by Darcy Burke
“It looks like a high-school dance. All except the champagne chilling next to the table.” Assuming that was champagne and not sparkling cider. “I’ll be really disappointed if that’s some lame nonalcoholic beverage.”
She laughed. “It’s not.”
“How did you do this?” He shook his head and turned toward her. “No, why did you do this?”
“You said you never went to prom. I did, and mine was stupid. I barely stayed fifteen minutes. I thought we both deserved a nice memory of something we hadn’t done. Something we could share together.”
He couldn’t come up with words at all. No one had ever done anything like this for him. Oh, fuck words anyway. They were completely overrated. He clasped her waist and drew her hard and fast against him, his mouth sweeping down to claim hers. He poured all of the things he couldn’t think to say into the kiss, thanking her, appreciating her, loving her.
Loving her?
Is this what love felt like? He didn’t know, but he didn’t want the feeling to end.
She stretched her body against his and curled her fingers into his nape, tugging on his hair and meeting the thrust of his tongue with hard, delicious strokes. She moved her hands forward and cupped his face before pulling back. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving. But not for food.”
“Later. There’s dinner, and we have to dance. It is a dance, after all.”
He’d been so focused on all the visuals that he’d missed the music piping through the sound system. He wasn’t certain of the song, but it was Kelly Clarkson, and it was definitely from his high-school era. “You thought of everything, even the music. I’m pretty sure this is from my senior year.”
“Yep. I graduated two years ahead of you, so the playlist spans a few years.” She took his hand again and led him to the table.
“That’s right. I’m dating an older woman. But I guess that’s my MO.”
She looked at him over her bare shoulder. Damn, that was one sexy dress. “I thought you hadn’t really dated anyone before.”
Her tone seemed playful—at least he thought so. He was beginning to read her the way he was able to read his family. “True. But I typically only hang with older women. I hadn’t put that together until now.” Michelle was in her early thirties, and the girl he’d hooked up with in college had been a grad student who’d also been on the spectrum.
She laughed softly. “It’s good to know my age is working for me in some way.”
They arrived at the table, and he held out her chair, then gently scooted her forward. “What do you mean?”
The wine had already been uncorked—someone or maybe several someones had to be working behind the scenes here—so he pulled it from the ice bucket and filled the flutes on the table. He looked at the label and recognized it as one of the best sparkling wines from Oregon. “Great choice,” he said.
“It came highly recommended. To answer your question, I meant that my age isn’t usually my best selling point at this stage of my career. I’m past the ingénue period, and right now Hollywood can’t figure out what to do with me.”
“Hollywood is stupid. I know exactly what to do with you.”
She arched a brow at him as she picked up her glass. “What’s that?”
“In keeping with the Hollywood theme, do you want the PG version or the R-rated one?”
“Definitely R, and maybe later you can show me X.” She lifted her glass. “To X-rated fantasies coming true.”
He stared at her mouth and came up with about fifty new fantasies right there.
“Aren’t you going to drink?” she asked.
He swiped up his glass and took a long swig, barely tasting it.
The music switched to “This Love” by Maroon 5. He tapped his foot. “I still have this on rotation on my iPod.”
“I love Maroon 5. Adam is the nicest guy—funny, too.”
“You know Adam Levine? Of course you do. You met Leonard Nimoy, for crying out loud.”
She nodded. “Guilty. It’s weird, right? But we’re just normal people.” She pulled the lid off her plate to reveal ribeye steak with a loaded baked potato and steamed veggies. “Hope you like dinner.”
He set his lid aside, and his stomach growled. “I forgot to eat lunch. This is my favorite meal.”
She grinned. “I know.”
He picked up his utensils and cut into his perfectly prepared steak. “How’d you pull all this off?”
“I had help—Sara mostly—with the setup and decorations and all that.”
“Makes sense, since that’s what she does.”
“Kyle had a friend of his make the dinner in the school kitchen, if you can believe that.”
“I can’t. I can’t believe you got the school to cooperate.” He took a bite of steak—it was so damn good. A thought occurred to him as he swallowed. “You did get the school to cooperate, right?”
She laughed between bites of dinner. “Yes. We’re here on the up and up, I promise. Sara helped me work it out with the school district, though I’m kind of cheating with the champagne, so don’t tell anyone. We have full access to the gym.” She lowered her voice. “Although, that doesn’t mean we can’t go exploring if you want to show me around.”
“I honestly can’t think of why I’d do that. High school doesn’t hold fond memories for me.”
Her brow furrowed, and she took a drink of wine. “I’m sorry. Was it that bad?”
“It wasn’t bad or good. It just was. I got through it, thanks to my brothers and sisters. But I wasn’t into it like they were. Kyle was quarterback. Liam was student-body president and track star. Tori ran the yearbook and started a girls engineering club.”
“What about Sara and Alex?”
