First Date - [Bridesmaid's Chronicles 01]

by Karen Kendall

  His heartbeat filled her ear and told her, without a word, anything and everything she'd ever wanted to hear.

  "See, you're an expert." His voice vibrated against her.

  She looked up at him. "An expert?"

  "At the Texas Two-step. You're doin' it right now, and you didn't even realize. See how easy it is?"

  Of course the moment she thought about it, she lost the rhythm, making him laugh. "No, no. Don't concentrate. Just enjoy."

  He pulled her close again, and his hips kissed her tummy, sending shock waves through her as the ridge at his groin sent a clear message. His hand on her back slid a little lower, until just his little finger brushed the bare skin under the low-rise waistband of her jeans. Just the slight, feathery movement made her ache with want.

  His other fingers began to play along her spine in time to the music, and Syd breathed him in again. She knew a longing to feel his bare skin, toojust run her hand up under his shirt and along his back.

  Evidently the band was partial to her coloring, because they segued into another song: "Redheaded woman."

  "It takes a redheaded woman to get a dirty job done . . Oh, sweet Mama, you were built for havin' fun"

  Alex threw back his head and laughed at her expression as the lyrics got steamier. Then his hands were in her hair and he kissed her full on the mouth. She melted on the spot, feeling his tongue possess her and pluck secret strings deep inside. He was one hundred percent hot, Texas, turned-on male, and she still couldn't quite believe that she had done the turning-on.

  But somehow she had, because there was no mistaking that denim-covered ridge hard against her stomach. And that wicked pinky of his plunged a little lower until it just barely caressed her tailbone and whispered of intent to go lower.

  He made love thoroughly to her mouth with his, while her nipples pebbled against his chest and the silk against them became sweet torment. What would it feel like if his mouth were on those peaks?

  Alex broke the kiss with a quick, playful nip at her bottom lip and caressed her jaw, hands then moving back into her hair and awakening every nerve ending in her neck and scalp. She shivered and the sensation crested between her thighs.

  "We'd better go back to dancing, Jersey," he said in a thick voice. "Unless you want to be taken on a picnic table, with an audience."

  The idea shocked and yet aroused her. Then she was immediately ashamed of the arousal. What was she, some kind of closet pervert? She tried to pull away, but Alex's hands settled firmly on her shoulders and his gaze was intent. Then he bent his head to her ear.

  "That," he said with certainty, "excited you."

  Startled, she shook her head and again tried to back away.

  "Yes, it did," he purred. "You've got a little twist in you, don't you, darlin'? I like that."

  Fire seared her neck, cheeks and ears. She opened her mouth to deny everything he'd ever seen about her and tell him he was wrong, wrong, wrong. But he ate the words from between her lips before she'd formed more than a squeak. He stroked her tongue and licked around the words and then swallowed them whole.

  His perception burned her as much as the rough whisker stubble around his clever, seeking mouth.

  But as much as she felt distress at what he saw, she also felt an odd joy that someone could read her. That he could read her.

  "It's okay, Jersey. I've got a few fantasies of my own. And one of them involves you not wearing a stitch of lingerie under your outfit. How does it feel to be a walking fantasy, hmmmm?"

  She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. He pinned her with his dark eyes and caught his top lip between his teeth. Then he reached around her for their beer and held her bottle to her lips. She drank the entire thing without breaking eye contact or stopping for air.

  Outside the breeze blew balmy under a lazy Texas moon, and an orchestra of cicadas hummed and chirruped while gravel crunched under the heels of couples exiting Gruene Hall.

  Syd allowed Alex to back her up against a convenient oak tree that hid them from view, and he hungrily took possession of her mouth again. His beard stubble scraped her face, while tree bark scraped her back. She exclaimed as a knot dug into her flesh and he made a rough noise of apology, turning them so that he leaned against the oak's trunk. He slid a hand down her bare spine, caressing her, and then turned her so that he could see the injury, which he kissed. A deep tremor ran through her as his lips moved from the sore spot up to her bare shoulder, trailing fire along her skin. He made gentle love to the nape of her neck, holding her hair aside, and a small moan of pleasure escaped her. His warm breath sang along her nerve endings and his lips on her ear sent delicious shivers eddying through her.

