Her gaze drifted to the head of the table where her mother was having a tête-à-tête with a handsome man only a handful of years older than Desiree. Not that Mama would ever admit it, but she had had more than a few little nips and tucks over the years. The result was a woman who often passed for their older sister instead of their mother. Annaline Aasen also had her daughter Selena’s svelte dancer’s body instead of Desiree’s fuller figure. The pair of them had naturally blonde hair, sexy green bedroom eyes, and husky voices that made men drop at their feet. It was disgusting.
The memory of Nicolai’s beautiful brown eyes ghosted through her mind. Something told her a man like him would be utterly immune to her sister’s and her mother’s charms. He wouldn’t put up with their ridiculous flirting games. He was too real.
Her body tingled, a zing whizzing down her spine until it came to rest at her core. Nothing in life had prepared her for Nicolai, for the way he made her feel. Alive, as if she were beautiful and powerful. She’d known beyond a doubt that, to him, she was perfect. His touch alone made her body melt, even after he’d walked away. Nicolai’s last words about the nature of one-night stands burned like a wound that wouldn’t close.
Harmon cleared his throat. “I was wondering, since dinner seems to be more or less over, if you’d like to go out for a drink. I know a fabulous martini bar not far from here.”
She wondered what he’d say if she told him the truth. With her luck, he’d be some closet BDSM freak who would offer to show her how to be submissive. Her mind flashed back to what it felt like to ride Nicolai’s thick cock. Even with her on top, he was a dominating force.
“Desiree?”
If nothing else, an impromptu date with Harmon got her out of this restaurant while momentarily satisfying her mother. “Sure, that’d be great.”
* * * *
“What can I get you?” The bartender leaned over to give Harmon a clear view of her artificial cleavage.
“Two appletinis, please.”
Desiree hid a grimace. The only thing she detested more than a man who ordered for her was an appletini. On the other hand, she had to give Harmon credit for not trying to leap into the bartender’s low-cut shirt, though he’d been enthusiastically offered the chance.
“So, Desiree, are you excited about the upcoming nuptials?”
“Not particularly.” She had to bite back a laugh at the sight of her height-challenged date actually climbing up onto the bar stool. Once settled, he rested his arm on the chrome-and-glass bar and did his level best to look suave.
“I thought most women loved weddings.”
“Women like their own weddings.”
She wanted to curse when his eyes lit up. He probably thought she was fishing for a proposal. Damn. Thankfully the bartender chose that moment to deliver their toxic green drinks. Desiree picked hers up and took a sip just to give her mouth something to do.
“Every woman deserves a magical wedding day.” Harmon reached out and touched her hand where it sat on the bar.
“I’m sure you understand that more than most men.”
He stiffened at the not-so-subtle reminder of his three failed marriages.
“Actually I’ve been thinking that I’d like to forgo marriage altogether.”
“What?”
Desiree had gone out on this conversational limb to rebuff his unwanted advances, but she suddenly found herself facing an epiphany of sorts. “No, really. Marriage just doesn’t seem to work out very well for my family. I don’t even have to mention my mother’s disastrous marital experiences.”
He sucked down half his drink in one agitated swallow. “But your brother seems happy enough.”
“He is. But that whole thing would never have worked had they tried to do it through the regular social channels. I’m thinking unconventional is the only good answer.”
“What do you mean?”
What did she mean? She almost blushed as a mental image of her straddling Nicolai’s muscular body flashed through her mind. Give up marriage? Yes. Give up sex? Not if it included time spent with Nicolai.
Thinking of Nicolai made her think of Jack’s. It was difficult to believe this martini bar and Jack’s were both the same type of establishment. Nicolai kept his bar low-key and friendly. The customers were there to have a good time and let off some steam. This place looked like a hunting ground.
It was dim, and everything was tinted purple by freaky overhead lighting. The chrome-accented glass bar looked like something from a cheap sci-fi movie, and all the bartenders were well-endowed females with no hips and perfect little butts. Headache-inducing techno music was piped in from somewhere in the vaulted, industrial-looking ceiling. Wherever you looked, the patrons wore expensive, tailored clothing. There were no jeans, no T-shirts, and definitely no pool tables.
