by Maggie Riley
“Why do I get the feeling you’ve used that ‘don’t argue with me’ tactic before?” I asked him, picking up a fork.
“Because I have,” he said. “Younger sister, remember?”
I nodded and took a bite. Oh my god, it was delicious. I closed my eyes and allowed all my senses to focus on how good the food was. When I came back to reality I found that Shane was staring at me.
“You’ve got to stop doing that,” he said.
“Doing what?”
“Having sex with your food,” he told me.
I felt my face go red. “I do not!”
“You do.” He took a bite and closed his eyes. Then he let out a deep, sexy moan, clearly trying to imitate me. His blue gaze focused on me again. “It’s very distracting.”
No kidding. My entire body was on high alert and I could feel my nipples go hard. It took all my concentration to keep from looking down to see if they were visible through my bra and dress.
But then Shane’s gaze shifted lower for a moment, and the wicked smile that crept across his face indicated that yes, my nipples were standing at attention.
“It’s cold,” I snapped, my face burning with embarrassment.
“Uh-huh.” He had a satisfied look on his face as he took another bite of pasta.
We ate in silence for a few moments while I mentally yelled at my body for being such a fucking flirt. That ache that I had felt all last night returned in full force and I had to cross my legs tightly under the table.
“So.” Shane glanced up at me. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” I said politely. “How was yours?”
“Not great,” he admitted. “Didn’t get as much work done as I would have liked.”
“Building furniture.”
He nodded. “Got several orders that need to be shipped out soon.”
The only thing I knew about woodworking was the few scenes from Magic Mike. And I had a feeling that it wasn’t anything like it was portrayed in the movies. Not that that was going to stop me from imagining Shane working his tight shirt, his biceps glistening with sweat as his hips thrust to the beat of some sexy song.
“Did your interviews go well?” Shane asked.
“Mmhmm,” I said around my bite of garlic bread.
I expected him to move on to a different topic of conversation, but he didn’t. He just stared at me with the kind of expectant look I was sure he gave his younger sister when she was being stubborn and silent.
I chided myself for being anti-social. He was doing me a favor by letting me stay here, and I was being rude. Besides, if I had to get a place with a roommate, I was going to have to get used to this kind of small talk. But hopefully my roommate wasn’t someone I was going to imagine naked. That would be far too distracting.
“I got a job offer,” I told him. “I start tomorrow.”
His eyebrows went up. “Wow. That was fast.”
I nodded, pushing some pasta around my plate. I knew I should be more excited about it, but I couldn’t help but be disappointed by all the rejections I had gotten from well-established Broadway producers. Joanna’s offer was great and all, but she and Reagan made it clear that they didn’t know what they were doing. That meant they probably didn’t know what they were looking for in a stage manager. They might have hired me because I was the only applicant. Or the only one with any kind of experience.
“Why do I feel like you’re not happy about it?” Shane asked, still giving me that ‘I can do this all night’ look. Of all the things I wanted to do all night with him, talking about my career was at the bottom of the list.
I lifted a shoulder. “It’s a new theatre,” I told him, explaining my concerns. “Inexperienced director and producer. Not really what I’m used to.”
“But that could be good, right?” he offered. “What’s the show they’re doing?”
“An all-female production of The Iceman Cometh. With puppets.”
Shane pressed his lips together, obviously trying to keep from laughing.
“It’s avant-garde,” I explained, spearing a lone noodle with my fork.
“Sure,” he said, still attempting to hide his smile. “I bet it will be great.”
I put my face in my hands.
“How’s the apartment search going?” he asked, mercifully changing the subject. Unfortunately, it wasn’t one I wanted to talk about either. Nothing in my life seemed to be going according to plan. It was infuriating. My lists had never failed me so completely.
“It’s fine.” I took another bite of garlic bread.
“Did you make a list?” he asked, and I glanced up at him, surprised.
“Of course,” I said eagerly. “It’s really the only way to organize what you want and to make sure you are getting it . . .” I trailed off when I realized he had been teasing me. “Lists are very useful,” I said.
He nodded, hiding a smile. “I’m sure they are.”
“They’re the only way I’ll be able to find a place.” I finished up the last of my dinner. “I promise I’ll be out of here by next week at the latest.”
Shane cleared my now-empty plate. “You don’t have to rush,” he said, taking it over to the sink. I followed with the silverware and the bread bowl. “I said you could stay as long as you needed and I meant it.”
“You can’t keep sleeping on the sofa,” I told him, trying to ignore how close we were, standing next to each other at the sink. He smelled so good.
“Sure I can,” he said, taking the bowl from me, his fingers brushing against mine.
A jolt of electricity shot through me, and my pulse sped up. I kept my attention focused on drying off the dishes he had washed, trying to ignore each time we touched. As he handed me the last plate, however, he put his hand over mine. I looked up at him, his blue eyes burning hot.
“Unless you want to share the bed,” he said, his voice husky.
“Uh,” I managed as he took the plate from me and put it down on the counter.
He stepped closer, his hand coming up to trace the line of my jaw. My own hands found themselves flat against his chest. His rock-hard chest. I could have pushed him away, but instead I fisted his shirt in my fingers, pulling him closer.
