ChampagneCravings

by Ava McKnight

  “I’ve had a weird evening. You caught me off guard during a moment of weakness,” I reasoned, though it was a crappy defense, especially with my heart pounding so loud I was certain he could hear it.

  “I know your past haunts you in a lot of different ways. And I’m always here when you need me. All I’m asking for now is to just…test the waters with me.” His lips brushed over mine. A whisper of a kiss. A mere hint of one. But I felt its effects to the very depths of my soul. Yeah, I was nuts about this guy. The precise reason I’d avoided situations such as this in the past. We’d arrived at this point, anyway, regardless of my previous efforts to maintain an even keel with him.

  Perhaps I’d had too much champagne at the Montlimiere. Maybe three years without sex, and three years of living next door to the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on—who wanted me—along with being aroused by a supermodel whose plastered-to-her-body dress had revealed a figure worth fantasizing about even if you weren’t a lesbian, bisexual or even the tiniest bit interested in women were impossible-to-deny catalysts. I didn’t know. But when Mike gravitated toward me so his chest, now covered with a black T-shirt that pulled tight against his muscles, pressed to my breasts, I ignored many of the reasons I’d fought this attraction for so long.

  A sigh of yearning escaped my parted lips as he nibbled the corner of my mouth and then engaged me in soft kisses that didn’t involve tongue but had our lips twisting together as we teased each other. My eyelids fluttered closed again and hot lava flowed through every inch of me. My inner thighs quivered and my pussy clenched and released as though trying to grasp something that wasn’t there. Something that hadn’t been there in so very long. Something that could be there, if only I’d utter that one magical word that would release me from my terrified-to-be-played-again captivity.

  Yes.

  There it was. The word. It danced through my mind, taunting me. It lingered on my tongue, tempting me.

  But I kept my mouth shut. Well, not literally, because Mike’s tongue finally slipped past my parted lips and delved deep. His kiss was nothing short of electric. Slow. Hot. Deep. Wet. Hot. Oh wait. I’d said that already. But okay, yeah. Hot. So very, very hot.

  My body trembled from head to toe. I pulled away from the archway and pressed myself more firmly against him as one hand slid around to his muscular back while the other gripped his rock-hard bicep. In turn, his hand beneath my breast moved higher so his skimming thumb could sweep over my hard nipple.

  I should have torn my mouth from his to drag in some much-needed oxygen and to break the too-intense moment, but couldn’t do it. The fire that roared through my body at his erotic touch seared me to the very core of my being, but I refused to give up the intimacy of his kiss. It was the most perfect first kiss ever delivered. There was meaning behind it. Emotions conveyed similar to what I’d sometimes see in Mike’s eyes when he listened to me talk about a life I’d thought I was supposed to live back in Phoenix, the career I’d believed I would excel at with the TV station and the love I’d thought I’d had with Chase. And then with Brandon. Empathy, understanding and support, mixed with a healthy dose of desire and admiration.

  With this all-consuming kiss, I could forget Mike was a playboy. I could forget he seemed to have a different girl on his arm every month. I could forget he practically gave himself whiplash every time a beautiful woman walked by.

  I could forget he’d break my heart.

  When he finally pulled away, everything inside me had unraveled and my needs spiraled out of control. Breathing wasn’t really an option for me. In fact, I felt lightheaded after that scorching-hot lip-lock. My hand at his back moved to his wide, muscular chest, my fingers curling around the material of his T-shirt.

  “Whoa,” was all I could say. And it wasn’t of the “back off, buddy” variety. No, it was strictly the “my thighs just went up in flames and if you keep kissing me and rubbing my nipple, I’m going to come” variety.

  Mike said, “I knew it’d be hot between us.”

  I didn’t trust my voice. It would betray me. My words would tell him he should go, but my tone would suggest he take me to bed. Pronto.

  I tried to get a grip on the fluttering sensations in my stomach. Tried to breathe.

