Dancing With Danger (Danger Incorporated Book 10)

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Dancing With Danger (Danger Incorporated Book 10) Page 10

by Olivia Jaymes


  Liz leaned over to check out the photo. She wasn't super fond of pictures of herself. She didn't think she was all that photogenic, although she'd been told differently.

  Not too bad. I don't have a dopey smile on my face or anything. I've seen worse.

  Mallory's fingers hovered over the phone screen. "Do you not like it? I can take another one. Or not post it at all. I thought it was pretty good."

  "No, no. It's fine. I was just noticing the lines around my eyes. I guess I'm getting older."

  Mallory held the phone closer to her face. "We all are and I don't see what you're seeing. You look great."

  "Thanks. We all are getting older, I guess. Life's passing me by so quickly."

  Nodding toward Noah, Mallory waggled her brows. "Then don't let it. Go for it."

  "That's a definite possibility."

  She might have steamer trunk-sized baggage but Noah kept saying that he didn't care.

  She wanted to believe him. Badly.

  The band came back onstage and their third song was a rock ballad from the eighties.

  "May I have this dance?"

  Noah was smiling and holding out his hand. She wanted to say yes, her entire body yearning to be as close to his as possible but there was one tiny little problem.

  "I don't really know how."

  "It's easy. Just follow me. It's a slow song so we don't have to do anything fancy." He leaned over so his lips were close to her ear and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. "Trust me, honey."

  Did she trust him not to let her look like an uncoordinated bear on the dancefloor?

  Yes. Yes, she did.

  Placing her hand in his, she let him lead her onto the crowded dancefloor. Carter, Mallory, West, and Gigi were out there as well but their attention was firmly on each other.

  "Just loop your arms around my neck and stay close."

  That was easy enough. Damn pleasurable, too. Her body seemed to fit against his perfectly, although she was five-nine to his six-two. He smelled fantastic and she breathed deeply, filling her lungs with his delicious scent. The room spun for a moment but she was safe as a kitten in his strong arms. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't looking over her shoulder or waiting for something terrible to happen. All was right in her world.

  The dance floor was crowded, shoulder to shoulder so they barely moved to the music, their feet shuffling on the wooden plank flooring. Once or twice her toes bumped into his and she started to apologize but he simply shook his head, his lips brushing against her temple.

  "Easy, honey. You're doing fine. No worries."

  Heat. Her shirt clung to her back as the temperature zoomed between them. Their bodies brushed each other as they moved, his hip pressing against her belly and his thigh between her legs. It was intimate, and close, and sexy, and the arousal for this man and this one alone was beginning to build in her lower abdomen. Like that very first night, she could feel the want inside of her, coiling tighter and tighter until she was sure it would explode any moment.

  She'd been playing it safe for a long time, and she longed to be the woman that she used to be. The one that grabbed at life with both hands. Just this once...It couldn't hurt. Right?

  "Noah?"

  He bent his head, his mouth next to her ear. "Yes, honey?"

  "Can we go now?"

  He pulled back, obviously surprised by her request. "Of course. Are you not enjoying yourself? Are you hungry?"

  Liz was enjoying herself. And she was hungry. For him, specifically.

  "Actually, can we have dinner later?"

  She couldn't see his expression in the dim lighting but she could see that he nodded in agreement.

  "Sure, whatever you want. What do you want to do?"

  "Go to your place."

  His feet stopped moving and there was silence between them for a long moment.

  "My place?"

  "Any objections?"

  "Fuck, no. Let's go."

  Dinner could wait. She'd already waited two years for him. She couldn't wait a minute more.

  14

  By the time Noah and Liz arrived at her house that tension between then had built into an electrical storm. She should have kept her hands to herself during the drive, but somehow she couldn't stop herself from trailing her fingers up his muscular thigh or running them over his strong jaw. At one point, he'd groaned and told her that she needed to keep her hands to herself or they were going to end up in an accident.

  She'd done it but it hadn't been easy.

