Not My 1st Rodeo

by Donna Alward

  “You did? Your sister again?”

  “Hardly. I’d rather keep her out of my business. A friend of mine. Who has a wife. I made sure she confirmed his advice for what to wear.”

  She laughed lightly. “They sound like nice friends.”

  “They are,” he agreed. “The best.” He and Austin had been in some good scrapes together. Brett had three sisters. Austin was the closest thing he had to a brother.

  The waitress returned with his whiskey and menus, and for a few minutes, they pondered what to order.

  “What’s good?” he asked. “I’m guessing you’ve been here before?”

  She nodded. “Only a few times. My favorite is the gnocchi, but you might want something more…meaty. I’ve had the thyme chicken. It’s lovely.”

  He went with the chicken, because he had the sudden idea that eating anything with linguini or any type of long pasta could get messy. After they ordered, bread came, followed by a house salad. By the time the entrees were delivered, his whiskey was gone, Melly had accepted the second glass of wine and they were chatting easily about work.

  It was easy. Almost too easy, Brett realized. In between bites, Melly told funny stories about her high school students and the pros and cons of teaching that particular age group, which led to sharing a few tales of their own teenage years. They ordered coffee and Melly suggested dessert to share, and they agreed upon the dark chocolate roulade. Her eyes had lit up when she saw the dessert menu, and the decadent choice didn’t disappoint. Watching her put the spoon in her mouth and close her eyes with appreciation made his brain shift forward to the next part of the date…if there was, indeed, a next part.

  He wanted there to be.

  Brett put down his spoon, no longer hungry, and fixed his gaze on her face. There was something about her that drew him in. Maybe it was the way she smiled, or the softness in her eyes that put him at ease. And he was certain that she had no idea of the innate sexiness she possessed. There was a grace to the way she moved, a certain something that caught a man’s eye and kept it.

  “I’m so full,” she announced, licking the last of the chocolate off the spoon. “I made a complete pig of myself and I can’t find it in me to be sorry.”

  Several comments rushed through Brett’s mind—about licking the spoon, about needing her energy for later—but he didn’t say them. Instead, he reached across the table and took her hand in his, twining their fingers together.

  She looked surprised, and then a little bit pleased as she held his gaze.

  “What would you like to do now?” he asked, rubbing his thumb over the top of her hand.

  “Oh. Well…” She hesitated and then smiled. “What would you like to do, Brett?”

  He measured his words. He was quite good at self-editing when he put his mind to it. “For starters, I’d like to kiss you again.”

  Something flickered in her dark eyes. Desire? Awareness? Whatever it was, he liked it.

  “Brett,” she said, her voice low.

  “You asked,” he reminded her, smiling a little. “But whatever comes next is up to you. If you want me to take you home and call it a night, that’s okay. It’s been great spending the evening with you.” In his head, he knew there was a benefit to taking things slowly. It didn’t mean he necessarily wanted to.

  “A drive home would be fine,” she answered, and he tried to quell the disappointment he felt at the simple words. Maybe Manda had been right. Maybe he had been licking his wounds for too long. It was possible it was past time he got back into the dating world again.

  Melly gripped her clutch purse tightly as they made their way out of the restaurant into the spring evening. Brett took her hand as they walked to the parking garage, and she thought about his last words. He wanted to kiss her again—for starters. What else did he have in mind? Did she want the same thing?

  He opened the door to his truck and she hopped in, tucking her skirt around her legs and fastening her seatbelt. They were going back to her place. And she’d have to decide whether to leave him at the door or invite him in. She knew what she wanted. She just didn’t know if it was the smart move.

  Brett eased the truck out of the garage and back on to the street. With the radio playing softly in the background, she gave him directions, and soon they were heading north. It would only take a few minutes to reach her apartment. Minutes that seemed to go by so fast and yet so slowly.

  “Take a left at the next set of lights,” she instructed softly, her hands fidgeting in her lap. Brett was not interested in a serious relationship. She knew that. She was looking for something permanent…eventually. But maybe not yet. She’d done a crap load of thinking over the course of the week and she’d realized it wasn’t fair to pin a prospective-husband tag on someone after a date, or even two. Why couldn’t they just be in the moment and see where it led? Didn’t that make more sense?

  “Turn right, and it’s the second building on the right,” she advised. As he turned the truck into the small lot, she pointed at a few vacant spaces. “That’s visitor parking.”

  He pulled into the spot and put the truck in park, then killed the engine. When she would have reached for the door handle, he put his hand on her left arm.

  “Wait,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I’ll get it.”

  With her stomach in knots, Melly waited as Brett hopped out and went around the hood of the truck to open her door. He held out his hand and she took it. She got out gingerly and reached back for her clutch.

  “No big handbag tonight, huh?”

  “Not tonight,” she said, a little bit breathless as she faced forward again and found herself close to his broad chest.

  They started walking to the door of the building, and Melly’s nervousness ratcheted up several notches. Should she say goodnight at the door? Invite him in? If she did, would he make assumptions? Damn it, wasn’t dating supposed to be fun? Instead, she felt as though she were walking through a field of landmines, afraid to take a step unless it was a mistake.

