“Sounds pretty interesting to me,” he said. “My sister’s got a couple of horses. Hell if I know a thing about them, but I wouldn’t mind learning.”
Like old friends, we fell easily into conversation. No matter what we talked about—my job, people we knew, the baseball games on the screen—he hung on my every word. It was the same way he’d interacted with the others when he didn’t know I was watching, so I had no illusion that this was specially for me, but it was still refreshing after Troy and Kyle. Even some commotion behind me warranted nothing more than a brief flick of his eyes before his attention returned to me. Otherwise, he stayed focused on and interested in our conversation. Focused on me. I was surprised it didn’t make me uncomfortable, but then again there was no rational reason it should have. He wasn’t scrutinizing, just interested.
“So anyway,” I said after explaining some of the finer points of my job, “that’s what I do for a living.”
He smiled. “Sounds like you’re doing what you love.” Raising his glass, he added, “More people should.”
I wondered when he’d moved closer to me. Or I’d moved closer to him. I could have sworn we were standing farther apart but somehow, perhaps through a series of motions so minute I hadn’t noticed, we’d narrowed that space. He was near enough to touch, and touching him was oh so tempting.
When our eyes met, the hint of a grin and the sparkle of mischievousness in his eyes dared me to do it. Instead, I muffled a cough behind my hand and said, “So, what do you do?”
Setting his beer on the bar, he rested his elbow beside it. “At the moment, I’m a desk jockey, but that’s just to pay bills until I graduate.”
“What are you studying?”
“I’m finishing my master’s in linguistics.”
“Linguistics?” I couldn’t help but grin. “So that would make you a cun—”
“A cunning linguist, yes.” He rolled his eyes and laughed.
“Can’t say I’ve ever met a linguist before.”
He grinned. “Not even a cunning one?”
“Especially not a cunning one.”
He lifted his beer again, his eyes narrowing and his lips curling into a smile that made my knees tremble. “What a pity.”
Chapter Two
Lost in conversation with Connor, I didn’t realize just how late it was until I noticed that the pub was getting progressively quieter. People migrated toward the door. The bartenders spent more time cleaning than pouring. The baseball games on TV were long since over.
Connor glanced at his cell phone. “Wow, it’s almost one.”
“Already?” I said. “Time flies, I guess.”
He smiled. “So it does.”
“I should probably go.” But damn, I don’t want to.
“Yeah, me too,” he said. “Another hour and they’ll throw us out anyway.”
“Bastards.”
Connor chuckled. “Probably just as well. Or we might end up here all night.”
It took me a second to realize why that would be in any way undesirable. I could think of no place I’d rather be, but the night had to end sooner or later. We couldn’t stay here all night, so it was, as Connor said, just as well.
He looked at the door, then at me. “Do you mind if I walk you back to your car?”
“I took a taxi.” I gestured at my empty glass. “I was planning to have a few more of those than I did.”
The smile on his lips was caught somewhere between devilish and shy. For a moment, he avoided my eyes. “If it’s not too forward of me…” A pause, possibly gauging my reaction before he’d fully asked the question. “Could I give you a lift home?”
Had it been anyone else, I’d have balked at the offer. After all, he was a complete stranger. Did I really want to get into his car and show him where I lived? But Susan knew him, and even if she knew such impolite cretins as Troy and Kyle, I doubted she associated with psychos.
“You don’t mind?”
The shyness faded. “Not in the least.”
“What if I said I lived a few hours away? Like, say, Bellingham?”
His expression was all devilishness now, and my knees shook when he said, “Then I guess we’d be in for a long drive together, wouldn’t we?”
I suddenly wished I lived in Bellingham.
“Let me take care of my tab and we can go,” he said.
I nodded and he disappeared into the thinning crowd.
Out of nowhere, Susan was suddenly by my side giving me a good-natured glare. “Dani Blake, if I didn’t know any better, I’d be sure you were just flirting with Connor.”