  She turned to face him again and met his lips, now doing some exploring of her own. She tasted his skin and touched her tongue to the rough stubble on his cheeks and chin. She teased his ear with the tip and felt his arms tighten around her. He separated her knees with one of his, propped the heel of his boot against the oak, and pulled her up, astride his muscular thigh.

  One hand at the small of her back, he used the other to cup one of her breasts through the thin silk of her top, and rubbed a thumb lightly over her nipple. She gasped involuntarily and her thighs instinctively clenched around his. He smiled in satisfaction, passing a big, warm palm over both breasts and melting her sensually. He bent his head and closed his mouth over one nipple while she let out a low whimper of pleasure. The heat, the wetness, the suction of him she hummed with need. He simply pushed the scrap of Pucci away from her other breast, and took it naked between his lips, torturing and teasing with his tongue until she could barely remember what her name was.

  Another couple came stumbling out the dance hall's door, passing close to them and forcing them both to their senses. Alex quickly raised his head and tweaked her top back into position. He set her on her feet and looked down into her eyes, his expression rueful.

  "Jersey, I don't suppose you'd believe that I have a flat tire, or that I'm too drunk to drive?"

  She fingered a couple of his shirt buttons, wanting to just rip the garment off and throw it in the bushes. "Depends on how skilled a liar you are." She smiled in the darkness.

  He found her mouth again. When he raised his head, he presented another option. "I've been thinking about it since I picked you up. But I thought, she's pretty smart. She might see through either one of those fibs. So then I figured that if worse came to worst, 1 could walk right into a low-hangin' beam in there and give myself a good concussion."

  She laughed.

  "I mean, you're not heartless, after all. You wouldn't force a gravely injured man to drive you a long distance back home, now would you?"

  "No, of course not. I'd just have to take his keys and drive him ."

  "Well, see, that's where the buckets of tequila were gonna come in. I'd buy you so many 'ritas that your blood would run green."

  "That's a pretty dastardly plot."

  "There's some awfully nice places to stay around here, Jersey. Bet you'd enjoy the Prince Solms Inn of

  New Braunfels, or Accents of Gruene, or if you want a spectacular view, the Lodge at Turkey Cove on Canyon Lake."

  He stood waiting for her agreement, this tall, powerful dream of a guy whose shoulders blocked the moon from her view. He wanted to take her, Sydney Spinelli, to bed. He probably knew that he could just sweep her along with the force of his personality and her desire, but he wanted a clear-headed decision on her part. She could eat him whole like a giant Godiva truffle.

  Those dark chocolate eyes gleamed with humor and sensuality, but not a single promise of anything other than a good time tonight. Whatever else he might be, Alex Kimball was no liar.

  The question was whether or not she was prepared, for the first and only time in her life, to have a one-night stand. Syd had never been able to eat just one truffle and sensibly push the rest away.

  But as she stood there thinking about it, a new attitude swept over her. So she'd waited at leas
t a month to sleep with a select few men over and over again until they began to treat her badly or bored her stiff. Had the smug exercise in morality given her satisfaction in any way? Had it given her multiple orgasms?

  Live a little, Julia had said.

  Maybe the Cavalli jeans made her shameless. Maybe she had a crazy, tequila-born urge to fill Kiki's boots with a vengeance. Maybe she didn't care since she didn't live in Fredericksburg and wouldn't hear any hurtful gossip.

  But she couldn't not take her one chance to sleep with Alex Kimball.

  C/mpter Seventeen

  After a simple cell phone call to make a reservation, Alex took her to the closest bed-and-breakfast he could think of: Accents of Gruene. It was an intimate and charming little house of white Texas limestone, nestled among five acres of choice Texas Hill Country.

  Alex rented the entire extra cottage on the property for complete privacy, and Sydney exclaimed over the gorgeous king-sized four-poster bed and the enormous Jacuzzi tub.

