While she was distracted, he stole another sip of her wine. “You know what? That’s really good. I’m excited about this job.”
She pointed at the door. “Get out and stay out!”
When we were alone again, she took a big gulp of her wine and poured some more. “I’m going to kill my parents.”
“Come on, he’s not that bad.”
“He is. You have no idea.”
“What the hell happened in that closet anyway? Are you ever going to tell me?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Nothing happened.”
“You two were in there for a full seven minutes, and you’re telling me nothing happened? He didn’t even kiss you?”
“Nope. He didn’t kiss me.” She took another drink of her wine. “We spent most of those seven minutes fighting. Now let’s talk about this beer bottle situation.”
“I’m probably making a big deal over nothing, but . . .” Bringing my fingers to my lips, I remembered his eyes on my mouth and the light-bellied feeling it gave me. “It felt kind of dirty. In a good way.”
Her eyes gleamed. “So now what?”
“Now nothing. Even if he is interested, he won’t act on it.”
“So maybe you need to act on it.”
I shook my head. “No way.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m off men, remember?”
“You’re off relationships. You’re off falling in love. You don’t have to be off the fun stuff.”
“That’s not what you said the other day,” I reminded her. “You said I couldn’t handle doing the fun stuff without falling for him.”
“Well, I changed my mind. I think this could be good for you. A test of sorts. You can prove to yourself—and to me—that it’s entirely possible to mess around with someone without falling in love with him. A sort of neighbors-with-benefits arrangement.”
“Won’t that mean I’ve lost the bet?”
“No. As long as you keep things casual, you haven’t lost.” She hesitated. “But if you can’t keep your feelings out of it, then don’t do it.”
“I think I can,” I said. “I mean, it’s not like I’m in danger of mistaking his intentions. I know exactly how he feels. Love would never even enter the picture. It would just be for fun. A good time.”
“There you go.”
“I’d still be independent.”
“Exactly, you’re just adding a dick and some orgasms.”
Laughing, I fidgeted nervously on my chair. “But how do I let him know that I’m up for it? I’ve never made the first move before.”
“Easy.” She snapped her fingers. “Get naked and set off your smoke alarm.”
I set my glass down and pulled out my laptop. “Very funny.”
“Just go out on the patio when you get home tonight,” she said with a shrug. “If he’s out there again, he’s definitely into you, and you should be brave and make a move. Sit in his lap.”
“I’ll think about it. Now let’s get some work done—I talked to Henry, and he’s totally cool with whatever we want to do. I also spoke with our chef briefly today, and she’s got some great ideas. What do you think about bourbon braised pork belly?”
We went over the ideas for each course, and Ellie took notes on what wines from each vineyard she thought would pair well with every dish. At one point, her mom and dad came in and said hello, offered a couple suggestions, and said how happy they were about the event.
We talked about how many tickets we should sell in order to keep it intimate, and what our roles would be that evening. Both of us agreed we wanted to keep it small and exclusive, a little pricier than we were comfortable with but not so expensive it was prohibitive. Ellie would talk about the wines, I’d talk about the food, and we’d oversee the servers together.
“I wonder if we could do it outside in mid-October,” Ellie said. “Do you guys have a tent? Some heaters?”
“We have a tent for the stone patio that overlooks the vineyard. We had to use it a couple times this summer because of rain. But I don’t know about heaters,” I said, making a note. “I’ll find out.”
“Why don’t I come by Cloverleigh tomorrow and we can scout out some possible locations?”
“Sounds good,” I said, pulling up my calendar. “I have a meeting with Millie at ten and then I’m at the front desk after lunch.”
Ellie checked her phone. “I don’t have any tastings until two. I’ll come around eleven?”
“Perfect.”
On the drive home, Dex refused to leave my mind. Could I really seduce him? What if he turned me down? What if he laughed at me? What if I made things so awkward between us we could never look each other in the eye again? Was it worth the risk?
Was I confident enough in myself to go after a man like Dex?
A man with experience. A man who looked at me and saw a young, innocent girl. A man who’d made my nipples hard with a look and a glass bottle.
My pulse quickened as I turned into my driveway and looked at the darkened windows of his place. It was after nine. Was he in bed already?
“I’ll just go out on the patio for one minute,” I said as I pulled into the garage. “If he’s not there, that’s that. If he is, that will be a sign from the universe that Ellie is right and I need to be brave.”
I let myself into the house and gave Piglet some love, warily eyeing the glass door to the patio. After giving her a snack, I went upstairs to change.
Brave would be easier in a cute dress.
And sexy underwear.
Twelve
Dex
The number of times today I’d thought about rubbing that beer bottle on Winnie’s lips last night was obscene.
Fuck, it was obscene that I’d done it.
Even more obscene that I’d gotten into bed and jerked off afterward, fantasizing my cock was that bottle.
I’d been mad at myself all day. I’d gone over there to fucking apologize for being a dick, and somehow I’d ended up being one again, even without putting my hands on her or saying a goddamn thing.
And what the hell was I doing out here on the patio again?