“They were more like me, though Sara sang in the choir and had a few parts in the musicals. And it’s not that I did nothing. I was in the engineering club and the chess club. I played basketball my freshman year, but I didn’t like it enough to continue, much to the coach’s disappointment.”
“I bet. Were you this tall back then?”
He nodded. “Six-one by the time I hit ninth grade. I towered over most other guys. Which only made me feel more awkward.”
She reached across the table and touched his hand. “I hate that you felt awkward.”
“Didn’t everyone?” He’d forgotten who he was talking to. “Scratch that. I’m pretty sure you’ve never had an awkward day in your life.”
She made a sound like a game-show buzzer. “Wrong.” She took a bite of potato and washed it back with some water. “I was tall for my age, too, and, uh, endowed.”
His gaze dropped to her breasts, which he knew firsthand to be absolutely magnificent. “How is that awkward? You were probably the most popular girl in school.”
“Not quite, but anyway, for the wrong reasons. Girls don’t want to be known for their boobs or any other physical attribute.” She sounded irritated.
“Sorry, I didn’t think about it like that, but I get it.” He scooped up a spoonful of potato. “So you felt weird?”
“I didn’t like receiving attention for something I had no control over and about which I felt incredibly uncomfortable.”
He set his spoon down and stared at her. “That’s how I felt to a T.”
Her features relaxed, and she smiled softly. “I thought you might understand.”
Beyoncé blasted over the speakers as they finished up their meals. “This is really incredible,” he said. “Do you want more wine?”
“Sure.” She held up her glass for him to pour. “Sorry there isn’t anyone serving us. I preferred us to be alone.”
So they could be especially naughty in the high school if they wanted. He’d heard stories about people having sex in the orchestra pit under the stage in the auditorium and was pretty sure Liam had been one of them. He slid Alaina a glance, wondering if she’d be game. But she looked so beautiful, so perfect, like a decorated dessert you hated to ruin by eating. He didn’t want to
mess her up. He just wanted to stare at her all night.
God, if he said any of this nonsense out loud, she’d think he was the biggest tool. Thank God he’d learned to keep his mouth shut from time to time.
A slower song came on, and she scooted back in her chair. “Come on, it’s dancing time.”
He hadn’t quite finished his dinner, but he didn’t care. He’d meant it when he’d said he wasn’t starving for food.
She twined her fingers through his and led him to the disco ball. It spun slowly, raining glistening lights over the walls and floor.
He circled his arm around her waist. “This is where I tell you I’ve never danced in my life.”
Her jaw dropped. “No way.”
“Way. Do I take your hand?”
“You can, or we can do it old school and I’ll just put my arms around your neck like this.” Her breasts pressed against his chest in this position, and their hips were separated by a mere inch.
He put his other hand around her waist and pulled her closer to eliminate that inch. “I think I prefer old school.”
She tipped her hips back and forth to the slow reggae beat. Her pelvis ground lightly against his, coaxing his cock to full attention.
“If you don’t stop that, we’re going to be doing something other than dancing,” he said.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Things we probably shouldn’t do in a high school.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure it’s all been done before.” She pulled his head down and kissed him.
When they came up for air a moment later, he was painfully aware of his raging erection and the feel of her ass in his hands.
“We already had the champagne, which we weren’t supposed to do.” She giggled. “I suppose we could find . . . someplace. Although, I have a pretty killer after-party planned.”
“Now. Let’s go now.”
“But this is your dance!” The music changed and sped up a bit. She held on to his neck and tipped her head back. “We should stay awhile.”
He leaned forward and nuzzled her neck before kissing along her collarbone to her bare shoulder. “God you taste amazing.”
She sighed as she dug her fingers into his neck. “Evan.”
“We’re not staying. Tell me the driver’s waiting outside.” He licked her flesh and kissed her.
“He is.”
“And tell me we don’t have to worry about anything here.” He brought his hand up her back and around her rib cage to cup her breast through the dress.
“We don’t.”
“Now tell me your after-party is close.” He flicked his thumb over her nipple and licked along her collarbone.
“Uh . . . ”
He nipped at her, eliciting a gasp from her throat and pressure on his neck from her hands. “Wrong answer,” he said just before he kissed her savagely, driving his tongue into her mouth. She clutched at his hair and kissed him back, meeting his intensity with her own.
He abruptly pulled away and strode to the table. He downed the rest of both of their wine, clinked the glasses together between his fingers, and picked up the bottle. “I assume there’s one of these—” he gestured to the ice bucket “—in the limo?”
“Probably.”
“Good.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door. “Because I want this to stay nice and cold before I drink it from your navel.”
Chapter Sixteen
AS SOON AS they were ensconced in the back of the limo, Evan pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. His cock was hard and thick beneath her ass, and now she was cursing the proximity of her stupid after-party. It was back in Ribbon Ridge—just outside actually—but the wait to get there would be worth it.
She ran her hands down the lapel of his black jacket and pulled back, pushing against his chest. He looked so hot tonight in a black shirt and the black jacket. The look was very Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock Holmes. In a word: scrumptious.
