For Another Day (One Strike Away Book 2)

by Mary J. Williams

Subject closed. Rowan didn't want to spend another second thinking or talking about Wilton Jacobs. Nick, thank goodness, was happy to follow her lead. They enjoyed their dessert accompanied by light, easy conversation.

  However, as they waited while their waitress brought them the bill, the mood shifted as Rowan remembered her earlier declaration. From the look in his eyes as he placed his credit card in his billfold, Nick's thoughts traveled along the same line.

  "Sex?" he whispered in Rowan's ear, helping her on with her coat?

  Rowan simply took Nick's hand, retracing the steps they took earlier that evening. She waved to Dwayne as they left the restaurant. Crisp and clean, she took a deep breath, her arm brushing Nick's. She stopped when they reached the SUV.

  "Sex?" she asked, winding her arms around Nick's waist. She smiled, tipping her head as his lips grazed the side of her neck. "Yes. Please."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ● ≈ ● ≈ ●

  EXCITEMENT BUZZED THROUGH Rowan's blood.

  As Nick drove down the mountain, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other lightly brushing her arm, her hand, her thigh, she waited for her nerves to kick in.

  And waited. And waited.

  Nothing. Not even a twinge trying to warn Rowan she had made the wrong decision by going so far outside her normal behavior.

  Rowan Cartwright didn't invite men back to her home with the sole purpose of having sex. Not their first time together.

  Her date would walk her to the door. Kiss Rowan goodnight. If something sparked, she would initiate another kiss. She might invite him in for a drink. The process would be a slow build. A progression of steps with the looming question of maybe they would, or maybe they wouldn't.

  Almost from the moment she met Nick, she knew the answer. Yes, they would. The only question was how soon.

  Rowan hadn't expected tonight to turn into the night. In fact, she had talked herself into waiting. Anticipation was a potent form of foreplay. Knowing Nick would be leaving town on Wednesday provided her with a time limit. Tuesday night they could sleep together. If the experience were great, Rowan would be left with a nice memory.

  If Nick turned out to be an unexpected dud, Rowan wouldn't have to worry about a repeat performance. Or an awkward phone call explaining why she didn't want to see him again. Been there, done that.

  Rowan should have known better. Nick wasn't like any man she had ever met. And the chemistry between them? Off the charts. The more time she spent with him, the logical reasons for not sleeping with him as soon as possible—and as often as possible—dissolved like tissue paper in a tsunami.

  "You're awfully quiet." Keeping his eyes on the road, Nick lifted Rowan's hand to his lips. "Second thoughts."

  "A lot of thoughts. None of them second ones."

  "Talk to me, Rowan. What's going through that wonderfully complicated mind of yours?"

  Rowan wondered if this was the time to keep her thoughts to herself. She wasn't prone to spilling every word and idea that popped into her head. But with Nick, she felt the need to share… everything. From the smallest observations to the biggest emotions.

  Off the top of her head, Rowan could think of a dozen reasons she couldn't say any of those things to Nick. Beginning with the one that had been at the top of the list from the moment they met.

  Too soon. And since Nick was leaving in a few days? Rowan added a big, fat never. Why embarrass herself—and send him running for the hills? Better she edit her words. For both their sakes.

  "On average, how many times do you have sex in one night?"

  "With the same woman? Or are we talking multiple partners?"

  "Wow. Not the answer I expected."

  Fascinated, Rowan shifted, turning her body toward Nick as much as her seatbelt would allow.

  "New question. How often do you have multiple partners in one night? Do you go from woman to woman? All at once? And how does it work? When you're servicing one, do the others play with each other? Do they watch? Or—"

  "Slow down before you blow a gasket," Nick laughed. Hard. "Do you really want to know?"

  "Definitely." Rowan decided she needed to clarify so Nick wouldn't get the wrong idea. "As long as you understand I'm merely curious. Whatever you and I do is strictly one on one. No extra participants. No rubberneckers."

  Nick slowed the SUV, stopping outside Rowan's house.

  "Hold that thought."

  Bemused, Rowan waited as Nick jogged around the vehicle, opening her door and taking her hand which he kept in his after helping her alight.