  The corner of Mike’s mouth lifted into another sexy-as-sin grin that kept my temperature spiking in the red. “I know you want to deny the chemistry between us,” he said, as though reading the contradictory thoughts racing through my mind. “But it’s not going to work anymore.”

  His head bent and his lips touched mine. So soft, so sweet. Not at all demanding and persistent, as I’d expected, given his alpha-male tendencies.

  God, how I wanted him. He was right—I couldn’t deny it any longer. I wanted to drag him down to the floor and climb on top of his glorious hunkiness. Beg him to do things to me that only bad boys like Mike Lucas knew how to do. I more than wanted him. I needed him.

  I’d lost this war completely.

  I was hooked on his kisses, but found myself pulling my mouth away to say, “Fuck me.” I craved his touch, plain and simple. To hell with the consequences. “Just once. One night of sex, nothing more.”

  His smile faded, though he continued to stare deep into my eyes, the way I liked. Some sort of inner turmoil brewed in his usually shimmering irises. He gave me another look I’d not previously seen from him and it caused a bout of panic to rise within me.

  “No, Lace,” he said on a ragged breath before working down what appeared to be a hard lump in his throat. “Haven’t you been listening to what I’m saying? I know I’ve hit on you a hundred times before, but now you’ve finally come around. This is the shot I’ve been waiting for. I don’t want just one night of hot sex. I want more than that with you.”

  I felt a stab of rejection that cut deep, even though I knew it shouldn’t. He was doing the right thing, actually saying the right words to prove he didn’t intend to use me. And hadn’t he said he just wanted to test the waters tonight? I had to respect all that.

  Maybe it wasn’t so much rejection that tore through me. More like mortification for having put myself out there when I’d told him what I wanted from him and disappointment he hadn’t pounced on my offer.

  I couldn’t take it back was the problem. He’d gotten what he’d wanted from me. The invitation he’d been angling for since the day we’d met.

  Regardless of everything he’d said—again, all the right things—I still felt stupid for propositioning him. I’d tried so hard for so long to stay out of his trap but had fallen prey to it anyway. Damn that champagne and the supermodel. If I hadn’t been turned-on earlier, I might have been able to stand my ground against Mike. I adored him, no doubt about it, but I couldn’t take a chance on him. Not the way he was asking me to.

  When he swooped in for another kiss, I stepped away.

  “Hey,” he said in his low voice. “Don’t be like that. You know I want you. You also know I don’t want you to think I’m similar to Chase and Brandon.”

  “Then why’d you kiss me?” I had to ask. “Why did you start something tonight you had no intention of finishing?”

  This time his expression was one I was wholly familiar with—an honest one. “You’ve always been capable of resisting me. But it’s a real bitch keeping my hands off you. Especially when you’re standing here all dolled up and breathless. Wanting me so bad, it’s written on your face and practically radiating from every pore of your body.”

  Of course, I was completely transparent. How could I not be? He made me hotter than the freakin’ sun.

  “I tried to blow it off,” he said. “Make light of me being naked in your bathroom. I should have just put on my clothes and walked out the door. But the fact is, I want you so bad, I couldn’t stop myself from seeing how you’d respond to a kiss.”

  Um, like a Roman candle someone had just set a burning match to?

  Admittedly, I was terrified of how strongly I’d reacted to him—even just that first feath
erlike kiss. Luckily, his next words brought my anxiety down a bit and helped me to breathe easier.

  “I can’t have you just yet, Lace,” he told me. “Not when you’re still thinking in terms of a one-night stand. That’s not how I want this to go between us.”

  I regretted what I had to say about that before the sentiment was even out of my mouth. “There is no us.”

  He shifted from one booted foot to the other and said, “You can’t act like nothing happened tonight.”

  I nodded. I had to do that very thing. For my sake and maybe for his too. Certainly for the sake of our friendship. Though we’d pushed the boundaries this evening, we’d dodged a bullet when he’d turned me down.

  “Just leave,” I told him, before we made the situation worse. “Please.”

