It had to have been hours later when “This Mess We’re In”—PJ Harvey and Thom Yorke—filled the room. He stood close, like he had every song, gaze locked on hers, never once glancing at the prompter, as he sang about looking each other in the eye directly, meeting on a Wednesday, and the mess they were in.
She pressed into him, sliding along his frame with lyrics of dreaming of making love and impossible dreams. Her nipples tightened each time he drew near.
His fingers glided up her spine as they moved into the last chorus, with her speaking the words and him singing about never changing or meeting again. The feather-light touch dragged her longing to the surface, and her skin tingled, begging to feel more of him. Each word sank deeper into her soul, drawing her into the moment as if she were living it.
The surreal, seductive feeling lingered as the last strains of the music faded from the speakers, not disrupted by the applause filling the room. She stood toe to toe with him, gaze locked on his, her breathing heavy and face hot. This time she didn’t fumble when he led her from the stage. He steered her out of the main flow of traffic, waving off the KJ to indicate they were done.
“I need to stop for the night.” He navigated them toward the bar again.
“If you’re getting tired.” She winced at the raw rasp in her voice.
His hand rested at the base of her neck, and her breath caught at the spark that ran though her. His thumb traced up her throat so lightly she wondered if she was just imagining it. His voice was low, and a current of something she couldn’t identify lined his teasing. “Thanks. My voice is a little worn out.”
She nodded at the empty table behind him where his friends had been sitting at the beginning of the night. “I think you were abandoned.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket and with a few swipes, showed her the screen. It was another message from T. Bailing. Tables are calling my name.
“Did you see that come in?” That meant no one was waiting on him now. And the message had a time stamp of almost two hours ago. So had he intentionally given them some alone time? The realization heated her further.
He shrugged and pocketed the device. “I was having fun.”
“You’ve got a nice voice.” Why had she said that? Of all the witty, flirty, intelligent things she could have come up with, a weak nicety passed her lips instead. The fact that his hand still rested on her neck must be short-circuiting her thoughts.
He tilted closer, stopping when his head was just inches from hers. “I was going to say something similar.” He was near enough the faint spice of his aftershave filled her head again. “You’ve got incredible vocal cords.” He dipped his head, hot breath brushing her ear.
The haze of the song still enveloped her. His nearness pushed a wave of want through her, and the suggestion in his very movement clenched in her belly and traveled lower. His breath on her skin enhanced her already rampant fantasies.
“I’ve got other skills besides singing.” Instead of the seductive innuendo she’d intended, her voice came out as a shy whisper, and she hid a cringe.
“I bet.”
She realized she was leaning into him and didn’t pull away. Hesitation thrummed through her at what she was about to do, but this was one of those moments she couldn’t let get away from her. A random, foolish, completely tempting, once-in-a-lifetime chance. “Do you ever think about the lyrics when you sing along?”
His brows rose, question dancing in his expression. “Sometimes…”
She tried to be subtle about taking a deep breath. It had been ages since she’d worried this much about the words coming out of her mouth. She forced a wash of courage through her veins and let the question roll. “It makes me wonder what it would be like to make love while the sun sets over the city.”
She’d managed to ask without her voice cracking. Slick need ached between her thighs. A tiny nagging in the back of her head pointed out this might not be her best idea ever. Something about being neighbors at the tradeshow, and working for competing companies.
Which was laugh-worthy. There was no way she wanted to walk away from a chance like this.
A frown crossed his face, and her gut sank. “I’m from out of town.”
That doesn’t sound like a no. And his hands still rested at her waist. “We met in a hotel. So am I.”
“I don’t do things like this.” His words didn’t match his actions. His eyes stayed locked on hers, and his palm slid toward her back, drawing her closer.
“Duets in karaoke bars?” She let her growing hope keep her question light. Even his low, smooth tone made her think he was more interested than his words indicated.
His breathing quickened. “One-night stands.”
“Me neither.” She risked stepping closer, and her pulse threatened to race away when his thumbs pressed into her hips, holding her captive. “But I figure sometimes you have to make an exception.”
His fingers stroked small circles along her back. “I don’t make exceptions, either.”
Then she wasn’t the only one this was a night of firsts for. The idea sent tingles from her fingers, through her entire body, and down to her toes. She dipped her head in. He smelled incredible up close, like musk and fresh rain. She let herself fall into the scent as she whispered, “That’s why it’s called an exception. Because you don’t normally do it.”
His lips moved along her neck, never touching her, but making her blood roar in response. “You make a good case. And I’ll admit, you’re absolutely intoxicating.”
No one had ever described her like that before. Something between a giggle and a sigh bubbled up inside, and she swallowed it back. Don’t lose it now. “So what’s stopping you from sating the curiosity?”
His mouth twisted into a hungry smile that stole the last of her reason. “Nothing, apparently.”