  "For me, sex is fun. Always has been," Nick said in a conversational tone as they strolled toward the front door. "Pretty much anything goes as long as everybody involved can legally buy a beer and is fully on board."

  "Whips? Chains? Nipple clamps? Other men?"

  Chuckling, Nick leaned against the doorjamb as Rowan turned the lock.

  "Yes—soft. No. Once. No."

  Rowan quickly matched Nick's answers to her questions.

  "Were your nipples on the receiving or giving end?"

  Nick followed Rowan into the house. He shut the door, turning the locks.

  "Giving. Are you asking these questions out of a general curiosity? Or…?"

  Rowan unbuttoned her coat, shaking her head.

  "I'm not the tie me up, tie me down kind of woman. However, I do wonder about the appeal."

  "My partner at the time enjoyed the lifestyle. So, I dipped my toe in the water. Turned out the whole bondage, flagellation, pain equals pleasure, isn't my thing. "

  "But you enjoy more than one woman at a time?"

  Handing Rowan his coat, Nick sighed. But his indulgent smile didn't waver.

  "A baseball season is a long, sometimes exciting, occasionally tedious, campaign. Sex takes the edge off. Multiple partner sex perks up an otherwise routine Wednesday night. But only if the Cyclones don't play on Thursday."

  Rowan had never met a man who was so naturally open about… anything. But especially concerning his sex life. To be fair, the idea of asking never occurred to her before.

  "Have I scared you off?"

  "Are you going to invite another woman to join us?"

  "No." Kissing her lightly, Nick slid his hands up Rowan's arms. One stopped at her neck, cupping the back. The other took the clip from her hair, wrapping the length around his fingers. "Besides, who would I call? All the interested women I know live three thousand miles away."

  "Good," Rowan made an encouraging sound of pleasure when Nick kissed the side of her neck. "Tonight, I need your undivided attention."

  "You have it. Tonight. Tomorrow. As long as I'm in Jasper."

  Nothing Nick had told her about his sexual history bothered her. Not a twinge of concern. Rowan didn't care how many women—alone or in bunches—he'd been with.

  As long as I'm in Jasper.

  Rowan appreciated Nick's honesty. He didn't make any promises. He told her right up front. Sex was fun. And their time together had a definitive beginning, middle, and end. A fact she would deal with when the time came.

  But tonight was their beginning. And Rowan would enjoy every second.

  "I like this suit."

  Rowan could feel Nick's lips curve as he continued to explore her neck.

  "What do you like? The color? The fit?"

  "Yes, and yes. I enjoyed looking at you while we ate. But right now, I like how easily I can remove your jacket."

  To prove her point, Rowan undid the single button, pushing the butter-soft material from his shoulders and down his arms until the jacket lay in a pool at his feet.

  "The pants come off almost as quickly—in the right hands."

  "Good to know."

  Rowan's laugh had a low, husky quality she didn't recognize. She liked the sound. And from Nick's low growl, so did he. Or perhaps his reaction had something to do with how her hands kept brushing the bulge between his legs as she carefully lowered his zip
per. She was fine either way.

  "You were right. Off in a heartbeat."

  How Nick managed, Rowan would never know. Before giving her more than a glimpse of his long, muscular legs, he removed his shoes, lost the socks, and gently nudged her onto the couch.

  "Smooth," Rowan laughed.

  "Just wait," Nick knelt, his hand disappearing under Rowan's skirt. "You ain't seen nothing yet."

  "I thought you might want me to keep my boots on."

  Nick simply raised an eyebrow, baring Rowan's right foot, then her left, her boots joining his shoes in a nearby pile. He kissed the inside of Rowan's thigh.

  "So damn soft and warm."

  Closing her eyes, Rowan breathed deeply as her blood heated and her heart began to pound as if planning to burst from her chest at any moment. Nick's kisses were like gasoline near an open flame. Her body felt ready to explode.

  "White lace?"

  After a busy week, the panties were the only clean pair Rowan had left. Along with the matching bra, they were a gift from her best friend that were too impractical for everyday wear.

  "Don't let the color fool you. There is nothing virginal about me."

