of satisfaction slid through him. He’d done that to her. He’d affected her.
And then she’d pushed him away. Made him stop.
It hurt.
She stopped just in front of him and reached out, took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze before letting it drop. “Thanks for the kiss,” she murmured, her soft voice swirling around him, vibrating within his body.
She turned and left him where he stood.
“I want a total change.” Stacy sat in the chair and stared into the mirror, meeting her friend and coworker Lisa’s gaze in the reflection. “Lots of highlights. I want to go blonder.”
Lisa ran her fingers through the ends of Stacy’s hair, her gaze trained on Stacy’s. “I thought you were giving up on being blonde. We’ve taken you a few shades darker every time.”
“I gave up on being blonde because Keith didn’t like it. Well, screw him.” Lisa’s mouth dropped open at Stacy’s words, and Stacy wanted to roll her eyes. Didn’t even bother mentioning what she’d done two nights ago in a darkened alley not far from a bar. It would’ve, quite frankly, shocked the shit out of Lisa.
How she had walked away from that moment, walked away from him, she didn’t have a clue.
“Okay. Let me go mix up some color, and I’ll be back.” Lisa patted her shoulder and headed toward the color mixing area.
They both worked at a hair salon, their booths were right next to each other and they did each other’s hair. They were also good friends. Keith got Lisa’s husband Todd a job and the two men worked together as well.
Which made for a bit of awkwardness between the two now, but Stacy knew they could overcome it.
That was the reason she couldn’t tell Lisa about her experience with Eric in the alley. She couldn’t take the risk that Keith might find out because damn it, it was none of his business.
Really, she couldn’t tell anyone. She had her work friends, but again, she didn’t want Lisa to know about it. And she couldn’t tell her best friend because well, her best friend used to go out with Eric. Had a sort of relationship with Eric and Eric’s boyfriend, which Stacy had found strange and twisted and sick and she’d felt so judgmental at the time when Alexa told her. Thinking Alexa was crazy for embarking on a relationship with not just one but two men.
Not that Stacy had any room to talk. Not with her panty-wearing, eventual cross-dressing boyfriend she was trying to push into marriage. She’d been so desperate to be married she would’ve done anything. Including convincing herself Keith would make the perfect husband for her.
He might make someone a perfect husband—or perhaps wife if he went through the sex change thing. But he certainly wasn’t going to make her a perfect anything.
Stacy grabbed a tabloid magazine and flipped through it but the bits of celebrity gossip didn’t distract her. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Eric. The way he slammed her against that wall and pinned her there with his big, sexy body. His mouth on hers, delicious and decadent and making her head spin as his tongue swept against hers. How he’d touched her breasts, caressed her thigh, said such wicked things. It would’ve been so easy to give in. To say yes and let him flip her skirt up, tear her panties off and take her right there against that rough brick wall, it would’ve been good. She knew that without a doubt.
But she’d stopped him because she didn’t want to be used. No matter how much she would’ve used him right back she couldn’t let it happen. She had too much respect for herself to give in. Yes, it would’ve been amazing but she’d rather feel good about herself than experiencing amazing, mind-blowing sex for one stolen night.
Stacy slapped the magazine shut and closed her eyes, hung her head. She was a damn fool. She totally should’ve jumped at the chance to have amazing, mind-blowing sex with a man she’d most likely never see again. Right there in an alley where anyone could walk up on them, where anyone could see them. Just to say that she did it.
She’d let him slip through her fingers, and now she regretted it. See what being a good girl got her?
Absolutely nothing but sweet, hot memories of fevered kisses and stolen touches. A few blissful moments that amounted to the hottest sexual experience of her life. And they hadn’t even had sex.
Crazy.
Lisa came back in minutes and began applying the color and the foils, chattering all the while. Stacy nodded and answered where she was supposed to, still too distracted to really pay attention to exactly what Lisa was saying. She loved her friend, really she did, but she knew Lisa was uncomfortable with the stuff that just happened between her and Keith. The fact that he’d declared himself a cross-dressing gay dude worried her.