  He stared at me a moment longer and I swam in ocean-blue eyes that would likely haunt me the rest of the evening. His jaw was set in a hard line and I knew he wanted to tell me off for shutting down after what we’d shared. But he knew me well enough to understand that when I reached this point, I wouldn’t budge. I hadn’t with Chase, when he’d come crawling back to me after his endless cheating. Nor had I changed my mind for Brandon when he’d sworn the threesome I’d caught him starring in meant absolutely nothing to him.

  I’d made a mistake tonight with Mike, but I could rectify it. Head it off at the pass. I knew that was the smart thing to do.

  Finally, he said, “I’ll lock up for you. And I promise not to use your shower again—unless you’re in it with me.” Despite the tension in the air, he winked at me.

  Then he turned and walked away, his boots making a low thump on my hardwood floor. I was surprised I could hear the noise over the erratic beating of my heart.

  I stared after him, until he disappeared through the door and locked it behind him with the key I’d given him for emergencies. He’d used it to take a shower in the very tub I soaked in. He’d used it to get inside my well-structured life and mess it all up with his hunky body and sizzling kisses. He’d used it to get inside my heart with his admission he didn’t want to play me the way I’d been played in the past. But I wouldn’t let him stay there. No matter how much he turned me on. No matter how sweet I thought it was he hadn’t fully taken advantage of my weakness this evening.

  Not having sex with Mike tonight was for the best. Bottom line, Bad-Boy Magnet Lacey Mansfield couldn’t survive another trip down Heartbreak Lane.

  Not even with a man who swore he’d never hurt me. A man I found almost completely irresistible.

  Almost…

  Chapter Three

  The Supermodel Strikes Again.

  I had no idea how to stop what I’d put into motion with Mike, but it was the first thing I thought of when I woke the next morning. Having tossed and turned all night from sexual frustration and the temptation of Mike being so close in proximity—the only thing separating us being a common wall and my trust issues—I wasn’t exactly well-rested and perky. In fact, I glowered at him as I came out of my apartment and passed him in the hallway when he stepped out of the elevator, his ritual to-go cup from the coffeehouse on the corner in his hand. The same hand that had just barely touched me last night, but which had thoroughly set me on fire.

  After he’d left the previous evening, it’d been all I could do to keep from alleviating some of the sexual tension I’d felt. But I’d had the insane notion in my head he might be listening on the other side of the wall we shared. And cranking up the music for five minutes to cover a battery-operated device was too damn obvious. Him knowing I was so turned-on I’d had to take matters into my own hands wouldn’t bode well for my resolve to distance myself from him, would it?

  He said, “Bright, sunny day today. We should have lunch in Central Park.”

  “I’m working,” I grumbled.

  Undeterred, he grinned. “You are so not a morning person.” Nothing new there. “How about dinner tonight?”

  His invitation was as a casual as always, and nothing out of the ordinary. Yet it made my stomach twist in knots because I was completely disoriented today. I had no idea how to sort out the push-and-pull inside me, the emotional tug-of-war in my heart.

  The fact I was so crazy about Mike made a part of me want to explore what he’d hinted at—a relationship. But too much of me had turned tail and run last night and I couldn’t deny I had good reason for being scared. More than just my fear of being hurt, I still couldn’t wrap my mind around Mike wanting more than just an easy lay. Who would’ve guessed?

  I needed some time to get everything back into place in my mind and my heart, so I said, “I’ve got a lot happening with this new case. I’ll probably be home late.” I hoped that would keep him from considering stopping by.

  Nope.

  “I’ll order Chinese. We can heat it up when you get in, if you’re running behind.”

  I stared at him. The fact he was so amazingly good-looking aside, the sparkle in his eyes made him hard to say no to. But Chase and Brandon had had that “I’m all yours, babe” look about them too. Third time with a bad boy would not be the charm, I was sure of it.