  Nick met her gaze. Talk about heat. His dark eyes almost scorched her skin with their intensity.

  "You aren't innocent and sweet?"

  As Rowan slowly shook her head, Nick let out an exaggerated sigh of relief.

  "Thank God. If you told me you were a virgin, I wouldn't turn you away. Hell, I'm not crazy. My head is filled with a million fantasies involving you naked, and tempering them—even a little bit—would be disappointing."

  "A million fantasies?" Rowan was on board. "How many can we get through?"

  "Don't worry. We'll make a sizable dent. But you know the old saying." Nick removed the slip of white lace. "Every journey begins with the first step."

  As first steps went, he outdid himself.

  Nick pushed Rowan's skirt higher, higher, until the material was bunched just above her thighs, kissing each exposed inch of skin as he went.

  "You said you weren't sweet," he lightly admonished with a swipe of his tongue. "Believe me, I've never tasted anyone sweeter."

  Rowan gasped. Her head falling back, she let every thought fly from her head so she could concentrate on what was important. Nick. His magic tongue. And the otherworldly pleasure coursing through her body.

  Nick made her feel as though she was all that mattered. The house could tumble down around them, he wouldn't notice. At this moment, nothing—nobody—else existed.

  Clutching at the cushions, she never wanted it to end. Yet at the same time, she reached for that final burst, the crashing crescendo. Up. Up. Holy—

  "Nick!"

  Rowan reached the top alone, but Nick was with her for the fall. Holding her as her body shook. Encouraging. Soothing. And yes, from the look on his face as she finally had the strength to open her eyes, gloating. Just a little.

  "Don't look so smug," Rowan said with all the rancor she could muster. In this case, very little.

  "Do I?" Nick sounded pleased. "I wonder why?"

  "Maybe you have the right."

  "Maybe I do." Chuckling, Nick pulled her close, smoothing back her hair. "You called out my name."

  Did she? Rowan tried to remember. The pleasure she experienced was front and center. Whatever words might have come out of her mouth were blurred by a warm, fuzzy haze. Nick seemed pleased. So, what the heck. Why argue?

  Since the energy involved was minimal, Rowan used one hand to unbutton Nick's shirt. Her reward was his chest, bared to her very appreciative gaze.

  "Do you shave?" she asked, starting her explorations with his rock-hard abs. "Wax?"

  "Are you kidding?" Nick sounded as if her question was a major insult.

  Rowan really wanted to laugh, but she bit the inside of her lip instead. She had found a tender spot in Nick's seemingly impenetrable ego. Who would have guessed?

  "Manscaping? Isn't that what you cosmopolitan types call it?"

  "You got the term right. But I don't. I remove the hair from my face. The rest of me is all natural."

  To make up for her unintended gaffe, Rowan intensified her caresses, adding her mouth to the mix, soon losing herself in the task that was much more a treat than a chore.

  "Mm," Nick hummed his approval, his fingers lacing through her long hair.

  Rowan made her own humming sound as she lifted the waistband of Nick's shorts. "Oh, my."

  "Are you laughing? Cause FYI. No man alive wants a woman to chuckle at his dick."

  Nick grinned as he spoke, showing Rowan he wasn't worried about her reaction to what he carried between his legs. Nor should he be?

  "Nothing to be ashamed of from this angle." Rowan turned her head. "Or this one. Just to be certain, why don't I get a closer look?"

  "Sounds like a plan. But first." Nick groaned when Rowan kissed the region of his bellybutton before he could stop her.

  "You made me miss my target."

  "Try again as soon as we're in your bed. I won't move a muscle." Nick took Rowan by the hand, pulling her to her feet. "Lead on."

  "Drop the shirt, and you have a deal."

  "Negotiating? After what I did for you?"

  "Yes."

  "You're wearing more than I am."

  Without a second thought, Rowan removed her jacket. Her blouse was next. As she shimmied out of her skirt, she paused, waiting for Nick to catch up.

  "Sorry," he said, unbuttoning first one cuff, followed by the other. "You distracted me with that fast, but entertaining striptease. Nice bra."

