“You remembered mine,” I responded drolly.
She chuckled. “Vanessa missed part of my name. It’s Charlynn.”
“Pretty.”
She shrugged. “A mouthful.”
“Maybe I’ll stick to Red. It’s easier.”
She didn’t say anything or object. We studied each other, our gazes locked in silence. Up close, she was even prettier than I’d thought. Her wide eyes were intelligent and warm. Her lips full and pink. Kissable. She was dressed casually, but her green T-shirt set off her hair and eyes. It pulled tight across her high breasts, dipping low in the front to show her cleavage. The freckles on her face were more than a small smattering, extending down her neck and arms, little trails of cinnamon over her ivory skin. She was extremely sexy, and I felt an odd draw to her. I had to admit, I had felt it the moment she ran into me.
And now, she was flirting with me.
“You gonna give me my hand back?” she asked.
I looked down, shocked to realize I was still holding it.
“You gonna tell me why these hands need to be registered as a lethal weapon this week?” I responded, then mentally kicked myself.
Why did I want to know that? And why was I flirting back?
She looked down at our hands, slowly pulling hers away. She sighed, taking a drink of wine. “It’s been a bad week.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t getting personal.”
She glanced to the side, her eyes dancing. “No, I don’t mind telling you. I’m just not sure how you’re going to take it.”
I leaned one elbow on the bar, facing her. “Try me.”
Ten minutes later, I was laughing so hard, I could barely sit on my stool. Her story about her asshole of a landlord and how she handled him was brilliant. When she got to the part about the beer, then the mouse, I lost it. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed that hard. She didn’t tell me what led up to the altercation, and I knew she wasn’t giving me the entire story, but what she had shared was priceless. I had a feeling this was a girl who would keep a man on his toes.
I wiped my eyes. “So, now what?”
She shrugged. “I have a new job. A new beginning, far away from Toronto and that creep.”
I sipped my beer, still chuckling. “Good plan. Anything interesting?”
Her eyes danced. “I’m going to take care of an elderly gentleman. He needs a lot of help.” She leaned close, her voice dropping, those dimples deepening as she beamed. “He’s a bit grumpy, a curmudgeon, I think, but I can handle him. Easy peasy.”
“I bet you can.” I paused. “You like older men, Red?”
“You mean like you?” she responded, teasing. “What are you—thirty-five?”
“Close. Thirty-seven.”
She shrugged. “Age is a number. That doesn’t bother me.”
I had no idea why that news pleased me.
“I’m twenty-five,” she offered. “I feel older most days. Like I said, just a number.”
I asked her some questions about Toronto, and she responded with witty comments, making me chuckle more. She asked about the area, and I told her what I knew. I resisted asking her if she would be returning.
I wasn’t looking to start anything. I pushed aside the fact that I found her pretty, intelligent, and funny. I liked the way she spoke, meeting my eyes directly, using her hands to emphasize something. On occasion, I would catch a whiff of her perfume when she moved her head or pushed back her hair. It was light and citrusy—not overpowering or heavy. Her eyes fascinated me; the odd shade of green seemed to deepen to almost gray at times, depending on her emotion. I had never seen eyes like that.
Often, our knees pressed together, the warmth seeping into my skin. She was a toucher. My arm, hand, shoulder. Once, she brushed my cheek, showing me a small spot of ketchup I had missed earlier. My skin felt as if it were on fire where her fingers touched me.
She suddenly yawned, covering her mouth, her eyes wide. “Holy moly, I should get back to the motel. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”
I didn’t ask where she was going. It was none of my business. But I stood. “I’m parked by the motel. I’ll walk you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
Eyeing her diminutive stature, I lifted an eyebrow. She was tiny in my eyes. “Maybe I was hoping you’d protect me.”
She tossed her red hair, the color catching the light. “That makes more sense.”
I waved to Vanessa and followed Red from the bar. Outside, it was quiet, the streets mostly deserted. I was surprised to see it was past ten. I had been sitting talking to her for over two hours. We turned in the direction of the motel, neither of us in a hurry.