“I like this place.” Harmon relaxed back into his pod-shaped bar stool. “I come here at least twice a week.”
“For what?” It slipped out before she could stop it.
The shifty look in his eyes was not confidence inspiring. “I usually meet some friends for drinks after work.”
“Uh-huh.” Meaning this was where he auditioned all his dates. Nice. She hopped down off the bar stool and picked up her purse. “I should really be going, Harmon. There’s still a lot of wedding stuff to do in the morning, and I should get to bed.”
“Are you sure? It’s so early!”
“No, really, thanks for the drink. I’m sure I’ll see you at the reception.”
She didn’t wait for his response. It didn’t matter what he said anyway. She didn’t belong there, and she didn’t belong with him. There was only one place she wanted to be, and that was Jack’s. Even though Nicolai had made it perfectly clear there was no future for the two of them, she couldn’t believe there was no possibility for at least one more round. After that, who knew what could happen?
The contemporary doors gave way a little too easily, spilling her out onto the street and banging back into place as though they’d spit her out. Striding to the curb, she raised a hand and whistled to bring a cab screeching to a halt in the street.
She yanked the door open and scooted across the seat, slamming the door closed with a satisfying thud. No more Harmon. No more dating men just because her mother thought they were appropriate. It didn’t matter what they had to offer. They’d never hold a candle to Nicolai.
“Where ya headed?” the cabbie drawled.
Her heart began to pound inside her chest. “I need to go to Brookline, and then I want you to take me to a place called Jack’s in Back Bay.”
* * * *
Desiree locked her door and flopped down onto her bed. She needed to find the perfect ensemble to wear to Jack’s, but first she had to get out of her uncomfortable evening clothes. She kicked off her heels and listened to them thump on the plush carpet. The sound was reminiscent of her impromptu date with Harmon Wilhelm. It’d been mercifully short, but there’d been a lot of that “other shoe-dropping” going on.
Rolling to her back, she stared at the textured ceiling. He wasn’t an awful guy. He was nice. He was a perfect gentleman. He was smart. He had plenty of money. He was also as boring as the day was long. The man had the emotional range of a turnip.
Jumping up, she stripped out of her skirt and top, leaving them and her stockings wadded up on the floor. She stalked into the closet and pushed aside a rack of cocktail dresses she never wore. Hiding in the very back was a selection of clothing she’d purchased after Chelsea had invited her to the upscale sex club she’d visited the night before. While the club had been a total disappointment, there was no need to let all that clothing go to waste.
She pulled out a dress that pushed most of her comfort zones to the max. The white knit one-shoulder dress draped low on top, barely hiding her trusty strapless bra. The skirt was short and tight. Checking her reflection in the full-length mirror, Desiree made a mental note not to bend over for anything. Not only would she show her ass to whoever
happened to be behind her, but her boobs would tumble right out of the top.
Next came the necessary cosmetics. She didn’t believe for one second that Nicolai preferred a woman with plenty of makeup, but her heavy-lidded eyes and red lips went with the overall image she was trying to project. She twirled her hair into a messy knot and secured it with a rhinestone clip that matched the shoulder strap of her dress. If he thought she was a one-night-stand kind of girl, she’d call his bluff and masquerade as just that.
Clutching her tiny purse in one hand and her stilettos in the other, she quietly opened her bedroom door. Entering the house a half hour ago had been no big deal. It was a little like prison that way. She could only hope the cabdriver was still waiting like she’d asked him to.
The wide hallway was utterly silent. Tiptoeing to the top of the stairs, Desiree held her breath. If her mother happened to be downstairs, her plans would come to dust. Nothing short of Armageddon would save her from the lecture this outfit would bring about.