  "Matches the panties. Angie will be glad to know they finally saw the light of day. Or rather night."

  "Your best friend?"

  Rowan nodded. "She likes to give me lingerie as a gift."

  "Tell her I said thank you." With an expert touch, Nick unfastened the closure. "I love bras that open in the front. But not as much as what's underneath."

  Laughing, Rowan took a step back, avoiding Nick's reach.

  "Hands to yourself, fella. Shorts next. Then you can feel me up to your heart's content."

  Nick didn't hesitate. Nor was he shy about his body. Why would he be? Top to bottom—and everything between—was the highest form of eye candy. He waited, content to let Rowan look her fill.

  "Nice."

  "Nice?" Nick raised an eyebrow. "Surely you can do better than that."

  "Very nice. And don't call me surely."

  "I didn't think I could want you more. But a woman who quotes Airplane? Irresistible."

  "Then come and get me."

  Rowan took off, knowing that Nick would be close behind. He could have easily caught her as she zipped through the living room and up the stairs. But glancing over her shoulder, she could see he enjoyed the chase. The game. Playing.

  Laughing, slightly out of breath, Rowan collapsed onto her bed. Rather than pounce, Nick paused in the doorway. To use his word, she realized they were having fun. A new experience for her.

  Rowan had always enjoyed sex, but the idea of combining lighthearted play with wild passion would never have occurred to her. The two had always seemed like polar opposites. Now, she wondered how she could ever go back to anything else.

  Holding out her arms, Rowan beckoned Nick to join her.

  "Hello, gorgeous," she whispered as his hard body covered hers.

  "That should be my line." Nick's kiss left her gasping, wanting more. "I wish I had the words. Rowan—"

  Rowan laid a finger over Nick's lips. She found herself torn between wanting to know what was going on in his head and worrying that if she knew, saying goodbye would be hard. Harder than that moment was already bound to be.

  "Not now. Let's enjoy each other." She pushed at his shoulder. Nick wrapped his arm around her waist, reversing positions. "Let me make you feel good."

  "Having you near makes me feel good." Nick touched her face. Slowly, he g
rinned. "But I'm happy to take whatever you have in mind."

  "Damn right. I don't do this every day. So, consider yourself one of the lucky few."

  "You don't have to."

  Nick's words said one thing. The look—the need—in his eyes said another. Even if she wanted to, how could she disappoint him? Luckily, stopping was the last thing on her mind.

  "Relax." Rowan gave him a lingering kiss. Then winked. "Lie back and think of England."

  With a bark of laughter, Nick fluffed the pillow, his hands cradled behind his head.

  "I'll be too busy thinking of you."

  "If after thirty seconds you can think at all, I should brush up on my technique."

  As a prelude—and because she couldn't resist—Rowan started with Nick's spectacular chest. Smooth, hard, her lips feasted. She breathed deeply, taking in his scent. Clean and spicy.

  As a test, Rowan licked his rippling abs. Just as she suspected. Nick tasted even better than he smelled. And the way he sucked in his stomach followed by a deep moan, told her she wasn't the only one enjoying her ministrations.

  "You doing okay?" Rowan asked, peeking at Nick through the curtain of her hair.

  "One thing. I want to watch. But…"

  Nick tried to push her hair behind her ear. The tresses were too thick and silky to stay in place for long.

  In the drawer of her nightstand, Rowan found a barrette—the kind she kept in almost every room in the house. Twisting her hair into a topknot, she clipped the messy mass into place.

  "Problem solved. I've thought about going for a shorter cut. Something practical."

  "Are you crazy?" Nick protested.

  "One day. Maybe," she reassured him, surprised yet pleased by his reaction. "But not anytime soon."

  "Good."

  "Now, where was I?"

  Nick took Rowan's hand. "Right here."

  Chuckling, Rowan shook her head, grasping the long, hot length of him.

  "I'm pretty sure you jumped ahead a bit. But this is your party."

  Oral sex wasn't Rowan's favorite activity. After all, there was a reason somebody named it a blowjob. However, after a hesitant start, she quickly realized that with the right person—namely, Nick—she didn't mind. Just the opposite. She felt a burst of power.