“Wow, you really see the stars out here.”
I glanced up with a nod. “Yeah, it’s clear.”
She sighed. “Not in Toronto. Sometimes the smog is easier to see through, but they are never like that.”
We were close to the motel when it happened. She was so busy staring up, she missed a small divot, and with a gasp, fell forward. I bent fast, grabbing her around the waist and stopping her from hitting the pavement. I yanked her up tight to my chest.
“Okay there, Red?”
She stared up at me, her eyes wide. Her cheeks were flushed—from the wine or the scare of almost falling, I wasn’t sure. But for some reason, I loosened one arm and ran my fingers down her cheek. The skin was soft and supple. The air around us became warm. Heated. My heart rate picked up. Charlynn’s breathing became deeper, her chest pressing into mine.
“You are beautiful,” I murmured.
“You’re really tall,” she breathed out.
I couldn’t help my chuckle. “I am.”
“And so sexy.”
I lifted one eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Like magnets, our heads were drawn together. I bent as she lifted up on her toes, our mouths hovering, tasting each other through our heavy breathing.
My lips ghosted over hers, feeling the full lushness of her mouth tremble.
Hers pressed up, seeking, warm, and tender.
I slid my tongue along her bottom lip, teasing, light. Testing.
She whimpered, reaching up her hand to fist my T-shirt, bringing me in closer.
Our mouths fused together.
And the rest of the world ceased to exist.
Chapter 6
CHARLYNN
His mouth. His wicked, talented, sexy mouth. I had been staring at it all night. When he smiled, Reynolds was the sexiest man I had ever seen. He had a stern, frosty air about him. But when he relaxed, his entire countenance changed, and the sexy, dangerous edge melted away, leaving only a charismatic, intriguing man behind. The way he had laughed when I told him my story, his eyes wide, teeth gleaming white against the tan of his face, he had taken my breath away.
When he had appeared by my side while that idiot had been hassling me, I was annoyed since I had the situation well in hand. But he let me lead, assisting me, and adding only his quiet strength. Sitting beside him after, sharing a drink and talking, I felt as if he was really listening. His gaze was focused entirely on me, and he asked the right questions, letting me know he wasn’t simply putting in time. I felt strangely safe next to him, his massive frame blocking out the people behind him. I was fascinated watching the way his muscles flexed as he moved. How his biceps bunched and rippled when he lifted his glass or used his hands to make a point as he spoke. Up close, I could see the richness of his dark eyes, but I noticed that, even relaxed, they were wary. He held himself tense, his shoulders ramrod straight, his expression guarded at times. When he had spoken to that asshole Wes, his low voice, growly and rough, had sparked something primitive inside me. Not usually drawn to broody men, I was surprised.
But now, wrapped in his strong embrace, his lips on mine, there was no wariness. He held me tight, his arms a cage around me, pressing me into his hard, muscular chest. He slanted his lips, going deeper, a possessive, dangerous edge
to his kisses that somehow turned me on even more than I thought possible. His tongue stroked along mine, seeking, exploring. He lifted me into his arms, and I wrapped my legs around his hips. I felt the cold metal of the truck we’d been standing beside hit my back as his kisses deepened, and I drowned in the sensations he brought forth in me. My nipples hardened against the rough feel of his chest; my body felt as if it was on fire, aching with desire. My clit strummed against the fabric of my jeans, desperate to feel him, and I felt myself growing wet for him. I slid my fingers into his short hair, pulling at the silky strands and playing with the nape of his neck.
He dragged his mouth from mine, his beard scratching my skin as he moved to my ear. “Tell me to stop.”
I gripped him tighter. “No.”
“Then take me to your room.”
I tipped up my head, meeting his dark stare. His gaze was riveting, passionate. His lips were wet from mine.
“I don’t do this.”
“Neither do I,” he retorted. “This is not my style. But I want you.” He rolled his hips, leaving me no doubt as to his want. His erection was huge, pressing against me, cranking me higher.
He was right. I wanted him as well. It was only one night. Then I would leave this town and go find a new life.