  After he'd pulled into his garage, he'd quickly rounded the vehicle to open her door and then pull her in for a long, hot kiss. And then another one, and another one. It didn't look like they were going to make it out of his garage and Liz was already searching the building for a horizontal space to have sex.

  The hood of the truck. The back of the truck. There was a workbench to the left that might be doable if they moved a few tools. Wait...there was a possibility. A padded weight bench in the corner. A little dusty, perhaps but by far the most comfortable option so far.

  "I want you so badly."

  Noah's voice was a mere whisper in her ear but in the quiet, out here all alone on the ranch, he might as well have been screaming the words.

  She ran her hands down his back straight to his muscled rear end that had been taunting her all night in his well-fitted blue jeans. "I want you, too."

  His lips found a spot behind her ear and it almost took her breath away. She had to concentrate to take in oxygen and her knees were beginning to turn to water. So good. Her hands went to his belt buckle but he stopped her, placing his own hands over hers.

  "We shouldn't do this out here. We should go inside, where it's comfortable," he panted, his breath warm on her cheek.

  Frankly, Liz didn't give a shit if they did it in a bed. It had been two long years and that pent-up longing had broken free. She'd take Noah any way she could get him. But she did as he asked, letting her hands fall to her sides.

  "I don't think I can wait," she said, taking a deep breath, her heart slamming against her ribs. Her gaze couldn't help but see the hard ridge of his arousal outlined by his jeans.

  "I want to slam you up against the side of my truck and have my wicked way with you," he said with a groan. "But that would be wrong."

  That sounded like heaven to Liz. What was the problem?

  "Why would it be wrong?" she blurted, keeping her gaze trained on his face instead of his crotch.

  He frowned as if he didn't understand that question. "Because...it would be disrespectful."

  Noah was a sweet man but he didn't have a clue. Didn't he see how hot and bothered she was? Both of them were breathing like they'd just finished a marathon.

  Hooking her finger in his waistband just as she had that night long ago in the hotel, she pulled him closer so that she could feel his hard cock up against her belly. A pleasurable shiver ran up her spine at the sensation.

  "You respect me just fine. What I need is you inside of me, Noah, preferably as soon as possible. I don't want to wait. We can make love in a bed later tonight."

  He appeared truly conflicted at her words. She could feel how much he wanted her but...

  Pulling his head down, she pressed her lips against his, the kiss sizzling hot with desire. When she eventually pulled away, she had to gasp for breath. "I know you want it to be special. I do, too. But don't you understand it will be no matter what? Because we're together."

  Whatever she'd said seemed to work. He stepped back and began working on his belt buckle, a huge grin on his too-handsome face. There really ought to be a law against being that good-looking. All the Andersons - male and female - had won the gene pool lottery.

  His pants unbuttoned, he began working on her jeans, his fingers awkward in their haste. He buried his face in her neck, licking and nipping at the skin and sending sparks straight to her lower abdomen, her arousal building quickly. She tugged at his shirt, a few buttons popping off and skitter
ing away probably never to be found again, but she'd successfully bared his chest to her questing hands. Rubbing her palms against his warm flesh, she felt him shudder against her.

  While she'd opened his shirt, he'd managed to slide her blue jeans and panties down her legs, taking her shoes with them so she was naked from the waist down. The temperature in the garage should have made Liz feel chilled but instead it felt like a sauna. Her skin was shiny and damp as Noah placed open-mouthed kisses on her thighs and belly. Arrows of arousal shot straight to her clit and she moved restlessly under him, her need growing out of control. She was more than ready for him now.

  Her fingers dug into his wide shoulders and she hooked one of her legs around his lean hips. "Now, Noah."

  Digging into his back pocket for his wallet, he pulled out a foil square. The same brand he'd used that night two years ago. Funny how her brain had locked onto even the smallest details.

  The mole on his chest, just above the left nipple.

  A small round scar on his left cheek. So faint she'd had to look closely.

  The ring of gold right around his pupil that could turn dark when he was close to his climax.