What, argued a voice in my head. Can’t a guy have a beer on his patio without feeling guilty about it?
I frowned. Sure, he could. But why did I keep thinking about her? Glancing over toward her place? Listening for her to come home after work?
It was late—where was she? Meeting some selfish prick for dinner or drinks? Would she bring him back here and share a cupcake with him ten feet from me?
Don’t mind him, I imagined her saying to some twenty-five-year-old pin-dick fuckwit who owned a Rolex and multiple pairs of plaid shorts. That’s just the grouchy old man next door. He’s harmless.
I took another long swallow to wash down the jealousy. I’ll finish this beer, I told myself, and if she doesn’t come out here, I’ll go inside and forget about her for good.
Realistically, I knew I’d probably go in and get myself off thinking about her again, but whatever.
A moment later, the light came on in her place, her sliding door opened, and she stepped outside holding a plastic pitcher. After closing the door behind her, she began to water her plants. She wore a dress tonight, something short and flowery with skinny straps that showed off her shoulders, and her hair was up. Her feet were bare, and I wondered if she’d taken off her high heels after a date.
“Hey,” I said, standing up from my chair.
“Oh, hey,” she said, giggling nervously. “I didn’t see you there.”
“We need to stop meeting like this,” I joked.
“Nah. It’s always a nice surprise.” She gave me a smile that tightened my chest. “How was your day?”
“Good. How was yours? Any double bookings?”
“No, thank heavens. It was a perfectly boring day at reception.”
“Glad to hear it.” I leaned against the brick wall. “Do you always work this late?”
“No, I’m not coming
from work just now. I was at Abelard meeting with my friend Ellie about an event we’re planning together. I’m really excited about it.”
“Tell me,” I said, happy she hadn’t been out with a guy.
She laughed nervously as she emptied the pitcher. “You don’t want to hear about that.”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
Straightening up, she turned toward me. “Okay. Want to sit down?”
I knew I should say no and get the fuck inside. But I heard myself say, “Sure. Why don’t you come sit on my patio this time? My furniture isn’t as nice as yours, but it’s my turn to host.”
She laughed and set her watering can down on the table. “Okay.”
“Can I get you a beer?”
“No, thanks.” She stopped at the edge of my little patio and gasped. “You decorated!”
“Hardly.” I glanced at the insect repellent candle. “But it’s so muggy out here after the rain last night, I knew the mosquitoes would be bad.”
“Let me turn off my light so it won’t attract them.” She hurried back to her place, switched off the light, and returned. The lights in my living room were already off, so it was completely dark except for the small yellow flame flickering on the table. I took a sip of my beer, and she crossed her legs in my direction.
“So what are you and your friend planning?”
“A wine tasting dinner,” she said, and proceeded to tell me all about it.
I listened, but I couldn’t have repeated one thing she said, because I was so conscious of her body and how close it was to mine. The way the candlelight brought out the gold in her hair. The way it might feel in my hands or trailing across my chest. I finished my beer and stared at the mouth of the bottle, wondering about the sounds she might make if I buried my tongue between her legs.
“Dex?”
I realized she’d asked me something, and I looked at her quickly. “Sorry, what?”
“God, I’ve been talking too much. I probably just bored you to pieces.”
“Not at all,” I told her. “I just got distracted for a minute.”
She glanced at the bottle in my hands. “What were you thinking about?”
The words came out before I could stop them. “Something I want to do but can’t.”
“Can’t?”
“Shouldn’t.”
A moment passed in complete silence, and I thought I’d gone too far. She stood up.
But instead of walking back to her place like I thought she might, she blew out the candle and stood in front of me. Then she reached for the bottle and set it at my feet.
I looked up at her. Without saying anything, she climbed onto my lap, one knee on either side of my thighs. I held my breath and gripped the arms of the chair.
She placed her palms on my chest. Locked eyes with me. “Something like this?”
My voice was nowhere to be found.
She leaned over and pressed her lips to the side of my neck. “Or like this?”
My cock was surging to life beneath her.
She moved one hand down to my crotch and rubbed the bulge in my jeans as her mouth swept up to my ear. “Or maybe like this?” she whispered.
My fingers curled around the edges of the plastic chair arms. “You should stop.”
“Why?”
“It’s dangerous to play with fire. And with firefighters.”
She laughed softly, switching her mouth to my other ear, nipping my earlobe with her teeth. “But it might be fun.”
I groaned as my cock continued to swell under her hand, my strength depleting with every stroke.
She kissed my cheekbone, my temple, my jaw. “Do you want me to stop?” she asked, her breath soft on my skin.
“What I want isn’t the point.”
“Then let’s focus on what I want.” She reached for the button on my jeans and I grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re too fucking beautiful to resist and too damn young for me to touch.”
“Dex.” She took my hand and brought it to her breast. “I want you to touch me.”
Beneath the thin material of her dress, her nipple was temptingly hard. I teased it with my thumb and she sucked in her breath.
With my other hand I cradled the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to mine. I slid my fingers into her hair and clenched my fist, making her gasp.