“Though we probably won’t get any sleep,” he murmured, and then he kissed me.
Chapter 7
SHANE
Allie melted in my arms. Her lips were soft and full, and she let out a sexy little moan as I pulled her closer, my hand sliding down to her hip, drawing her body up against mine. I completely lost myself in the act of kissing her. Her mouth was sweet, so sweet, and I couldn’t get enough. Cupping Allie’s face, I deepened the kiss, feeling a jolt of heat when her tongue met mine.
That was when I lost control. Backing her up against the counter, I leaned into her luscious curves, my palm slipping down to grab her ass. At first I worried I was going too fast, but then her own hands reached upwards, fisting in my hair, as her hips arched against mine, greedy and wanting. She wanted me just as much as I wanted her.
Good. I was so hard I could barely think straight. Allie’s mouth was hot and wet, eagerly taking my tongue and giving hers in return. She had a death grip on my hair, but I didn’t give a flying fuck, my own hands gripping her warm curves as I hoisted her up onto the counter.
Her knees fell open and I moved closer, feeling her moan on my tongue as I settled between her legs. Shit. She felt amazing. All softness where I was hard. The only thing between us were my jeans and a pair of tiny panties, which I discovered as I slipped my hand beneath her dress. They were soaked, and I sucked in a breath, more turned on than I thought was possible.
I was just about to move that barrier aside when Allie tore her lips from mine. Her heavy breathing mirrored mine, but before I could kiss her again, she wiggled out from under me, her cheeks flushed, her chest heaving.
“That—that was a mistake,” she said, yanking her dress down.
I stared at her, stunned, the words taking a moment to sink
in. It was the last thing I had expected to hear. The last thing I had wanted to hear. She had felt so good, and judging from the way she had moaned and pressed up against me, she had been feeling pretty good too. Mistake my ass.
“We should just pretend that never happened.”
“Pretend it never happened?” Yeah. Fat chance. I was going to be replaying that hot interaction for a couple of weeks. At least.
“It’s for the best. Especially since we have to share the apartment for now,” Allie said, but she wouldn’t look at me, her eyes darting around the room.
She was just as turned on as I was, but she clearly wasn’t going to give into it. Fine. I had never needed to convince a woman that we would be hot together, and I wasn’t going to start now.
“If that’s what you want,” I finally said.
Glancing up at me, I could see the surprise in her eyes. Had she been hoping that I would refuse? That I would throw her over my shoulder and carry her into the bedroom? It wasn’t that I was against it, but she needed to want it. She needed to ask for it.
“OK.” Her voice was quiet. Stubborn.
We just stood there, staring at each other for a moment. I could tell she still wanted me—I could tell by the flush of her cheeks and the tight peaks of her nipples poking through her dress. No doubt that if either of us looked down, my own interest in her would be more than evident, straining against my jeans.
But maybe she was right. Maybe this was a bad idea. After all, we were going to be sharing a small space for who knows how long. Getting involved could go bad, and it could go bad fast.
Or it could be very, very good.
But Allie had made her choice and I had to respect that. It didn’t make my desire go away. My entire body was tense. I needed relief and I needed it now.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I said abruptly, and I stalked past her to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.
Stripping off my clothes, I stepped into the shower, ducking my head to let the hot water slide down my back. My cock was hard and throbbing. I could still feel Allie’s lips on mine, and now I imagined them on the body part I took in my hand. Stroking myself, I pressed my other palm against the shower wall, a low groan escaping my throat. Closing my eyes, I imagined Allie kneeling in front of me, her big brown eyes staring up at me as her hot, wet mouth took me deep.
In my fantasy, I pulled her to her feet, pressing her back against the tile, my hand going between her legs, finding her ready for me. With her leg hooked around my hip, I surged into her, her head falling back as I took her hard against the shower wall.
Was she still in the kitchen? Was she standing there, listening to the shower and imagining me the way I was imagining her? Was she thinking about finishing what we had started? The thought of her being so close made me even hotter.
Hot water hitting my chest, I tightened my grip and increased my rhythm, imagining pumping in and out of Allie, her cries muffled against my mouth. With a shudder, I came, my palm flat on the shower wall, the water washing everything away.
ALLIE
I closed the bedroom door behind me and leaned up against it, my heart racing. What the fuck, body? Have you lost your goddamn mind?
Obviously, yes.
Lifting my hand, I touched my lips, where I could still feel Shane’s mouth hot against mine. I could still feel him everywhere. His hands on my hips, on my ass, between my legs . . .
I threw myself down on the bed, doing my best not to breathe in the smell of sawdust that I knew was there. Grabbing a pillow, I pressed it over my face and let out a frustrated scream. Now I really had to find an apartment. Immediately. Thinking about Shane’s hot, half-naked body had been agonizing enough, but now that I knew what it felt like to kiss him? What it felt like to have his hands sliding over me? The press of his hard body against mine? There was no way I could be in the same room with him without wanting to do extremely naughty things to him. And vice versa.