  Brett stopped at the main door and waited. She was glad. He wasn’t assuming anything and that helped. “Thank you for dinner,” she murmured and then ran her tongue over her lips that suddenly seemed dry.

  “It was nice,” he replied and put his hand on her wrist, squeezing lightly. “And nice to spend time with you again.”

  She looked up. The tension sizzled between them, the elemental attraction that she simply couldn’t deny existed. Was it so wrong to want to enjoy it? Maybe the whole narrow-down-the-search thing had been a good idea at the time, but right now she didn’t want to think too far into the future. She wanted to enjoy the here and now. And right here, right now, Brett Harrison was standing in front of her, his fingers circling her wrist, his lips slightly parted and his eyes locked on hers, waiting for her to make the next move.

  “Nice is an innocuous word,” she said softly. “It was a good date, Brett. And I don’t think I want it to be over yet. Do you want to come up for a nightcap?” He smiled a little and she winced on the inside. Could she have said anything more cliché? It sounded like something a woman would say on one of the soap operas she used to watch after school…

  “I’m driving, so a nightcap might not be the best idea.”

  Disappointment and embarrassment rushed through her.

  “But I’d like to come up anyway.”

  Whoosh. There went the embarrassment and back came the nerves. The excited thrill-of-the-unknown kind. “Right. Let me get my key.”

  She dug in her purse and got her key, and after she unlocked the door, Brett held it open, letting her through. They did the same at the inner security door and then she led the way to the stairs. “No elevator,” she explained quietly. “But I’m only on the third floor.”

  Their shoes made scuffing noises on the industrial-grade carpet that covered the hall and stair steps. There wasn�
�t another sound in the building as they made their way to her apartment door. Her hand shook as she put the key in the lock and the door swung open.

  She reached for a light switch while Brett closed the door behind them.

  “Nice place,” he said quietly, and she took a deep, steadying breath.

  “Thanks. Come on in.” There, that sounded calm, didn’t it? Her heels clicked on the ceramic tile of the entry as she put her purse down on a small table. “It’s not very big, but there’s just me.”

  She put on a smile and turned around. But the moment she did, the awareness seemed to overflow. Alone. Her apartment. Just the two of them. Before she could register a coherent thought, they each took a step towards each other. Brett’s strong arms came around her and lifted her to her toes while she cupped his face with her hands and kissed him.

  There was no easing into this one. It was pure, unadulterated desire that pulsed between them. “I waited all night to do that,” she said on a soft breath, stepping back and gripping the lapels of his jacket. She pushed it off his shoulders and tossed it at a chair so that it draped there, lopsided. Her busy fingers fumbled at the buttons of his shirt while he simply pulled on the tie at the waist of her dress and it fell away, the wrap-style now gaping in the middle.

  “I love that this is easy access,” he replied, his voice rich and dark. She was still working on the buttons of his shirt when he put his hand over hers and stopped her progress.

  “This is what you want?” he asked, his blue eyes piercing hers. “You’re sure?”

  There was a moment of uncertainty and she paused. “You don’t?”

  “Oh, I do,” he confirmed. “But you need to be sure. We won’t do anything you don’t want to.”

  She could see the hollow of his throat, a V-shaped slice of skin visible where she’d unbuttoned his shirt. She wanted to taste it, to touch it. She wanted to feel strong and feminine and sexy and not awkward and unsure. For some reason, Brett was able to make her feel that way. He had from the moment of the first combustible kiss.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Then, darlin’, take that off for me.” There was so much heat in his voice, she could swear her uterus contracted in simple anticipation.

  “The dress?”

  He nodded, slowly. “The dress. But you might want to leave those shoes on.”

  Melly swallowed. If that wasn’t the sexiest thing she’d heard in a long, long time… She hoped her hands steadied as she found the fabric of her dress and eased it off her shoulders, letting the silky material puddle on the floor at her feet.

  She was incredibly thankful that she’d had the foresight to wear good underwear. Her bikini panties were pale pink, with swatches of lace over the hips, and the bra matched, the plunge accentuating her cleavage. The look of bald admiration on Brett’s face told her he approved.

  “Your turn,” she instructed.

  Brett lifted first one foot and then the other, taking off his boots. Then he pulled the tails of his shirt out of his jeans and her mouth went dry as he undid the rest of the buttons, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his chest and abs. God, he was sexy. Did he realize it? She didn’t think so. There wasn’t a trace of smugness on his face. Just longing—and intent.

  “Come here,” he said, and she took the few steps necessary to stand in front of him. She put her hands inside his shirt and touched the hard warmth of his skin, loving when a muscle ticked in his jaw. Daring, she kissed the center of his chest, then slid her mouth over to flick her tongue over a small nipple, smiling when he swore under his breath.

  She put her hands at his waist, unbuckled his belt by feel alone and slid the button from the hole so that only the zip remained fastened. To her delight, Brett shrugged out of his shirt and hauled her close, the heat of his skin soft and warm against hers as they twined together.