Not that Stacy blamed her. His revelation had done something to her too. Like ruin her life for a few days until she realized it was better to find out now rather than a few years down the line. When they possibly could’ve been married and had children.
“Todd talked to Keith,” Lisa said once she was finished, as she cleaned up the small mess she’d made.
“Oh?” Stacy kept her voice deliberately nonchalant. She didn’t want to hear what Lisa had to say about Keith. Not at all.
“He feels really bad about what happened.” Lisa paused, her gaze meeting Stacy’s once again in the mirror. “He told Todd you wouldn’t take his calls.”
“I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t think there’s anything left to say.” Stacy shrugged her shoulders, heard the foil crinkle against her neck. She hated this part, sitting around with the color on her head, waiting while it set.
“You guys went out for almost two years. You really believe there’s nothing left to say?”
Stacy threw the umpteenth magazine she’d been flipping through onto the counter in front of her. “Lisa. We broke up. He’s not interested in me. I gave him back his ring, I cried a little bit, and now I’m done. End of story.”
“Is it really that simple? I mean, aren’t you still hurting over what happened? I would be devastated if Todd did that to me.” Lisa shook her head.
“I really don’t want to talk about this right now. I’m trying to move on,” Stacy said firmly.
“But…”
“I mean it,” Stacy interrupted. She offered Lisa a smile. She knew her friend meant well, but she didn’t want to dwell over the breakup. There wasn’t any point to it. “I appreciate your concern, but it, uh, will start to upset me if we talk about it too much.”
“Oh. Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Stacy. I just—I wanted you to know if you need anything, want to talk, whatever, I’m here for you. I mean, I know I’ve already said that, but I just wanted to tell you again. Todd and I, we worry about you. You’re our friend.”
“That means a lot to me, your offer. Really it does.” Stacy reached out and grabbed her friend’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thanks for being such a good friend.”
Stacy watched as Lisa went to the back, then heaved a quiet sigh of relief. She was so sick and tired talking about Keith. Reiterating everything that happened two weeks ago now. Yeah, it wasn’t that long ago, but she couldn’t linger over it. It was pointless.
If she was being completely honest she had to admit their relationship had hit a rocky point probably a year ago. Even before she discovered him in her underwear. She’d pushed for the engagement because she was afraid of being alone. He’d gone along but she’d felt an undercurrent of reluctance. And just as soon as he slipped that ring on her finger, they’d grown even
more distant. To the point where she rarely saw him.
Because he was too busy living a completely different life that didn’t involve her.
The receptionist hurried toward her, a confused expression on her face. “There’s someone here to see you.”
“Who?” The only reason she had Lisa do her hair was because they both had a free two hours. She had an appointment at five but it was a quick haircut and it was only three-thirty. No way had he shown up yet.
“Some guy, I have no clue who he is. Said he wanted you to cut his hair.”
“Did you tell him I was unavailable?”
“He insists on seeing you.” The receptionist bit her lower lip nervously. “I didn’t book an appointment on accident, I swear. I have no idea who this guy is.”
Stacy reached up and touched her hair. She looked like a freak. “I’m not about to go out there and talk to him. I mean, look at me. Tell him to make an appointment and come back then.”
“I’ll try,” the receptionist said with a forlorn sigh as she turned and headed back toward the front of the salon.
And that’s when Stacy saw him. That hard, lean body propped against the front counter of the reception area, looking as gorgeous as he pleased. Even better in daylight, she couldn’t help but think, wearing perfectly worn jeans and a white T-shirt that clung to his muscular chest. His hair was stylishly spiked up just at the front, his mouth curved into a charming smile as he spoke to the poor, dumbstruck receptionist and then his gaze lifted. Met hers and his smile grew.
Just like that, her panties did that strange melting thing again and the air lodged in her throat. She glanced around in a panic as he started toward her, wishing there was somewhere she could hide but it was no use.
He was too close, and she looked way too ridiculous.
“I thought you did hair.” He stopped just in front of her chair. “Looks like you’re getting your hair done.”
Notorious: Playing With Fire, Book 4 Page 2