Why not?
“It’s the last room on the corner.”
I tried not to giggle as he stepped away from the truck and headed to the motel, keeping me wrapped around him. Teasing, I bit his ear, licking the shell. I grinned as he shivered, liking his reaction to me. “I’m on the pill,” I whispered.
“I have condoms.”
“Always prepared, like a Boy Scout?” I murmured, tamping down the pang of jealousy that flashed through me at the thought of him using a condom with another woman.
“Habit, I suppose,” he replied. “Haven’t used one in a long time.”
I liked that response and rewarded him by licking his neck and nibbling on his skin. He groaned low, smacking my ass as he carried me across the parking lot, sticking to the shadows. “Get your key ready, woman. We need to get inside your room.” He paused. “So I can get inside you.”
I had my key out by the time we reached the door. Inside, he stepped around my flower-covered suitcase and tossed me on the bed. He stood over me, his chest heaving, his eyes dark and intense.
“Lose the shirt,” I whispered.
He tossed it over his head, sliding his hand down his torso and flipping open the button of his jeans. His erection strained against the material, hard and massive. I slid closer, running my hands up his stomach and chest. He was taut, firm, chiseled. Every muscle defined, his jeans hanging low enough to show me the start of that sexy V. I slid my fingers over his bulge, hefting it in my hand.
“This all for me?”
His eyes rolled back in his head, and he sank his fingers into my hair, drawing me close. Teasingly, I nudged at him with my nose. “Maybe I need an introduction.”
He stepped back, tugging down his zipper, the sound of the teeth opening a low metallic growl in the room. With a push, his jeans fell to the floor, his erection springing free. It hit his stomach, hard, long, and perfect.
“Holy moly,” I whimpered. “Good thing you have condoms, because the ones I left behind never would have fit.”
For a moment, he stared, then threw back his head in laughter. I giggled as he yanked me to my feet, kissing me, tugging off my clothes, throwing them behind him. He teased me with his hands, caressed my skin as he uncovered it, moaning.
“I wondered how many of these little dots you had all over your skin,” he murmured, licking his way down the path of freckles on my arm. “So sexy.”
“They’re everywhere,” I groaned.
He met my gaze, lifting his eyebrow. “Is that a fact? I look forward to finding them all.”
He had me back on the bed before I could blink. We became a mass of writhing limbs, seeking hands, and hot, wet mouths. He liked having his nipples sucked. He moaned low when I brushed my mouth over his stomach and wrapped my hand around his erection. He shouted when I licked the crown, teasing him with my tongue. He rolled me over.
“Later,” he promised.
I swore he discovered every one of my freckles. Licked and kissed them all. Nibbled on my neck, laved my breasts, cupping them in his hands and teasing the nipples with his tongue until they were hard and aching. He slipped his hand between my legs, circling my clit, groaning in my ear.
“You’re so wet for me, Red. I love it.”
He slid on a condom and hovered over me. There was a glint in his dark gaze, a hesitation I didn’t expect. I lifted my face to his and kissed him. “Please.”
He stared at me, the most profound expression on his face. He was a study in contrasts. His mouth curled into a wicked smile, his facial expression filled with desire, but his eyes were unsure, almost vulnerable. An odd thought flashed through my mind.
This man has been hurt. Badly.
A wave of tenderness ran through me.
“Please,” I whispered again. “I want you so much.”
He sank inside me, his gaze never wavering. His eyes lost that vulnerable look, becoming darker, sexier as he slid in inch by inch until we were flush. He dropped his forehead to mine.
“Jesus,” he moaned.
“God needs to wait,” I begged. “Move, Reynolds. Take me.”
And he did.
He drove into me powerfully, the feeling of him immense and satisfying. He braced one hand on the headboard, the other on my hip, gripping me tightly. The bed creaked under his aggression, the headboard slamming against the wall repeatedly. I came almost immediately, and he hissed in pleasure as I gripped him, my muscles fluttering in pleasure.
