Truly, Madly, Whiskey

by Melissa Foster

  “And what about Dixie?”

  Therein lay the issue. What about Dixie?

  CRYSTAL SAW BEAR’S walls go up the minute he started talking about his family. She knew his brothers and Dixie well, but she only knew his parents in passing. She was a little worried now that she knew his father’s true feelings about a woman’s place in the world. She wasn’t exactly good at biting her tongue.

  “Let’s get out of here.” She pushed to her feet and carried the pizza box and her plate into the kitchen to wrap up the leftovers. Bear followed her in.

  “Where to, gorgeous?”

  She wound her arms around his waist and said, “Whispers.”

  Whispers was one of the busiest nightclubs in Peaceful Harbor. They’d been dealing with such heavy emotions the last few days, she hoped Whispers would be just the distraction they needed to get out of their heads for a little while.

  He groaned, kissed the kitten’s head, and set her down beside her food dish. “How about Whiskey Bro’s instead?”

  “If we go to Whiskey’s, you’ll stay in that place in your head that’s got your face pinched tight.” She slid a finger into the waist of his jeans. “I want to dance in your arms with no thoughts of anything other than you. And maybe that incredible feeling you gave me earlier.”

  His eyes darkened, and he grabbed her butt.

  She guided his hands up to her waist. “Take me dancing, biker boy.”

  “You’re not sitting on my bike in that skirt unless you want to witness me killing every man who takes an eyeful.”

  “Seriously? All my goodies will be pressed up against you. Nobody can see anything. But I’ll change to calm your jealousy. Give me a sec.”

  She headed for her bedroom, feeling the heat of his stare on her back and loving it. She changed into a pair of black leather shorts she knew he’d love and took an extra minute to fix her hair and makeup and brush her teeth.

  She strutted into the living room anticipating a hungry look in his eyes, but nothing could have prepared her for the naughty thoughts running through her mind when she found him standing with his back to her. His dark jeans clung to his powerful hips and stretched across muscular hamstrings. He’d tucked in his shirt, accentuating his broad shoulders and trim waist. She licked her lips as she approached and wrapped her arms around his middle, loving the way she was able to embrace those feelings.

  He turned, a sinful grin lifting his lips, and her mind went straight to the gutter, racing through a maze of mattress dances. Their earlier make-out session had opened some sort of vortex to her inner vixen. Images of Bear in her bed flew through her mind at breakneck speed. Gulp. She wasn’t ready for that yet. Was she?

  She wanted to be.

  She forced herself to take a step back and gain control of her runaway hormones. Motioning toward her shorts, she said, “Better?”

  “Jesus, baby. You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  He leaned in for another kiss.

  “Dancing,” she said, a little dazed, and handed him her keys. “Pocket?”

  He chuckled and pocketed her keys as they headed for the door.

  The wind whipped over Crystal’s thighs, and Bear’s abs flexed beneath her hands as they rode down to Whispers. She felt liberated, like so many of the tethers that had bound her to her past had been severed. If she could only figure out how to handle the one tie that was becoming more strained the longer she held on to her secret. Telling Gemma.

  Chapter Nine

  IT HAD BEEN a long time since Bear had been in a trendy nightclub like Whispers, where sexual tension ran as freely as beer through a tap. He tightened his hold on Crystal, searching the face of every man as they weaved through the crowd and wondering if they were the asshole who had attacked her. He knew he had to let it go, but he could be anywhere. How had she moved past it when he fought the urge to find the fucker and kill him every minute?

  Her fingers pressed into his side, bringing him back to the moment.

  Women wearing too much makeup slithered against testosterone-laden men, bumping and grinding, groping and open-mouth kissing. Crystal pushed out from beneath his arm and turned to face him. Taking his hand, she walked backward, pulling him deeper into the crowd with a predatory stare that could get an impotent man hard. Her shoulders swayed to the beat as the sea of people parted for her, making Bear wonder if she frequented the club regularly. Jealousy clawed up his spine. She was sexy as sin in those tight shorts, which had nearly made him cream his pants, and the thought of her dancing with any other guy made his blood boil.