  His long, lush lashes so dusky against his skin when he closed his eyes.

  Liz slid her hands down, tracing his ridged abs with her fingertips. He'd told that he did physical work on the ranch, even though he didn't really have to, and it clearly showed. Every spot on his body that she touched was firm and muscled, not an ounce of spare flesh to be found.

  While she'd been fantasizing, Noah had ripped open the foil packet with his teeth. Not wanting to be left out, Liz helped him roll it on, giggling like teenagers at their haste.

  Noah held up one finger before swinging up into the extended cab of the truck. "One second, babe. Let's try and get a little comfortable."

  Reaching down, he lifted her easily off of the floor and placed her on the seats if she was made of the finest crystal. She scooted back on the buttery soft leather, and he came down on top of her, his cock nudging at her entrance.

  "Are you ready for me?"

  Was he kidding?

  "About ten minutes ago. Fuck me, Noah."

  He didn't make her wait any longer, pressing forward until he was deep inside, rubbing against her sweet spot and sending a jolt of electricity to her toes and fingertips. It took a few thrusts to find their rhythm but when they did, he rode her hard and fast as she urged him on, whispering filthy suggestions into his ear as they climbed the hill in unison.

  Flames licked at her flesh as she teetered on the precipice, so close to going over. With each stroke, Noah's groin rubbed against her clit and it would only take one...two...three...

  Liz screamed his name as her orgasm hit, her body bowing off of the seat, her toes curling as pleasure ran through her like a waterfall. Noah's climax came right after hers, his head thrown back and his jaw tight.

  When it was over Noah lay on top of her, their breathing ragged and labored, their skin damp. Running her fingers through his silky hair, she pressed small kisses to his jaw.

  "That was really great but I kinda can't breathe down here."

  She giggled and he tickled her ribs, drawing even more laughter from her. Levering up, Noah sat back on his haunches and looked down at her with a wicked grin. She could only imagine the sight she made, naked from the waist down, hair a rat's nest, and shiny makeup. He, however, didn't seem to mind how she looked. There was that warmth in his eyes that she was beginning to really, really like.

  "It's your own fault, woman. You wore me out. I'm not as young as I used to be."

  "You sound like you're eighty," she teased. "You seem pretty spry for an old man."

  Waggling his eyebrows, he bent down and pressed a kiss to her abdomen, setting off a new set of quivering. She'd never get enough of this man.

  "Let's go inside and you'll see just how spry I can be."

  She couldn't say no to that. In fact, she couldn't imagine ever saying no to him.

  She was that far gone.

  15

  Noah stood barefoot in his kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. And a smile.

  A huge motherfucking grin, if he was being completely honest.

  Making love to Liz had been miraculous, almost life changing, although that might be taking things a bit too far. Since that first time, he'd assumed that he'd blown their night together out of proportion, made it better than it was, but no. It was just as amazing.

  He loved that she wasn't afraid to come out and tell him what she wanted. Namely...him.

  They'd practically raced out of the roadhouse and back to his place, pulling off their clothes because they were in the way. It had been hot, raunchy, and fucking fantastic.

  He was never selling that truck. Thank goodness, he'd bought the biggest damn one on the car lot that day. Afterward, he'd loaned Liz a t-shirt to wear and they'd headed into the kitchen, their stomachs growling, to find something to eat.

  "Do you like steak?" he asked, his head in the refrigerator. Liz was perched on a bar stool at the island. "It's not chicken parmesan but I can make twice baked potatoes to go with it."

  "With cheese?"

  "Fuck, yes. Sour cream, too."

  "I'm totally on board with that. It sounds delicious. Can I help?"

  "I've got this. You just sit there and look beautiful."

  He must have said something funny because she was laughing, her hand on her stomach and her head thrown back. Her chocolate brown hair was tousled around her shoulders, her smooth golden thighs bare. She looked so damn sexy he almost dragged her back in the bedroom and had his way with her again.

  Down, boy. Feed her first.