The foyer was dark and still. Even the housekeeping staff had retired for the night. She felt like a teenager sneaking out, which was ridiculous. She was thirty-six years old. Of course, it was also ridiculous for a thirty-six-year-old woman to live at home so she could keep tabs on her mother and grown sister. Sometimes life made no sense.
The marble floor was cool beneath her bare feet. The double doors studded with etched glass loomed ahead. Sliding the dead bolt, she tried to control the hammering of her heart. The door opened without a creak, thanks to diligent oiling. Stepping onto the front porch, she almost danced with glee as she pulled the door closed behind her.
The sudden shriek of the alarm system set her teeth on edge. Of all the things to forget, she’d walked right past the keypad without entering the code.
“Fuck me.”
Desperation hit Desiree hard, and she bolted. Running for all she was worth, she dashed between the colonnades and onto the front lawn. By the time she covered the short distance to the street, she was laughing. Silly did not even cover this behavior. She had finally lost her mind.
Hopping a little, she pulled on her strappy silver high heels. The yellow cab still sat on the curb several hundred yards away. She could almost believe the dingy car was wreathed in holy light. All that was needed was a choir of angels to sing when she pulled open the door and stepped inside.
Free at last!
Chapter Five
“Your girl’s back, Nicky.”
Nicolai ignored Logan’s blatant look of curiosity and pulled the basket out of the fryer. “I told you what to say to her, Flynn. I meant it.”
“I tried that already.”
“Try it again.” He used tongs to put fresh fries into the waiting baskets.
Flynn came all the way into the kitchen, ducking around the make table to stand in the middle of the line. “Seriously, Nicolai, if you don’t come now, you’re going to be breaking up a riot in about thirty seconds.”
“How much trouble can one girl get into?” He nodded to Logan to finish the cheeseburger baskets and wiped his hands on the towel hanging at his waist. What he wanted was a shower. Despite the thick apron tied around his midsection, his jeans and white tee were spotted with grease and food debris. Working the make line was his least favorite job. Jack’s had a limited menu, but what they had was in high demand with their college clientele.
He followed Flynn out of the kitchen. The bar stools were empty, and only half a dozen patrons were scattered around the tables. Everyone seemed to have congregated down by the jukebox in a space he kept for use as a dance floor. A solid wall of people had gathered in a loosely defined semicircle. Most of the audience was male, and something in his gut told him it was the wild girl who had them all enthralled.
Anger wasn’t something he generally gave in to. He was slow to boil, and rarely did he ever explode. Until now. He could practically feel the smoke pouring out of his nostrils. Blood rushed in his ears, punctuated by the thunder of his heart.
He couldn’t fault the audience for looking. How could they not? She was sensual lust personified. Her white dress hardly covered her rounded ass cheeks. Her legs were sleek and graceful as she danced a hypnotic beat in her silver heels. The top portion of her outfit barely managed to hide her full, swaying breasts. Every movement served as a tease, her soft flesh winking in and out of sight, with one shoulder totally bare and the other exposed like a promise.
“Oh hell no,” he growled.
Someone jumped out on the dance floor. It took him a minute to recognize the beach bum from the night before. With Nicolai out of the picture, Beach Bum was eager to try and get a piece of what he’d missed. He moved in behind her, hips gyrating with the music’s beat. When he grabbed her waist and tucked in so close their bodies touched, Nicolai lost it.
He moved through the bar like death walking. A few stragglers saw him coming and stepped aside. The rest he shouldered out of the way. Beach Bum paled beneath his tan, scuttling backward and blending into the crowd.
“Thought you were busy.” She gave him a fleeting look but didn’t pause in her sinuous dance.
“Thought you got the message last night.”
She stopped moving, challenging him with her gaze. “I’m looking for my next one-night stand.”
An irrational jolt of jealousy nearly brought him to his knees. He didn’t believe for one second she was being serious. She was fucking with him. And dammit all to hell, it was working. He couldn’t imagine her with anyone else. Nobody should kiss those curves or experience her uninhibited passion on display. Nobody but him.