  She stopped in the center of the dance floor, purple lights misting over her gorgeous face as she pulled him closer. Thigh to thigh, chest to chin, she moved with the fluidity of an asp and the sensual prowess of a panther in heat. Her hands slid beneath his vest, up his chest, and then over her head in a sensual dance. Her long, graceful fingers flexed with the beat as her hips rocked against him. Heat slicked down his torso, bringing the animal in his pants to the gate.

  Holy hell. He scanned the crowd, catching several guys watching her erotic show, and gave them a back-off glare.

  Bear wasn’t a dancer, and at six three, with his leather vest and tattoos, he stood out among the upscale crowd. He’d be damned if he would be outdone by some nitwit in a button-down shirt. Focusing on Crystal, he matched her rhythm. His hands moved possessively around her, drawn in to her seductive dance. She shifted, bringing his thigh between her legs, heightening the sexual tension that had been simmering between them all evening. She wound her arms around his neck, and he lowered his mouth to hers, sinking into the kiss, devouring her sweetness.

  They danced to every song, kissing and groping, the stress of their confessions pushed away. A dusky backdrop to their desires drumming with a beat all their own. Time passed in a blur of deep, sensual kisses, the oppressive heat, making their dirty dancing feel even more libidinous. He turned her in his arms, grinding against her ass, his hands moving down her ribs, over her hips, and coming to rest over her belly as he kissed her neck. Her skin was slick, salty. Delicious. She ground against his erection, her hands gripping the backs of his thighs. She turned her face, capturing his mouth with hers over her shoulder and driving him out of his fucking mind. He spun her in his arms, crushing her soft body against his hard frame.

  He was lost in their heightened state of arousal. He buried his hand in her hair, cupping the base of her skull and angling her mouth so he could intensify their kisses. Somewhere beneath the lust, beneath the greediness pushing his hips harder against her, thrusting his tongue deeper, came a foggy warning.

  He drew back, giving heed to the caution he needed to remember. Her dark eyes held him captive, full of disappointment and morphing quickly to a look of fierce determination. The music came into focus, and he recognized the provocative beat of “Way Down We Go” by Kaleo. Sensual beats climbed slowly, mounting to explosive crescendos, then dialing down to provocative vibrations before escalating again to a dominating thrum of electricity.

  Crystal guided his hands tighter around her waist, rubbing her gorgeous body against him and wreaking havoc with his control.

  She mouthed, Don’t let go, and arched back, her arms falling limply to her sides, her shoulders swaying like branches in the wind. If he let go, she would fall, and he knew it was another show of trust.

  CRYSTAL GAVE HERSELF over to the adrenaline coursing through her veins, the desire rising through her core. Bear’s penetrating gaze heated up every inch between her face to the juncture of their bodies, where his strong hands kept her anchored against him. He’d cast such threatening glares at the other men on the dance floor, she’d wondered if he’d loosen up enough to dance, but her attempt at drawing his complete attention had worked.

  She’d begun letting the music take her over like this when she was alone at night in her apartment after she’d first moved back to Peaceful Harbor. The nights when she was so restless nothing would quiet her ghosts. She’d come to Whispers
a few times with Gemma before Gemma and Tru had gotten together, but she’d never danced like this with a man. Now, as pieces of herself she’d thought she’d lost long ago sparked to life, she needed this dark, erotic release. It was another step in finding herself, trusting herself. And she knew she was safe to explore that realm with Bear.

  She grabbed hold of his leather vest, feeling his power in the press of his hands on her back, soaking in his strength as she pulled herself upright. Led by the auditory seduction, their bodies came together like the sun melted into the horizon. The music faded to a whisper, the nearly silent beat pulsing beneath her skin. Bear’s eyes blazed with desire.

  “Kiss me again.” She drew his mouth to hers, anticipating the dominant thrum of the chorus.