  They kissed right there at the spot where the tile entry met the soft carpet of her living room. A little squeak came from her mouth as he picked her up and carried her to the sofa. He put her down gently and then lowered himself on top of her, his strong arms braced on either side of her head and the stiff fabric of his jeans pressed against her panties. She wrapped her leg around his hip and arched up, rubbing against him as their kisses grew more fevered. He slid down a little and bit at her nipple through her bra, and she cried out as pleasure darted through her body.

  Despite the urgency, Brett took his time until she was hot, pliant and so ready she thought she might lose her mind. He reached back into his pocket for his wallet and she saw him take out a foil packet before dropping the wallet on the floor.

  She sat up a little, put out her hand when he would have returned to the sofa. “Not here,” she said, her breath coming fast and hot. “Follow me.”

  She took his hand and led him to her room, stopping only to click on a bedside lamp, giving the room a soft, warm glow. It had been so long since she’d had sex, so long since she’d felt this carnal and beautiful. She wanted to see him. And she wanted him to see her. She helped him take off his jeans, stripped off her panties and then nudged him down on to the bed, taking the condom from his hand and putting it on him herself.

  “Mel,” he murmured.

  When she lowered herself onto him, his head went back, his eyes closed, and she hesitated a moment to enjoy the sensation of him inside her. But soon the urge to move took over and she started a slow rocking that picked up pace as his hands gripped her hips.

  “You feel so good.” She sighed, bracing her hands on his pecs. “So good.”

  “God…you…too.” His icy-blue gaze was on her, and he bit down on his lip when she gave her hips a sharp thrust. “God, woman…”

  Crazy, that was what this was. Crazy and awesome, and she let all of her inhibitions go. She bent one knee up towards his ribs, straightened the other and levered her hips, feeling the orgasm building inside. Her hands were on the pillow on either side of his head, and as she moved he caught the tip of one breast in his mouth. That was all it took to light the fuse. Two thrusts later, her world came apart, her body shuddering over his as she cried out.

  She was vaguely aware of hearing her name as Brett put one strong hand on her bottom and met her thrust for thrust. They were a tangle of limbs and sweat and sex as they came down from their climaxes, their breath harsh and satisfied in the quiet of the bedroom.

  Melly shifted, he slid out of her, and she collapsed beside him on the bed.

  “Whoa,” he said, a low sound of awe that made her feel sexy and accomplished and inordinately pleased with herself.

  “Mmm,” she replied. The cool air in the room caused little goose bumps to erupt on her damp skin.

  “I need to…uh…”

  She chuckled into the pillow. “Bathroom’s the door on the right,” she said. Funny how now that the moment was over, he was bashful. But then that was part of what she liked about him. He came across like this quiet guy, all manners and still waters, but then there was this intensity about him that hinted at the fire beneath the surface.

  And so far, she’d touched the flame and hadn’t been burned. She smiled to herself as he walked to the door, and she admired the rear view.

  He was back moments later, his hair tousled, his skin flushed. Melly remained lying on her side on the bed, her elbow under her head, still catching her breath. Brett reached for his boxers and slipped them on before joining her on top of the bedspread.

  He assumed a similar pose, propping up his head on his hand and he smiled at her. “Okay?” he asked.

  “Very okay,” she replied, moving her foot and sliding her toe along the side of his calf. “I don’t know what it is with us. It’s like we touch each other and…well, it’s like lighting a match.”

  “I know. I hope you’re not asking me to be sorry. I still feel like I’m having a slight out-of-body experience.”

  She laughed. “Me
too. That was good, Brett. Really good.”

  “I don’t usually move this fast. I mean, second date and all. Pretty sure my mama would flay me alive.”

  “You’re a bit old to be worried about your mama,” Melly laughed.

  “Are you kidding? Obviously you haven’t met mine.” But he was grinning. “Seriously though. I’d be given a lecture on respecting a woman and taking my time.” He frowned. “I’m not sure what I’m trying to say here, except this kind of thing isn’t something I make a habit of.”

  Clearly, if it was true that he hadn’t been with anyone since his divorce. Her heart melted a little bit at his consideration.

  “I wasn’t exactly taking my time either, cowboy.” She ran her fingers over his ribs. “I knew the first time you kissed me that if it came to this, it would be good. Thanks for more than living up to the expectation.”

  His eyes glowed at her. “Damn, I like you.”

  “I like you too.”

  There was another decision to be made, and that was where to go from here. Invite him to stay? The idea of waking up with him was enticing, but it might also be too soon. So far, it had been two dates and one major release of pent-up sexual energy. Yet she didn’t want him to just get up and get dressed and leave.

  “You want to stay a while? We could, you know, talk or something.”

  “Or something?”

  “Don’t you need recovery time?”

  He laughed then, a big, full laugh that warmed her down to her toes. She couldn’t help but join in. Damn, this whole thing was surreal. Just a week ago, she’d been scared he’d be a no-show at the coffee shop. It had been slightly awkward, until he’d kissed her. That had been different. That had felt right from the start. Just like tonight.

  Maybe their relationship was going to be based on sex. If that were the case, it would burn out soon enough. The idea was slightly depressing, and her laugh drifted away.