I didn’t have time for this. For flirting and kissing and sex. There was enough on my plate, and I didn’t have time for men. No matter how hot they made me. In my experience they just ended up being a distraction, and I just couldn’t risk a distraction right now. I had done without that kind of fun for a really long time and I hadn’t gone insane. I could go without that same fun now.
Still, my entire body throbbed with wanting. Flopping onto my back, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath through my mouth, trying to expel all the sexual energy that was humming through me. On the other side of the wall, I could hear the shower running, and I imagined Shane standing under the water, his hot, hard body all soaped up and slick.
Fuck. This was not helping.
I tried again—clearing my head and counting my breath. It was working until I heard something mixed in with the sound of running water. A low, deep groan.
I sat up, my pulse pounding. Was that—? Was he—?
The groan came again, a little louder, and there was absolutely no mistaking what Shane was doing on the other side of the wall in the shower.
Not that I blamed him. I had felt how turned on he had been, his long, thick length pressed up against me, hard and ready. Leaning back on the pillows, I let myself relive that feeling. How I had pulled him closer. How I had wanted it. Because I had. I had wanted it badly. And I still wanted it. Needed it.
My body ached for release and, somehow, knowing that Shane was finding his own only a few feet away from me made me a little bold. Sliding my dress above my hips, I closed my eyes and imagined that my hand was Shane’s. I traced the edge of my panties, just as he had done, but this time, I didn’t stop.
Instead, I imagined him pulling aside the lace, his thumb brushing over my wetness. He stroked me there, making my toes curl. Then, slowly, he slid one calloused finger inside me. My head fell back as I touched myself, my breath coming faster and faster as I imagined him stroking me, adding another finger, feeling how hot and ready I was.
I could picture him, on the other side of the wall, water sliding down his shoulders, his hand around his cock as he touched himself. Was he thinking of me? Was he picturing the same thing I was? I imagined steam building up around him, nothing but a wall between us.
Then, just as I was about to explode, I imagined him unzipping his pants and freeing himself. Nudging my legs wide, he pressed against me, and then inside me, filling me completely. He began to move, angling his hips with each thrust, his mouth against mine, his tongue going just as deep. My hand sped up as I imagined him above me, his blue eyes burning, and suddenly, I came, my entire body shuddering with the intensity of it all, swept away by my own fantasy.
Chapter 8
ALLIE
My alarm was twenty minutes from going off when my parents called the next morning. It had been a rough enough night, what with replaying my kiss with Shane and then replaying my fantasy of him in the shower. It had taken forever to fall asleep, my entire body still wound tight even after my self-imposed orgasm. It had been good, but it hadn’t been enough. Especially since I knew it paled in comparison to what I could have had with Shane. So I had barely gotten enough sleep and I really could have used those extra minutes.
But if I didn’t answer, they would just call again. And again. And again.
“Your mom says that someone was shot in Queens last night. That wasn’t you, was it?” my dad asked when I answered.
“I have not been shot,” I told him, not even bothering to mention that I was currently in Brooklyn, not Queens.
“That’s what I told her.” My dad was the slightly less hysterical out of the two of them, but only slightly. “Because the hospital would have called us if you were.”
“Uh-huh.” I rubbed at my eyes, already missing those twenty minutes of sleep.
“Unless you changed your emergency contact information.”
“Why would I do that?” I wanted to know.
“Well, I saw some show where the girl had her drug dealer as her emergency contact.”
I took a deep breath. “Dad, are you trying to figure out if I know or have a drug dealer?”
“No!” My dad said quickly. “But do you?”
“I have to go,” I told him. “I got a job and I start today. Can’t be late.”
“Oh, well that’s great, honey.” He actually sounded excited. It lasted about five seconds. “But you know your mom got you an interview at the local theatre. You should call them before you make any final decisions.”
“I’m not interviewing for a job in Nebraska,” I told him. “I like New York.” Drug dealers and all, I thought, wisely keeping my little joke to myself. “OK, Dad, got to go.”
“Good luck,” he said, and I bit my tongue to keep from correcting him. No matter how many times I told them that good luck was actually bad luck to theatre people, and that we preferred break a leg, it never seemed to stick.
I hung up hoping that the universe wouldn’t hold my parents against me.
I had hoped to avoid Shane in the morning, but it turned out I wasn’t that lucky. We carefully circled each other in the kitchen, the air thick with tension, and ended up leaving at the same time, resulting in an extremely awkward wait for the elevator. I held tight to my shoulder bag and tried to think of anything but what had happened last night. Not that he knew exactly what had happened last night. Even though the way he looked at me made me feel as if he had heard me on the other side of the bathroom wall, just like I had heard him.
My intense fantasy from the night before, coupled with the memory of Shane lifting me onto the counter and kissing me like his life depended on it, made my skin hot and prickly, and by the time the elevator arrived, I was pretty sure my face and chest were flushed and bright red.
Shane, on the other hand, looked completely calm and unflustered, his hands shoved in his pockets. I could still hear that low, aroused groan that had come through the wall last night, and didn’t realize I was staring at his mouth until he cleared his throat.