He didn’t have anything else to say to her claim. Before she could open her mouth and add something equally ridiculous, he reached out and plucked her off the floor. She squeaked as he flung her over his shoulder. When he put his hand on her leg to hold her steady, his fingers slid over her silky inner thigh. Her warmth seared him like a branding iron. Reason took a backseat to his desire for the woman in his arms. Delving a little deeper beneath her short skirt, he brushed her mound.
Her little sound of pleasure ripped away the remainder of his control. Turning on his heel, Nicolai stalked back through the bar. Logan gave him an openmouthed look of surprise as he entered the kitchen. Nicolai clomped up the steps, pausing only long enough to open his door. Once inside, he took her straight to the bed and dumped her onto the neatly made surface.
“Hey, you made the bed. Were you expecting company?”
“Yeah, four hotties I met just before you got here. I’m going to take a shower. Tell them to wait when they come up.”
She stuck out her tongue, and he had to turn away to hide a smile. He shouldn’t be encouraging this madness. It would be far wiser to call a cab and send her home for the second time in as many days. She didn’t belong at Jack’s, and she sure as hell didn’t belong in his bed. So why did he want her so bad that he was willing to overlook all the other issues?
He closed the bathroom door and stripped out of his grimy clothing. Turning on the spray, he stepped in without waiting for it to heat up. Frigid water hit his flushed skin like a shower of tiny needles. It sluiced down his back and lowered his body temperature to a level that should’ve made rational thought possible. With his palms braced against the tile wall, he tried to analyze the possible plans of attack available to him.
She’s just another woman.
“Mind if I join you?”
Naked and beautiful, she didn’t wait for an invitation. She pulled open the flimsy shower door and stepped right into the stall. “Shit, that’s cold!”
Screw rational thought. His cock was now calling all the shots. Crystalline droplets sprinkled her soft skin, beading and rolling down her shapely curves. Her nipples peaked into hard little points. He remembered how they felt between his teeth and how they tasted beneath his tongue. His cock thickened, reaching toward his belly despite the frigid temperature of the water.
She glanced down at the obvious evidence of his interest. “I
thought you might need someone to help you wash.”
Nicolai would’ve given her a clever comeback, except she chose that moment to squat down in the close quarters and wrap both hands around his shaft. His hands shot out to brace his weight on the walls. Water dripped down his bare forehead and ran into his eyes, but he couldn’t look away.
“I don’t see a sponge handy. Guess I’ll have to suck it clean.”
She gazed up at him and laved her tongue around the blunt tip of his cock. Getting a firm grip on his shaft, she sucked lightly on the head. Her tongue delved into the hole at the tip, and he had to clench his teeth to hold still. His balls were on fire. She planted the flat of her tongue against him and swirled around and around the head before swallowing him whole.
His shaft slid past her teeth, bumping the back of her throat. She gave a throaty moan that sent a ripple of vibrations up and down his hypersensitive skin. Pulling back, she created suction that threatened to rip the cum straight from his dick. The desire to grab her head and fuck her mouth was overwhelming, but he wanted to be gentle. Reaching down with shaking hands, he pushed a stray strand of wet hair behind her ear.
She cupped his tight sac in her hand and held it away from his body. Sucking his shaft in a series of rhythmic thrusts, she gently squeezed his balls at the same tempo. His heart hammered until it was thumping against his rib cage, and his breathing grew harsh.
Nicolai could count on one hand the number of times he’d allowed himself to come in a woman’s mouth. His control didn’t allow it. He chose the moment of release, when his partner was ready, when he felt as though the time was ripe. This was different. The wild girl sucking his cock wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
She increased her pace, kneading his sac and using her other hand to pump his shaft. Her tongue found his sensitive flange and kept pace until he was bombarded with stimulation that set his whole body humming with the need to come.
His impending release trickled down his spine, pooling in the small of his back and sending rivers of fire shooting down his legs. It burned inside his body, culminating in a need so intense he bit back a groan of pleasurable agony.
Boston Avant-Garde: Impetuous Page 4