  He shut the door, locked it and threw off his shirt, walking in just his jeans and boots to the tub. Her mouth went dry at the sight of his naked torso, those broad shoulders tapering into a beautifully defined, lightly furred chest and a lean, flat stomach. His skin gleamed golden in the low lamplight and she swallowed as her gaze swept down to the waistband of his faded, well-worn jeans. They rode low on his hips and sat snug, tantalizing her by molding exactly to what lay beneath. A long, solid bulge curved close to the left front pocket, and it grew under her gaze.

  Alex leaned against the vanity and crossed his muscular arms over his delicious chest, spoiling her view. "You gonna return the favor?" he asked softly. "Or do I get to untie that criminal little scrap of fabric you're wearing?"

  She walked to him, lifted her hair and presented her back. He untied the knot behind her rib cage, trailing his fingers over her heated skin. She shivered, goose bumps rising on her arms, and her nipples sprang to attention. The little piece of silk hung between her breasts, still dangling from her neck.

  Alex made quick work of that knot, too, and the halter fell to the ground. She stood motionless with her back to him, still lifting her hair and clad in nothing but jeans and boots herself.

  "My God," he breathed. "The lines of your body are so beautiful." He reached a hand out and caressed the contour of a breast, tracing it with wonder.

  She let the hair cascade down her back again and felt his fingers in it. And then they moved to her waist and curled around to her belly. He pulled her back against him and she felt his erection clearly nudging the base of her spine.

  Imprisoned by his arms, Sydney savored the feeling of his smooth, warm skin against her. The fur of his chest tickled between her shoulder blades as he buried his nose in her hair, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

  He stroked her belly, brushed along her ribs, and finally moved up to cup her bare breasts. She let her head fall back onto his chest and gave in to the pleasure of his circling, seeking, kneading fingers. His palms covered the small mounds completely, dwarfing them. But for the first time in her life Syd didn't feel inadequate, because he seemed so happy with them.

  He knew just what to do, just how to touch them: sliding her nipples along the canals between his fingers until they kissed the junctures between them; pinching lightly, rolling them under his thumbs. Her breath began to come faster and catch in her throat, and he let out a contented hum, bending his head over her shoulder to watch, scrubbing her cheek and ear with that lethal stubble once again.

  She arched her back and Alex slipped his knee between her thighs again, rocking her slightly and forcing her legs wider.

  He abandoned one breast, still toying with the other, and his hand dipped down into the front of her jeans, stroking the skin between her hip bones and smoothing through the top of her hidden curls. He groaned. "I knew it from the moment I watched you step into the truck. Not a stitch, Jersey. Not a stitch. Do you know you were killing me all night?"

  She shook her head but savored the words. He'd really been wanting her for hours. Her .

  He played in the curls and she squirmed, so desperate for him to go lower that when he did, touching her most sensitive spot with only a finger, she made an unintelligible whimper. He rubbed and circled until she thought she'd die, then plunged a finger inside her. But the skintight Cavallis would only stretch so far. He slid his hand out and fumbled for a moment with the leather lacing at her waist.

  She went for the side lacing and together they achieved a puddle of denim within seconds.

  His hands moved over her naked hips and buttocks, traced the cleft and the private smile lines where they met her thighs. She felt his teeth nip her shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her, as if to say Mine .

  " I just want to eat you up, Beautiful." And he turned her to face him, giving her body a long, appreciative perusal.

  She felt self-conscious as his gaze went to the juncture of her thighs, and she pressed her knees together. His response was a torrid, outlaw smile. Then he licked his lips.

  He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply, while working his magic again on her breasts. She reached out a tentative hand and touched the impressive bulge in his jeans. His hand covered hers and clenched her fingers around it, then moved them to his fly.

  Sydney undid the top button, then the next and the next, almost holding her breath. He sprang more or less free, though still hidden by the fabric of his boxers. She tugged them down and he broke the kiss to help her. He was heavy and thick in her hand, and beyond aroused. She fingered him with wonder and then looked up into his half-lidded eyes. "You need a third boot," she teased.