  He kissed her with the force of rolling thunder. She returned his efforts with fervor, her body vibrating in memory of what they’d done earlier. Her hands moved down his biceps, feeling the ridges of his muscles as he tightened his grip on her.

  When the song ended and their mouths parted, she said, “I want to keep kissing you.” Her confession came unbidden, but it was as true as true could be.

  “Not here.” His rough voice thrilled her.

  His arm circled her waist, holding her so tightly she thought he’d like to unzip his skin and tuck her inside. He plowed through the crowd, straight out the doors. Cool air rushed over her heated skin, bringing rise to goose bumps. When they stepped out of the dome of light thrown from the club, Bear hauled her against him, taking her in one toe-curling kiss after another. They stumbled, kissing their way across the pavement.

  “Where’d you learn to dance like that?” he asked.

  “Taught myself. I needed a way to destress. Just kiss me.”

  And he did. Urgent and rough, then slow and deep, in an intoxicating rhythm that made her want, and want, and want. Their hands were all over each other at once, and when they reached his motorcycle, they both stopped and stared at it. Getting on the bike meant no more kissing. She wanted to kiss! She stole a glance at Bear and knew by his grimace that he was wrestling with the same conundrum.

  He touched his lips to hers in a kiss so sweet her insides melted.

  “I love those kisses, too.”

  “Sugar, I’ve got months of kisses with your name on them.” He hugged her, kissing her until she was light-headed.

  She grabbed his vest. “You need to stop.”

  He did. Immediately.

  She banged her forehead on his chest, hating that she had a past that interfered on any level, but especially on this level. “Do you have to listen so well?”

  “Damn right I do.” He lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes with a serious expression.

  “I love that you’re careful, and I want you to be. But I meant I needed you to stop because I was so caught up in you my knees were going weak.”

  His lips curved up in appreciation. “Yeah?”

  “Yes. And I hate that the sexiness of what I meant gets lost in the worry of what you think I need. I must not know how to send the right signals. But I’ll figure it out.”

  “Trust me, babe. You’re sending all the right signals.”

  A group of guys piled out of a car a few parking spots away, and Bear pulled her closer. “Come on, let’s go back to your place, where I don’t have to watch guys leer at my woman.”

  “For a guy who says he knows he doesn’t own me, that’s a very ownerish thing to say.”

  He helped her onto the bike, ignoring her taunt.

  “How fast can you safely get us to my place?”

  “Less than ten minutes. Why?”

  “Because I want to kiss you!” She pulled him down for another kiss, and he straddled the bike, facing her, and proceeded to kiss her until every inch of her body went nearly numb. When he leaned in for another, she planted her palm on the center of his chest and shook her head.

  “One more kiss like that and I’ll fall off the bike.”

  “No kisses, then, but a massive vibrating beast beneath you.” He winked, and gave her one last quick peck. “Hold on tight, sweet girl.”

  After getting their helmets on and resituating themselves, Bear reached behind them and hauled her forward, as he’d done the other night. The engine rumbled to life, and her girly parts threw a little party. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling the waist of his jeans beneath her fingers as he pulled out of the parking lot. Her mind was still on their kisses, and her body was completely engrossed in the vibration happening down below. She wondered if it was affecting him, too, and the longer they rode, the more curious she became. As he turned into the parking lot at her apartment complex, she let her hand drift south, over his zipper. The big bulge of denim was warm. So warm. She glanced in the mirror and could tell he was smiling.

  He parked, and as she moved her hand, he placed his over it, squeezing lightly so she could feel all of him. She buried her face in his back, like a kid caught with a firecracker who hadn’t thought about the repercussions of being discovered. She felt him grow bigger beneath her palm, and her pulse sprinted, but she didn’t try to pull away. She liked this silent descent into naughtiness. She felt his fingers lace with hers and he moved her hand from between his legs. Removing his helmet, he turned toward her with a wolfish grin. For a beat they didn’t speak; she wasn’t even sure she breathed.