“Any chance we can torture ourselves and wait until we get to our destination?” she asked.
“You’re evil,” he said. “I need more wine if you’re going to expect me to be patient.”
She slid from his lap and poured wine into a flute and handed it to him. “It’ll be worth it. I promise.”
Even though he wasn’t looking right at her, his gaze smoldered nonetheless. “I don’t doubt it.”
“Could you look at me for just a second?” He did as she asked, and she felt the brunt of that smolder. Heat bloomed between her thighs, and she was sorely tempted to throw her plans out the window. “Never mind. Look away now. Please.”
He laughed, and it was deep and throaty. Utterly sexy, and unlike any sound he’d ever made. He seemed to have reached a new level of comfort with her tonight. She’d never seen him so self-assured, so loose.
“The one time I look directly at you, and you can’t handle it. Maybe there’s a reason I suck at eye contact.”
“What, you don’t know the power of your own fuck-me eyes?” She couldn’t contain her laughter over the absolute absurdity of this conversation.
“Maybe. I actually like that. I can’t look directly at people without them falling in thrall.”
She had to put the bottle back in the bucket before she spilled it because she was laughing so hard.
He took her glass. “Let me.”
“Oh, screw it.” She snatched the empty glass from his hand and dropped it to the floor. Then she snaked her hands around his neck and pushed him back against the seat. She hiked up her skirt and straddled his thighs, grinding her pelvis down against his. He clasped her waist and held her tight as he arched up, pressing his cock into her heat.
She nipped his lower lip as she left his mouth and moved down to his neck, where she kissed and licked at him. He smelled fabulous. He was wearing cologne, which was a first in her experience with him. It only added to his off-the-charts fuckability factor tonight.
“Fuckability factor?” he asked.
“Did I say that out loud?” she muttered against his flesh as she flicked open the topmost closed button on his shirt. She traveled to the next one and pushed the cotton apart to expose his delicious chest. “You are so hot. Why do you not have women drooling after you in long swathes?”
“What, like some pied piper of sex?”
“Dude, you’re on a roll.” She opened her mouth and kissed his flesh, dragging her tongue in a wide whirl.
“Holy shit, Alaina. If you don’t knock that off, we’re having the after-party right here.”
“I decided I’m impatient.” She lifted her head and kissed him again, mouth open and greedy.
He emitted a low, primal grunt from deep in his throat just before he thrust his hands up under the hem of her dress and pushed it up to her waist. His fingers dug into her hips and ass as he kneaded her flesh. They ground against each other in helpless abandon.
He sucked on her tongue and slipped his hands into her underwear until he palmed her bare ass. Damn, this was not the slow, romantic seduction she’d planned.
She ripped her mouth from his and flung herself backward, landing on the rear-facing seat. She wiped the edge of her mouth, panting from their kisses and her excitement.
“Why did you stop?” The question was husky and low, full of masculine demand.
She pulled her dress down, shimmying her hips to help it descend. “We’ll be there in a minute.” Please drive faster, she mentally urged the driver.
“Where are we going?”
“Ribbon Ridge-ish.”
“That’s not terribly helpful. I’d like to know how long you expect me to suffer this agony.”
She looked at the bulge in his pants and licked her lips.
“Alaina,” he growled. “Stop looking at me like that and licking your damned lips.”
She turned and knocked on the glass separating them from the driver. It slowly descended. “Hi. How long until we arrive?”
He glanced at the navigation sy
stem in the dash. “Five minutes.”
“Thank you,” she said sweetly, and the glass went back up.
Evan tossed back his wine. “That’s an eternity.” He leaned forward and poured more into the glass, but she took it from him before he could drink.
“I need a hit of this, sorry.” She downed what he’d poured and went for the bottle again.
“Hey, I need some of that for later.”
She gave him a saucy look. “There’s more of it where we’re going.”
At last, the limo started climbing.
“We’re going to the monastery,” he said.
“The Ridgeview, actually. And more accurately, the upstairs suite.”
“You thought of absolutely everything.”
“I hope so.” She’d started planning it several days ago—the prom part. And after touring the Ridgeview with Sara, the after-party had taken shape.
The limo pulled into the dirt and gravel lot and then took them down the lane to the cottage. A moment later, the driver opened the door. Evan nabbed the nearly empty wine bottle and jumped out, then held out his hand for her. She grasped it, and the electrical current of lust nearly made her stumble.
“Will there be anything else?” the driver asked.
“No, thank you.” Alaina had already taken care of paying him, including tip.
Evan pulled her next to him. “How are we getting home?”
She didn’t intend to leave until the morning but wasn’t going to say that. She hoped to get him to sleep with her, but she didn’t want to scare him off. “Your car’s over there.” She pointed to the other side of the lane.
The driver nodded at them and then got back into the limo. Alaina turned to Evan. “Sara left a key under the mat.”
“She knew we were coming here?”
“Yes, does that bother you?”