“Define ‘flirting.’” I batted my eyes.
She rolled hers. “After all the trouble I went to setting you up with Troy.”
I snorted. “Please. I don’t think he was interested, considering how quickly he made his escape as soon as you were out of earshot.”
Susan blinked. “What? Oh, I’m going to kill him, that—”
“No, no.” I put a hand up and shook my head. “Trust me, it’s for the better.”
Her eyes flicked toward the bar and she smiled. “Well, if Connor’s a suitable consolation prize, don’t let me get in your way.”
“Consolation prize?” I glanced at Connor. “You won’t hear me complaining. Besides, he’s just taking me home.”
“Taking you home?” Her eyes widened. “Doesn’t that—”
“As in driving me back to my apartment, Susan.” I eyed her. “So I don’t have to pay for a cab. Nothing like that.”
She laughed. “And I suppose you have some oceanfront property in Arizona to sell me while you’re at it?”
Though I tried to laugh it off, I could only half-heartedly deny what my intentions were. One night stands weren’t for me, but I hoped the next half hour or so would at least warrant a “can I see you again?”
Connor’s voice came from behind me: “Susan, you’d better not be filling her head with lies about me.”
Susan put her hands up defensively. “No lies. None at all.”
“Or truth, for that matter,” he said. I turned to see him giving her a look that might have been intimidating had it not been for the mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
After some playful ribbing, we said our goodbyes to Susan and headed out of the pub. It was a warm night, considering it was only early spring, but the occasional gust of cold wind off Puget Sound made me wish I’d brought a jacket. Or a shirt that served as a somewhat better defense than this thin blouse. At least I was wearing jeans. Susan would be miserable when she stepped outside in her super short skirt.
About three blocks from the pub, Connor indicated a black parallel-parked Jeep. He unlocked it and opened the passenger door to let me in before going around to the driver’s side.
He slid into the driver’s seat. “So do you really live in Bellingham?”
I wish. “No, my apartment is in the U-district.”
“Not far at all then,” he said quietly.
“You sound disappointed.”
He shrugged and buckled his seatbelt. “I have to admit, I was hoping for a longer drive.”
My heart skipped. That was probably the least subtle thing he’d said all night, and I so, so hoped he wasn’t just saying it. I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted from him, what I wanted out of this, but whatever it was, I hoped he wanted it too.
Connor shifted gears and pulled out onto Pike Street, following it in the direction I indicated. While he drove, he said, “You mentioned that you’re not from this area. Where are you from?”
“Wyoming. Moved here about seven months ago.”
“What brought you out here? Work?”
Before I could think twice, I said, “Boyfriend.”
He glanced at me, eyes wide.
I laughed. “Ex-boyfriend now.” The momentary panic faded from his expression, but unasked questions hid in the furrows between his eyebrows, so I continued, “He wanted a change of scenery, so he moved. About four months after we got her
e, he decided to change all the scenery.”
Connor shot me an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”
I shrugged. “Eh, he was a jackass. It’s better this way.”
“Still,” he said. “I can’t imagine packing up your life, moving halfway across the country, then having someone turn around and pull a stunt like that.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” I said dryly. “But, it’s done. I’m here.”
At that, Connor smiled, but said nothing.
“What about you?” I asked. “Are you from this area?”
He nodded. “Born and raised.”
“Seems like a lot of people who are born here, stay here.”
“It’s a great place to live,” he said. “Well, I might be biased. All I know is that no matter where I go, this city will always be home.”
I could have sworn my apartment was further from the Pike Street Pub, and I cursed every green light that whisked us closer to the our destination. I wasn’t ready for this night to be over. There had to be some unscheduled middle-of-the-night road construction somewhere. Or a fender bender. A damned red light. A riot. Something. Anything.
But, after mere minutes, Connor pulled his Jeep into one of the vacant guest spaces at the foot of my building. For the first time since he’d shooed Kyle away at the bar, an awkward silence hung between us.