  He took off her helmet—because she was frozen stiff from being caught feeling him up—and said, “Want to settle any other curiosities?”

  “Um.” Yes, please. “Shall I make you a list?”

  He climbed from the bike and locked up the helmets. Then he repositioned her so she was sitting sideways on the seat. He stood between her legs and pulled her forward. The position alone made her heart race in the very best of ways. He cradled her face in his hands, bringing their mouths so close she prepared for a kiss. A hot one. Her lips parted, and she felt light-headed from the anticipation, but he just held her there, searching her eyes as if he was waiting for her to say something. What, she wasn’t sure, because all she wanted to do was plaster her mouth to his again.

  “Do I make you nervous? Standing like this?” he asked just above a whisper.

  “Only because I’m waiting for you to kiss me and you’re not doing it.”

  That earned another sinful smile. “Oh, I’m going to kiss you, baby. I’m going to kiss you until you can’t remember ever asking me to. And then I’m going to keep kissing you, until you’re so hot and bothered you can’t think straight.”

  It was all she could do to stare at him, imagining those kisses.

  “But first I’m going to spend another minute standing right here. Not kissing you.”

  “Because you like torturing me?”

  “No, sugar. Because that curiosity you’re feeling is so fucking sexy, and I want you to be even more curious.” He licked his lips, and she salivated at the sight of the slickness he left behind.

  “It’s working,” she admitted. “I’m super curious.”

  What felt like an hour later, but in reality was probably a minute, she rose from the bike, trying to get closer, and he lifted her off her feet with one arm around her waist and began walking toward the apartment.

  “Put me down,” she said, laughing.

  He eased his grip, and she slid down his body, her toes touching the ground. He tugged her up again. They laughed and kissed all the way up the stairs to the landing, where he took her in his arms and backed her up against the door, kissing her so deeply she felt it all over. She grabbed his pocket, searching for the keys and desperately wanting to feel the hard heat between his legs. He drew back long enough to dig out the keys and unlock the door. They stumbled into the apartment, and he kicked the door closed behind them. She was vaguely aware of the sound of keys hitting the floor as they tumbled down to the couch.

  He moved off of her, and she instantly missed the weight of him. She pulled him closer, and he angled his hips so they were lying side by side, her knee between his, his thigh ove
r hers.

  “Is this okay?” he asked between kisses.

  “Better than,” she panted out, pulling him in for another kiss. They kissed for a long time. Slow, loving strokes of their tongues turned to a dance of domination, then dialed back to sweet and tender. It was enough to drive her mad. She tugged at his shirt, and he gently held her hand.

  “Tell me, baby.”

  “I want to feel your skin.”

  He shrugged off his vest, tossed it on the coffee table, and untucked his shirt from his jeans. “Off?” he asked.

  Oh, how she loved that he asked. And how she hated it. It gave her time to pause, time to think, and she shook her head. “Just untucked for now.”

  The warmest expression washed over his face. He lifted his shirt around his waist and guided her hand beneath the soft cotton. That first touch should probably feel no different from touching his arm or his cheek, but there was nothing familiar about exploring this part of his body without the cover of fabric. His skin was softer than his cheek or arms or hands. Warmer. The muscles beneath were temptingly hard. Pushing her hand up his back, she felt his muscles bunch and flattened her palm between his shoulder blades. Her fingers ran over deep grooves in his skin, rough and patchy in places and slick and smooth in others.

  “Scars,” he said softly.

  She’d heard stories about how he’d gotten his nickname. “Then it’s true? Tru said you got your nickname because you wrestled a black bear?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to talk about that now.”

  She knew a thing or two about not wanting to talk about certain memories, and she let it go.

  He lowered his mouth beside her ear and whispered, “I’m yours, baby. No pressure, no expectations. You touch me when you want to touch me. You’re in total control. I want you to get used to being close to me without thinking it has to be sexual.”

  “What if I want it to be sexual?” she asked softly.

  He nipped at her lower lip. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to touch someone you’re attracted to. We’ll be as sexual as you want to be.”