I let go of her breast and locked my arm around her waist like a thick iron chain. “This is what it’s like to be with me,” I warned her, my lips hot against hers. “I’m not gentle.”
“I don’t care,” she panted. “I want this.”
Without another word, I put my hands beneath her and stood up, taking her with me. She locked her legs around my waist and I moved quickly for the door.
Inside, I was too impatient to take her upstairs to my bedroom, so I lowered myself onto the couch. She straddled my legs again, and this time I put my hands under her dress, sliding them up her thighs and gripping her ass.
She put her hands in my hair and her tongue in my mouth and rocked her hips over mine, grinding against me. Inside a minute, she was attempting to lift my shirt over my head and I took my hands off her just long enough to whip it off and toss it aside.
“Oh, God,” she murmured, running her hands over my bare chest. “You feel exactly like I thought you would.”
“Hairy?” I pushed her dress up her thighs.
She laughed and reached between my legs. “Hard.”
This time when she undid my pants, I didn’t stop her. When she slipped her hand inside and freed my cock, I didn’t stop her. When she wrapped her fingers around me and stroked me from root to tip, I didn’t stop her.
And she didn’t stop me from easing my hand inside the edge of her underwear. Or softly rubbing my fingertips over her clit. Or slipping one finger inside her as deeply as I could. She was warm and wet, and when she began to move over my hand, my patience ran out completely. I had to get inside her.
Yanking my hand from her underwear, I grabbed her by the waist and set her down beside me on the couch. “Don’t move.”
Racing up the stairs to my bedroom, I prayed to God I still had a condom somewhere, and that it wouldn’t take me all night to find it. I panicked when a frantic rummaging through my nightstand drawer turned up nothing, but luckily, I found a stray one in the second place I looked—my bathroom travel bag. Snatching it up, I bolted back down the stairs three at a time.
She was sitting exactly where I’d left her in the dark, but suddenly I had a fierce longing to see her, to watch her come undone beneath me. I pulled the vertical blinds across the sliding glass door and switched on a lamp.
Her cheeks, already flushed, grew even more pink. She looked up at me and smiled tentatively, looking so young and beautiful I almost couldn’t go through with it.
Almost.
I dropped to my knees at her feet, reached beneath her dress, and removed her underwear. Slipping my hands under her legs, I pulled her toward me and pushed her knees apart. She gasped. “What are you doing?”
“That thing I was thinking about earlier? It was fucking you with my tongue.”
Her jaw dropped, and I lowered my head between her thighs.
She moaned as I caressed her pussy with my tongue, long slow strokes that had her hands clawing the edge of the cushions. Her taste was pure sweetness, and I devoured her like I was scared someone would take my plate away before I was finished.
“Oh my God,” she whimpered as I sucked her clit. “That feels so good. The room is spinning.”
As her sounds grew more needy, her hands moved into my hair. I slipped two fingers inside her. My cock ached with jealousy as her body tensed up and she grew even wetter. Her fingers curled into fists and she cried out with abandon as the climax shuddered through her.
The moment her hands unclenched in my hair, I stood up, shoved my pants down my legs, felt around on the floor for where I’d dropped th
e condom, and tore it open with my teeth. She watched me roll it on, her breath coming hard and fast.
Dropping to my knees again, I roped an arm around her waist and hauled her onto the floor. Stretching out above her, I positioned the tip of my cock at the warm, wet place between her thighs and eased inside her. She gasped and clutched at my shoulders.
I threw her arms above her head, pinning her wrists to the rug. “Told you I wasn’t gentle,” I growled, rocking my hips in slow but deep, hard thrusts that made her cry out with shock or pain or both.
She fought back a little, struggling to get her arms free, but I was bigger and stronger, and I took pleasure in overpowering her. I hadn’t even taken the time to get her naked, but somehow her little flowered dress only made my blood run hotter and my instincts dirtier. Had she worn it on purpose, knowing I’d be unable to resist her? For a second, I imagined coming all over that pretty dress—so that she’d never wear it again without thinking about what I’d done to her.
This was all her fault.
“You knew what you were doing.” I moved over her in a rough, unceasing rhythm.
“Huh?” She sounded breathless and confused.
“You knew just how to do it.” I changed the angle, plunging even deeper inside her. “How to make me want you this way. How to make me this hard.”
“Oh, God, Dex.” She struggled to speak. “You’re so big, it hurts.”
“Good.” I wanted to punish her for making me give in, for stealing my strength. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before coming over here in a pretty little dress and putting your hands on my cock.”
I knew I was taking a risk talking to her like that—she was so fucking young and probably not that sexually experienced—but I couldn’t help it. If she slapped my face when it was over and told me she never wanted to fucking see me again, fine. I’d deserve it.
But actually, she seemed to like it. As she got used to my size, her body relaxed and she wrapped her legs around me, rocked her hips beneath me, whispered her own dirty little words.
Yes. Fuck me. Right there. So deep.
And my favorite—I’m not sorry.
She felt so fucking good. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d wanted someone this much, or needed the release so badly.
Ignite: A Grumpy Single Dad Romance Page 12