  He grabbed her and set her on the marble countertop, which was cold, cold, cold under her backside. He spread her thighs and rubbed himself against her, his tongue caught between his teeth and his hands firm against her bottom.

  She rocked against him, the wet heat at her core an erotic contrast to the chilly, dry marble under her. He teased her mercilessly until she felt wild and got uncharacteristically aggressive, hauling him by the hips until he slid, inch by inch, inside her.

  The fullness in itself was erotic, and she paused to savor it. Then Alex moved within, slid and stirred, and she was lost, a slick, hot rider with no earthly destination.

  After a minute or two, he pulled out of her with a groan, and she mumbled an incoherent protest. He smoothed the tumbled hair from her face and grinned down at her. "I know, but it's necessary, darlin'. First of all, I'm not going to last another thirty seconds at this rate, and then there's the fact that we need a condom."

  The word blew away the sensual fog in her mind and her eyes widened. She'd just let him inside her without onewas she crazy ? Was she born this stupid, or had the tequila killed off all her brain cells? Hadn't she just made her own sister take a pregnancy test?

  She flushed, hopped off the counter and shook her head in disbelief. Alex tipped up her chin and kissed her nose. "See," he said, "I can't have you, too, spreading it all over town that I'm a dud in the sack." He fished his wallet out of his jeans and pulled from it a foil packet.

  She dredged up a voice somehow. "Too late. Unless you wanna pay me to keep my mouth shut?"

  He strode back to her. "No, Jersey," he said in husky tones, "but I'll pay you to keep it open." He kissed her and pressed the packet into her hands. When he pulled away he frowned at her and shook a finger. "Did I give you permission to get down from there?"

  She squeaked as he picked her up again and set her back onto the cold marble. "Now, be good." He bent his head to her nipples and playfully bit one as he spread her legs and then knelt between them.

  "What are you doing ?"

  "Hush."

  "You can't"she clutched at his hair"oh, my God!" Rough bristle abraded her thighs and he played her expertly like a flute while she panted and whimpered, helpless under the assault of such pleasure. A final foray with his tongue left her poised on the brink of explosive climax, but he pulled away and then entered her ful
ly sheathed. She'd dropped the condom somehow and he had to be a magician to have gotten it on, but he had.

  He pulsed within her now, trying to restrain himself and not unleash his full power on her smaller frame. He slid in and out, perspiration filling his brow and trickling down at his temples. She was actually making the man sweat.

  He picked her up bodily, the level of the counter all wrong for his height, and moved her back and forth along the length of him. The sensations within her, the hot, wet friction and the sight of his corded, muscled arms completely supporting her finally built to a peak, and she came apart with a cry. She disintegrated into a thousand particles of moonlight, and with a sound half growl and half shout, he came with her.

  Alex sat in the oversized Jacuzzi tub with her later. She lay between his thighs, her hands draped over his knees, and he played with her beautiful, copper bronze hair. He started to count the freckles on her pale skin, and had gotten as far as number thirty-nine when she reached back and tugged on his tool. "Don't make fun," she said. "There's a whole galaxy of them back there."

  "I wasn't making fun," he told her. "I happen to love every single one of these freckles. And you'd better not pull on that, 'cause you'll get yourself in trouble."

  "What, this?" She tugged again. "I'm not sure what it's good for." It swelled and hardened in her hand.

  "You're not, huh?" he growled. He yanked her hips back until she was sitting on it, breathless and laughing.

  "It's good for this," he said, sliding into her tight, wet heat a little ways. "And this" He slid out. "And this" He plunged to the hilt, ground against her backside, and commandeered her breasts. She felt indescribably good.

  "Oh, is that all," said Syd, around a moan.

  "Nope." He lifted her off and turned her to face him. Then he pulled her down so that she straddled him and took her that way. "It's good for this, too" While she rose up and down, he rubbed her intimately with his thumbs until she melted over him like warm butter.