Chapter Three
Jared brushed his lips over hers, and she leaned into the kiss without hesitation. The ordered part of his brain twitched that he couldn’t get a solid read on this woman. In the few short hours they’d known each other, she’d been demure, confident, sarcastic, and removed. No one had that many variables so close to the surface. On top of that, she’d never stopped being sexy. Her black pixie-cut hair with a red streak, the off-the-shoulder shirt and corset combination highlighting the curves underneath, and the skirt ending a few inches above her knees drove his imagination wild.
And the way her tongue darted into his mouth completely disassembled his thoughts. His blood pressure increased another notch when a smooth metal ball rolled along the inside of his mouth. The fabric of her corset teased his fingertips, and the intoxicating scent of lemon and plum still drifted from her. His mouth watered at the thought of running his tongue up the long curve of her neck. Seeing if her skin felt more like silk or the suede tempting his palms.
He didn’t have time for this. He had pressing problems to solve, and her what the hell attitude was as disconcerting as it was contagious. Except, for the first time in he couldn’t remember how long, this moment was the only thing he wanted to focus on.
He dropped into a nearby stool and tugged her closer. She slid between his legs without hesitation, fingertips digging into his chest and soft gasps tearing from her throat. He glided his hands down her back and rested them on her ass. She pushed even closer, brushing his cock through his jeans. Jesus, he wanted more.
He trailed his nose up her neck, inhaling the sharp scent making every one of his senses sing. It took the last of his restraint, and the intense knowledge they were in a public place, not to push her skirt out of the way, bend her over the bar, and slide inside her. What was wrong with him? Tempted to misbehave just because he was a little turned on?
No way was he walking away now. Every gasp and moan whispering from her stole more of his reason. She was different—unrestrained didn’t begin to describe her—and his senses begged for more than just a taste. He grazed his teeth along her ear, nipping at her lobe. “I should warn you now, if we
keep going I won’t want to stop. Hell, I already don’t want to stop.”
Her tiny laugh ended with a sigh when he traced up her collarbone with his tongue. The faint salt of perspiration mingled with the velvet of her skin. Another tick in her favor—his bluntness didn’t seem to faze her. He needed to get some of these clothes out of the way. She rubbed against him, her response quiet. “I’m not letting you strip me down in the middle of a bar.”
If he asked nicely, would she? He couldn’t hold back his smirk as inspiration struck. “We could go back to my room.”
“Or we could sneak off into one of the practice rooms they have.”
Her breathy suggestion glitched his thoughts, but reason wriggled its way in. “You think they’re not going to know exactly why we’re going back there?”
She stepped back as far as was possible without breaking the contact between them, and her lower lip jutted out. “Does it matter?”
He wanted to kiss that pout away, then run his lips lower along her collarbone and dip between the curve of her breasts. Fuck propriety. At least for the next hour or so. He waved the bartender over and dropped a bill on the counter. “We want one of the sound rooms to warm up in.”
He received an electronic key card and a raised eyebrow in return, but no comment. He tugged Mikki away from the main stage. As they passed the bathroom, something occurred to him. Convenient. He pressed her against the wall, using the dark corner to block them mostly from view. He ran his hand up the back of her leg, pushing up the hem of her skirt.
“And you were worried about what people would say,” she teased as she squirmed under his touch.
He tangled his fingers in her hair and crushed his lips to hers. When he broke the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Fifteen seconds. I’ll be right back.”
Pink flooded her cheeks. “I’ll give you twenty and then I’m leaving.”
He chuckled at the joking threat, ducked into the bathroom, and returned twelve seconds later—he’d counted—with protection.
“You’ve thought of everything.”
He nudged her toward the sound room. “Not everything, but I’ve got a head full of starting places to pick and choose from.”
The room was barely big enough for a bench and table mounted to the wall, a microphone, a screen in another wall, and a computer keyboard to let people make their play selections.
Is this place as clean as it looks? How many other people have had this same idea?
Her pelvis ground against his cock and shoved the nagging questions aside. He’d never been with a woman who was this kind of bold. His imagination was already careening out of control with the filthy things he wanted to do to her. He could overlook invisible germs. The space was small, but it was all they needed.
He twirled her so her back was to him and pulled her close again. Her warm figure pressed into him cranked his internal temperature several notches. He undid the hooks on the front of her corset and kissed along the back of her neck. The heady scent of citrus sang to his senses and filled him with a longing to feel every inch of her at once.
He tugged the bottom of her shirt out of her skirt. Every time her ass shifted, the friction made him harder. It was going to be difficult to be patient with her. He rested his palms on her bare stomach. Her skin was smoother than the silky texture he’d imagined. Warm and eager beneath his touch.
Her every sound tugged at his gut every time he touched her someplace new, making him want to hear more. He moved one hand higher, fingers brushing the bottom of her breast through her bra. His head swam at the thought of what was hiding under her skirt. He kissed the edge of her ear. “Are your panties the same black lace as your bra?”
To her credit, she didn’t ask how he knew. So, somewhere around the third or fourth song, she’d consciously undone the top two hooks on her corset, exposing a hint of lace as she’d traced her finger along the neckline of her blouse. Instead she pushed into him again. “I guess you’ll just have to find out for yourself.”