“Listen, without resorting to some clichéd pick-up line,” he said, “I’d like to see you again.”
I smiled. “Well then, without resorting to some clichéd response, why don’t I just give you my number?”
“I like the sound of that.” He pulled out his phone. I recited my number and he entered it, showing me the screen to make sure it was correct.
With my number securely in his phone, we could safely call it a night. Go our separate ways knowing we’d cross paths again and soon. Still, neither of us moved, nor did we speak.
He scratched the back of his neck, resting his other arm on the steering wheel. “I know I should let you go, but to be honest…” He paused, a shy smile pulling at his lips. “I don’t want to.”
I glanced around the parking lot. “Well, it’s not like they’re going to kick us out of here.”
He laughed. “True.” He set the parking brake and sent my pulse into overdrive. My heart pounded over the purr of the engine, but the tiny world inside the Jeep was otherwise silent. Though conversation had come easily all night, I couldn’t think of what to say now. Everything that came to mind would either sound stupidly awkward or be rife with double entendre.
Connor took a breath and started to speak, then hesitated. He rested his elbow on the steering wheel and rubbed the side of his jaw with the backs his fingers, the muffled scratch of skin on stubble making my fingertips tingle. I wanted to touch him. Good God, I wanted to touch him.
We just met. I barely know anything about him, How can I want him this badly? This can’t—
My mouth went dry when the tip of his tongue traced a quick arc across the inside of his lower lip. Then his body shifted and the seatbelt snapped back as he freed his arm from the shoulder strap. When he turned to me, I wanted to let his beautiful eyes mesmerize me, but all I could do was stare at his lips when he spoke.
Leaning across the console, he reached for my face and said, “I’m sorry for the way you ended up moving to Seattle”—his fingertips met my skin and he drew me closer to him—“but I have to say, I’m really glad you’re here.”
His hand moved into my hair and he kissed me.
Just like everything about him tonight, his kiss was the very epitome of quiet intensity. Neither gentle nor rough, aggressive nor passive, but somewhere in between, with all the electricity of a first kiss and such familiarity it was as if he’d known all along just how I’d like it.
My fingers sought his face and finally satisfied the craving to feel him, to memorize the contours of his jaw and trace his five o’clock shadow. His tongue parted my lips and when his jaw moved and his cheek hollowed beneath my palm, I had the space of a single heartbeat to shiver, knowing he was deepening this already spine-melting kiss.
The tip of his tongue slid beneath mine and neither invited nor demanded, simply assumed I’d allow him to draw it into his mouth. Even the way his mouth moved was subtle, like he wanted to make sure I felt every place our lips met and tasted every touch of his tongue against mine. I was hyperaware of everything he did, of every way we made and broke contact. His breathing slowed and I couldn’t help but mirror it, inhaling deeply when he did, releasing when his warm breath brushed across my skin.
My finger grazed the surface of his earring before combing through his thick hair. When my fingertips ran down the back of his neck, a shudder pushed him closer to me.
He looked at me and sucked his lower lip into his mouth as if to get one last taste of our first kiss. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he whispered.
Do it again and I swear to God, I’ll be your slave for the rest of the night. I wasn’t quite brazen enough to say it, though. Besides, speaking was out of the question at this point. My mouth knew how to do one thing and one thing only.
My fingers tightened in his hair and he offered no resistance when I pulled him into another kiss. When we separated this time, we stayed close, just looking at each other. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t quite grasp the fact that we’d been strangers just hours ago. Nameless faces in a crowd.
But now we knew each other’s names, and I desperately wanted to hear him say mine over and over again.
With the taste of his kiss on my tongue, speech was still nearly impossible, but the only alternative was going out of my mind, so I swallowed hard. “Do you—”This wasn’t like me at all. One night stands weren’t my thing, but they sure were tonight. “Do you want to…” My eyes darted toward my apartment, then back to him, and I lifted my eyebrows.