  “I’m really not going to be in the mood for company,” I told him. “I already saw footage from last night’s catastrophe at the Montlimiere on the morning news and on the Internet. This campaign sabotage has gone high profile and I’ll be swimming in it for a while.” Terrible pun, considering Biel’s tragic debut as Elan’s model.

  “I can help, you know.” The sincerity in his eyes and his genuine smile made me sigh.

  The problem, I realized, was that even if I wanted to think he was like Chase and Brandon in order to keep him at arm’s length and to protect myself, I knew, deep in my heart, he wasn’t cut from the same cloth. Despite his voracious sexual appetite and remarkable ability to score any woman he wanted, I could not dispute Mike Lucas was a good guy. One of the things that made him so hard to resist.

  He was the kind of man who’d risk life and limb to push my car down Fifth Avenue if I ran out of gas. The kind of man who would buy me an airline ticket back home to see my mother if I couldn’t afford it—upgrading it to first class and refusing to let me pay him back. The kind of man who would pummel a jerk like Brandon for fucking two other women in the coatroom at my friend’s wedding reception and making an absolute fool out of me in front of several hundred people.

  Though the first two scenarios were hypothetical, the third was not. Mike had been offended for me, a complete stranger at the time, and hadn’t been able to let the slight go. That was how we’d met and I’d found out about this great apartment. And the fantastic man living next door to it.

  Thinking of how supportive he’d been from the very second I’d met him made my heart flutter—which, conversely, put me on edge.

  I said, “Of course you’d help me if I needed it. You always have. And I appreciate what you said last night about not wanting just a one-night stand with me. I got caught up in the heat of the moment and you did the right thing by walking away so my convictions weren’t convoluted by alcohol and your seriously sexy and very naked body. That doesn’t make me feel better, though. Can you understand that?”

  He stared at me, coffee cup in one hand, keys to his apartment in the other. What likely went through his mind was something along the lines of “Why do I even bother with this one?” I certainly wouldn’t blame him for thinking that.

  No other woman seemed to require him to jump through hoops when showered with attention from him. I’d seen how other girls responded to him. They’d do just about anything to turn his head and they hung on his every word. Mike could make a woman roll over and spread her legs with little more than a wink and a smile. I’d seen them melt right off their stools at bars and parties and the coffeehouse on the corner.

  I did not want to be one of them.

  “I’m the one who said and did all the wrong things last night,” I told him. “Now I’m stuck with the admission I made about wanting you to fuck me, but I don’t hav
e to act on it.”

  He countered with a sharp retort. “You think you’re the only one skating on thin ice, Lace, but that’s not true. You’re not the only one who made a damning admission you’re stuck with.”

  His words about trying to find someone who would help to get me out of his head flashed in my mind as he continued.

  “I wouldn’t have kissed you if I was seeing someone else right now. I didn’t try to trap you into telling me you want me for the sake of rubbing it in your face. And if I bring Chinese over for dinner tonight, it’s because, no matter what, we’re still friends. Got it?”

  I let out a long breath. How many dinners had we eaten in my living room while watching a movie or rehashing our day with each other? Dozens and dozens. Maybe hundreds over the course of three years. And yes, he’d flirted. But he’d never taken advantage—just as he hadn’t last night when I’d given him the prime opportunity in which to do so.

  I didn’t want to be a heel or mess up our friendship. I had no idea what I’d do if we were seriously on the outs. So I gave in.

  “I’ll try to be home by seven,” I said, contrite and remorseful I was acting as though I’d been the only one to dig a hole I couldn’t get out of. The things he’d said to me in my apartment had not gone over my head. I simply chose not to ruminate over them, because that hole would only get deeper if I did. But he deserved more from me than the cold shoulder. “And I’ll try to be less of a bitch.”

  He laughed. Deep and hearty, taking me aback. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d always been tried and true with me. The complication was me, not him.

  Being the wonderful person he was, he said, “You’re not a bitch, Lace. You’re a good friend and I don’t want to screw anything up between us anymore than you do. But come on. We can only pretend for so long we’re not into each other.”