The attitude made his blood scream. He needed to be buried inside her. But first things first. He shoved her bra up, and she whimpered when the elastic brushed her nipple, followed closely by his fingers. He tweaked the hard nub between his fingers, tugging and pinching in response to her panting.
That sound was intoxicating. He moved his other hand to her other breast, squeezing both mounds. She ground into him in rhythm to his massaging, her gasps growing more punctuated with each movement. Was her frantic grinding enough to get him off? It was tempting to find out, but her pleasure came first. Always.
He couldn’t help but smirk when his hands fell away and she let out a whimper of disappointment. It melted into a gasp seconds later as he trailed his fingers down her back. Friction built between his palms and her thighs when he pushed up the hem of her skirt. The slick leather was a sharp contrast to her warm skin beneath. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. It was true, he wasn’t new to the idea of a one-night stand, but they were all but in public, and there were no ground rules around the encounter.
He didn’t want to walk away though. She was different from the women he dated. He didn’t know anything about her besides her name, and that she had a fascination with incorrect tech articles. She had stepped onto the stage with such abandon. Hadn’t caved under his attention, but made the most delicious noises as she yielded to his touch.
She pressed into him with more force when he dipped his fingers under the thin elastic holding up her panties. He glided down her slit, moisture coating his fingers before he even slipped between her folds. A groan tore from his chest. “You’re so wet already.”
She arched her back, head resting on his shoulder. His teeth sank into her bare shoulder, each twist of her body sending an exquisitely painful dagger of want through him. A loud gasp echoed through the room when he brushed a swollen nub between her legs. She rocked against his hand as he traced circles around her clit, growing tighter each with pass until she was bucking under his attention, breath coming in short bursts.
Her back went rigid, and she pressed hard into his hand as a final, soft cry tore from her throat, and a shudder racked her body when she came.
She wobbled, still panting. He laid a line of soft kisses along her neck, and then down her spine through her shirt. Hooking his thumbs into the elastic of her panties, he dragged them down her legs. “They are black. Lucky me.”
She let out a small laugh as she stepped out of the lingerie. “Glad I didn’t disappoint.” And there was her attitude. It made him as hard as the thought of burying himself inside her did. She spun to face him and plucked the panties from his hand, a teasing gleam in her eyes. She stepped close enough to rub her entire frame against him. Her hand slid along his waist, and she stuffed the lingerie in his pocket. “In case the memory of tonight isn’t enough of a souvenir for you.”
What made someone so tantalizingly bold? No, he didn’t need to know, as long as she didn’t stop. He tangled his fingers in her hair again, barely able to grasp the short strands. He pressed his forehead to hers, not able to keep the hunger from his voice. “Trust me, the memories are already enough to keep me company for a while. But when you walk out of here, at least I’ll know it’s without anything on under your skirt, the cool air brushing your skin, reminding you why you’re so wet.”
“Good thing I packed extra.” She tilted her head and nipped at his bottom lip before kissing him.
A twinge pinged deep inside at the reminder this was only a one-time thing.
He shoved the thoughts aside, more interested in the moment. His tongue danced with hers, the smooth metal of her barbell stroking him as he guided her the short distance to the table behind her. Hands on her hips, he lifted her to sit on the edge.
She never broke the kiss when he shoved his knee between her thighs and forced her legs apart. Her skirt crept higher up her hips as he stepped closer. His chest was tight from the shallow breaths he drew. The hammering of his pulse in his ears block
ed out every sound not associated with her, and his tongue wanted another taste of her. Of that silver ball that teased him as effectively as her words did.
Her fingers trailed down his stomach, and she only fumbled with his belt and button for a moment before opening his pants. He growled when her cool fingers wrapped around his warm shaft, freeing it. He nudged forward, and she scooted back, breaking away from him. Teasing eyes met his, and her hand slipped into his pocket. She plucked out a condom. He’d been getting to that, but at least she wasn’t completely careless. Apparently, she could get sexier.
Seconds later she had it unwrapped. He groaned at the light sensation as she rolled the rubber onto his cock. The moment she was done, he dug his fingers into her hips and thrust forward. Her cry mingled with his when he pushed inside her.
“You’re so tight.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “So slick.”
Her knees hooked on his hips, and she yanked him closer, nails gliding down his back.
The buildup had already drawn him close to the edge, and he wasn’t going to last much longer buried inside her. She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand up. He took the hint, finding her breast and stroking his thumb across the rigid peak. He kissed along her neck, the soft scent of her shampoo stealing his oxygen.
She matched his pace as he slammed into her depths. God, she was incredible. Her breathing grew shallow again, and this time he knew she was close to orgasm. The thought was enough to draw his own arousal to a peak. She didn’t slow down as she climaxed, milking his cock and squeezing him until he burst. Endorphins raced through him, stealing the rest of his reason and plunging him completely into the moment. He grunted when he came, biting her shoulder and not stopping until he was spent.
She rested her forehead on his chest, breathing heavy, her laugh warm through his shirt. “I’ve never been the lucky lady to come to the rescue of a helpless businessman in a karaoke bar before.”
Breaching His Defenses (Love Hack #1) Page 3