Connor unbuckled his seatbelt.
Chapter Three
We managed to keep our hands off each other all the way across the parking lot and into the stairwell. The whole way, I didn’t dare look at him. Part of me was afraid I’d suddenly remember that this wasn’t something I normally did. Part of me was sure if I caught his eye, we wouldn’t make it to—let alone through—my front door.
Fishing my keys out of my purse, my hands shook, but I hoped he didn’t see. I couldn’t tell which tremors were from nerves and which were from anticipation. What was I doing? Inviting him into my apartment after a few hours of conversation and a couple of long kisses?
The memory of his kiss tingled on my lips and my mouth watered at the thought of tasting him again. This can’t be anything but a good idea.
I put the key in the door, somehow remembered which way to turn it to unlock the deadbolt, and let us into my apartment. As soon as we were inside, I turned the deadbolt again, then tossed both purse and keys into a heap just before Connor pushed me up against the door and kissed me.
Outside the confines of his Jeep, his kiss reached new heights of hungry and desperate. His hands tangled in my hair and his hips pressed against mine, just the proximity of his cock making my clit tingle. I had to have him. I had to have all of him. Hot, naked, touching, tasting, everywhere, every way. Right now.
“Bedroom,” I murmured.
Together we stumbled through the darkness, bumping walls, furniture, and each other. In the bedroom, we only got as far as kicking off shoes before I pulled him down on top of me. I’d never been so turned on, but no man had ever kissed me quite like this.
It didn’t occur to me to turn on a light until Connor pushed himself up and took his shirt off. When he came back down to me and my hands found the firm, warm contours of his muscles and the unmistakable grooves of a six-pack, I needed to see him.
After I’d turned on the bedside lamp, I blinked until my eyes adjusted. And when they did, I wasn’t disappointed in the least.
“Fit” didn’t even begin to describe the sculpted, powerful build of his chest and shoulders.
He was as lean and slender as I’d first thought when I saw him in the pub, but every bit of him was solid and defined. Some men were a disappointment when the clothes came off. Connor was not one of them, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
He didn’t seem to mind my staring. In fact, he was much too busy watching his fingers trail across my skin to even notice. They followed my collarbone to the lapel of my blouse, then down to the first button. With a flick of his thumb and forefinger, the button was open. His eyes met mine and that barely-there grin made my temperature jump.
He unfastened each button in turn, but made no effort to push my shirt out of the way. I was tempted to wriggle out of it, to expose as much skin as I could for him to put his hands and mouth on, but what he was doing seemed so deliberate. Calculated. He knew what he was doing, even if I didn’t, so I let him.
It was only after he’d opened every last button that he hooked a single finger under the lapel and drew it down, deepening the “V” of my blouse one inch at a time. His fingertip caught on my bra for a fleeting second, just brushing my breast before continuing downward. That touch, however brief, was electric, and I closed my eyes when a shudder went through me.
A flutter of warm breath above my bra was my only warning before soft lips pressed against my skin. It was a light, gentle kiss, but my back arched and pushed me closer to him, letting his five o’clock shadow scuff against my skin and raise goose bumps all over me. Another huff of breath, this time with the force of a quiet laugh, made me shiver.
I looked down at him and met his eyes in the same moment he kissed between my breasts once more. Pushing himself up on his arms, he came up and kissed my mouth. When his hips touched mine, when his belt buckle chilled my skin and I realized that we were both still mostly dressed, my toes curled. He had to know how powerful his touch was, how just the lightest contact flared my every nerve ending to hyperawareness. He had to know that all he had to do was say the word and we could call foreplay complete and skip right to what we were here for.
But he didn’t.
I’d never known a man to savor every gentle touch and long, deep kiss the way he did. It was some ungodly hour in the morning, we were both horny, and still he took his time. This was the kind of sex I’d fantasized about, and we hadn’t even taken off our clothes yet.
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