  "I'm only eye candy to you?" Liz stuck out her lower lip in a pout. "How disappointing."

  Scrubbing the potatoes clean, he gave her a nudge with his elbow. "You're a hell of a lot more than that."

  She was beginning to become everything. It should have terrified him but instead he was happy. He was ready for it. He'd come to the point in his life where he was more than willing to make the compromises and sacrifices of a serious relationship.

  When she looked at him, he could see the emotion in her eyes. She wasn't unaffected. She felt it, too. He wasn't out there on a limb all by himself.

  "You're not so bad yourself."

  Her words were soft but he easily heard them.

  "So tell me about this pottery business you have going. I want to know everything."

  Noah had placed a bag of cheese on the island and Liz pinched a bit and popped it in her mouth. "I told you most of it. I started it as therapy but it quickly became my full-time job which is good because I needed a way to support myself. I couldn't go back to the bank and I really didn't want the whole corporate gig anymore. I'm not rich by any stretch of the imagination, but I do okay as long as I don't go on extravagant vacations and buy expensive shoes. That was sort of tough...giving up my shoe habit, but now I get to wear comfortable clothes all day so it's a tradeoff I can live with."

  "My mother said that you do functional pottery."

  "I do," she confirmed, pushing a stray strand of hair off of her cheek. "Most of what I create can be used. I do also make some art pieces but that's not my bread and butter, so to speak. Most people want to use what they buy."

  "What's your biggest seller?"

  "Vases," she replied promptly, stealing another pinch of cheese. "Followed by bowls and then tea seats."

  "If you eat all of the cheese, there won't be any for the potatoes."

  "It was only two teeny-tiny little bites, barely big enough for a mouse."

  She was absolutely adorable sitting there in his t-shirt sneaking shredded cheese. He leaned down and dropped a kiss on her cute as pie nose.

  "You're the sexiest mouse I've ever had in my home."

  Giggling, she shook her head. "What is it about men and their clothes on women? I wouldn't think you were so cute if you threw on one of my nightgowns, or maybe a pair of yoga pant
s and a tank top."

  His shoulders shook with laughter. "I can see why. My chest hair alone would clash with a cute little nightie. Luckily for you, I don't want to wear your clothes. As for women in men's clothes, I don't know why we like it but we do. There's something extremely primal about you wearing my shirt."

  She gave him that look. That one.

  "Turns you on?" Her voice had dropped a few octaves. At this rate, they might never get to eat dinner.

  "It does, but I'm trying to ignore it because both our stomachs are growling like hungry lions. We need to eat to keep our strength up."

  She stuck out her lower lip. "You're right, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it. Now are you sure I can't help?"

  "I've got it all under control. I want to keep asking you questions about your pottery and your life now. Is that okay?"

  "It is. Fire away. Get it? Fire away? It's a pottery joke."

  Liz was literally cracking up at her own bad joke, and she had Noah laughing, too. He hadn't had this much fun with a woman since...the last time they'd been together.

  He finished broiling the steaks and making the potatoes. They sat down at his rarely used kitchen table to eat. Everything tasted delicious, if he did say so himself, or maybe it was simply the company that made normal, everyday food taste gourmet. Both of them finished every bite of their meal, patting their stomachs when they were finished.

  "I am so full," Liz groaned. "But it was so good I couldn't stop eating. Potatoes and cheese are a match made in heaven. You're a good cook."

  "Mom taught all of us, but I wouldn't say that I have a large repertoire. I can make steak and potatoes, hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill, and roast chicken. Oh, and I also make a mean breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, toast. If you stick around until morning, you'll see for yourself."

  The ball was in her court. He'd take her back to Dizzy's later if that's what she wanted, but he'd kind of hoped she'd want to stay here.

  "I'd love to have you cook breakfast for me but..."

  That hope was fading fast.

  "But?" he prompted. "You're worried I snore?"

  She shook her head and reached across the table, placing on of her small hands on top of his larger one. Her skin was pale and delicate in comparison to his tanned and work-roughened hands.

 

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