“Yes, choke my cock, baby. Take it. There’s going to be more—I promise.”
His dirty words only made me hotter. He captured my mouth, kissing me deeply, his tongue thrusting in time with his hips. He sat up, lifting my hips, pulling me tight as he continued to pound into me. I gripped the sheets, trying to find purchase before he drove me right into the headboard.
He pulled out, and I whimpered, then gasped as he flipped me as easily as if he were lifting a feather. He dragged me up to my knees and sank back inside me. I groaned at the sensation of being claimed. Possessed. He was buried so deep inside me, I was stretched full. Still, he moved, groaning and powerful. He bent over my back, his body hard and pressing, but welcome. He cupped my breasts, stroking my stomach, whispering in my ear. Dirty words, sweet endearments, pleading gasps, all fell from his mouth.
“You are so beautiful.”
“I love how you strangle my cock.”
“Jesus, you feel as if you were made for me.”
He kissed my neck, licked my ear, bit gently at the juncture of my shoulder, then slipped his fingers down and stroked my clit.
“Come for me again, Red. Let me hear you.” He pressed harder. “Let me feel you.”
I cried out, my body exploding in ecstasy. I gripped the pillow under me, screaming into it, pushing back against him. He thrust again, then stilled, sitting back and taking me with him as he moaned and cursed. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me tight to his chest, burying his face in my shoulder. Weakly, I lifted my arm, wrapping it around his head, stroking the sweat-soaked skin on his neck.
Moments passed with him holding me, not speaking. He turned his face, kissing my neck, his voice low in the room.
“Are you all right, Red?”
I drew in a shaky breath. “I’m good.”
“I lost myself with you. Was I too rough?”
I shook my head. He had been forceful and in control, but I never felt threatened or hurt. Even when he was at the height of his passion, his touches had been controlled, even gentle at times. “No,” I replied. “You were perfect.”
His arms tightened, and I felt his smile against my skin. “You were the perfect one.”
Carefully, he laid me down, and we separated. I rolled onto
my side, and after discarding the condom, he did the same, facing me. He pulled me close, then laid his heavy arm over my waist, holding me. I liked the feeling. He made me feel…protected.
I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t have any experience to draw on. I’d never met someone and had sex with them the same night. A giggle burst from my lips, and Reynolds frowned.
“What?”
I decided to be honest. “I’ve never done this before—ever. I’m not sure what’s supposed to happen next.”
His chuckle made me smile. “I’m your first pickup, Red? I’m honored.”
I slapped his chest, and he caught my hand and kissed it. “This isn’t my usual style either, but—” he sighed and pushed back my hair “—I don’t think you’re a usual sort of woman. At least, not mine.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Yes.”
I wanted to ask him about the pain in his eyes. But somehow, I knew he’d shut down.
“So, ah, what happens next?”
He rolled, keeping me close and bending his other arm under his head as he stared at the ceiling. “You can tell me to leave. You can ask me to stay. It’s up to you.”
I knew what I wanted. I hoped he wanted the same thing. I traced my finger down his chest, stroking it across his flat, hard nipples, then descending lower to his stomach. I teased the muscles, slowly drifting lower. “If you stayed, then what?”
“I’d fuck you again. A few times.”
“You can do that at your age?” I teased.
“Not a problem,” he growled. “You want more? It’s yours.”
“Well, that settles it. You’re staying, big man.”
His chest rumbled, and for the second time that night, I found myself trapped under his heavy body.
“Good choice, Red. Good choice.”
I woke up alone. Slowly, I sat up, squinting at the clock on the night table. It was almost seven. The last time Reynolds had woken me up, it had been five. He had taken me differently that time—slow and gentle, rocking into me from behind, his voice low and gruff as he brought me to a powerful climax. He had kissed me for a long time after, then slipped from bed. Exhausted, I had fallen back asleep, assuming he would return. I recalled the sound of a door closing in my sleep-addled mind—and I realized he had probably never returned to the bed, but left quietly, saving us both the awkwardness of a long goodbye in the morning.
Revved to the Maxx Page 5