by Cara Summers
Standing in his living room under the soft glow of the dimmed lamp, half undressed, his hands molding her back, was so intoxicating she actually felt light-headed and gripped his forearms.
“Dallas?”
Her lids felt so heavy, it was too much a struggle to lift them.
He moved his hand from her back and then tilted her chin up. “I wish you’d trust me,” he whispered so huskily, it took her a moment to digest his words.
She opened her eyes. The sensual fog immediately lifted. “Why would you say that?”
“I want to keep seeing you.”
She knew where he was going with this but she wasn’t ready for that discussion. “I’d like that.”
He smiled. “I don’t even have your phone number.”
“No?” She undid two more buttons, leaving his shirt hanging open. Placing both hands against his chest, she lowered her head and kissed a spot just above his right nipple.
His body tensed beneath her palms.
“All right.” She touched the tip of her tongue to his budding nipple.
He sucked in a breath. “All right what?”
“I’ll give you my number.”
He moved just out of her reach. “And your last name?”
She pushed the shirt off his shoulder. His cuffs were still buttoned. Before she could unfasten them, he slid her dress down to her waist, leaving her breasts bare.
“What’s your last name, Dallas?” His gaze stayed on her breasts. He touched one pearled nipple with the tip of his finger.
She got a hold of his cuff and slipped the button free. “Why is that so important?”
“Why is it so important to keep it from me?” He lowered his head and touched the same nipple with the tip of his tongue.
She freed the other cuff and pushed his shirt off. It fell to the floor. She went for his buckle, but he pulled away.
He smiled and slid her zipper the rest of the way down. Her dress joined his shirt on the floor, leaving her in nothing but a black thong and the stilettos.
“Answer me,” he said softly, his gaze hungrily taking in her breasts, his nostrils flaring when he got to the small silk triangle at the juncture of her thighs.
Surely he could see her heart pounding. It felt as if it were going to burst through her skin. She held her breath and willed herself to keep from crying out as he cupped the weight of her breasts in each hand, using his thumbs to tease her nipples.
“Dallas?”
She couldn’t blame him for coercing her like this. She’d done the same thing to him trying to avoid the conversation. But it didn’t matter. Not really. Her last name wouldn’t mean anything to him. She wasn’t even listed in the phone book. None of her family was. “It’s Shea.”
“Dallas Shea. I like it.”
He abandoned her breasts to slide his arms around her. Filling his palms with her bottom, his fingers lightly digging into her fleshy cheeks, he drew her against him. The friction of her nipples rubbing his chest hair raised goose bumps on her arms.
“Take off your pants,” she said and kicked off one of her heels.
“Leave them on, okay?” One side of his mouth hiked up. “Just until we get in bed.”
She tried to hold back a smile. “Is that where we’re going?”
“I don’t know. This is pretty thick carpet. Might be interesting to stay right here.”
She slid her foot back into the shoe. No matter how soft the carpet, the idea of rubbing her bare bottom on it held no appeal.
As if he’d read her mind, he ran his palms down her backside. “Although I’d hate to see anything happen to this. Your skin is so incredibly soft. Like a baby’s.”
“The bed totally gets my vote.” She didn’t wait for him but jerked free his buckle.
“Impatient little thing.” Grinning, he undid his but tons and fly.
“Au contraire. I think I’ve been very patient.” She shoved his slacks down his hips, and he took it from there, yanking them off the rest of the way and throwing them in the direction of the couch.
He wore boxers again, his sex straining so hard against the tan silky fabric that she could see the out line of the head. She touched him there, swirling the tip of her finger until he shuddered. He cupped her shoulders as she hooked her fingers in his elastic waistband and drew the boxers down his legs.
On her way down she flicked her tongue across the velvety tip. He jerked, his fingers digging into her shoulders. But she had him trapped and she took her time rid ding him of the boxers as she explored him with her tongue.
Moaning, he closed his eyes and threaded his fingers through her hair. Bobby pins bounced off her bare shoulders as they fell from the French twist she’d painstakingly created earlier. Her hair fell down her back, and he wove his fingers tighter through the strands as she drew the entire tip into her mouth.
His entire body shuddered. She took in more of him, teasing him with her swirling tongue until she reached the base. He moaned loudly, his fingers digging deeper, more painfully into her skin. With a jerk he pushed her back and then pulled her upright, startling her.
“Eric, what’s—”
He shook his head, his eyes glassy. He couldn’t seem to speak. He guided her backward until she met the couch and gently laid her down. And then not so gently pulled off her thong.
He kissed the top of her foot, worked his way to her knee and then spread her thighs. The reflex to squeeze them together was almost too great, and she balled her fists, closed her eyes and held her breath. Nothing happened for a moment and she knew he was looking at her. There. In the most intimate place.
She opened her eyes just as he lowered his head and kissed her nether lips. Then he spread them and slid his tongue inside. She nearly came off the couch. Realizing she still had her heels on, she struggled to kick them off before she tore the couch.
The movement seemed to arouse him further, and he used his tongue and fingers with such a fever, she knew it would all be over for her in seconds. She fisted his hair, trying to get him to slow down, but he continued, his tongue unrelenting, until the spasms started to rock her body.
Heat seared her and she cried out. Tears seeped from her eyes. She let go of his hair when she realized she was pulling it and then grabbed the armrest behind her head. He reached up to knead her breast, but he wouldn’t stop the sensual assault of his mouth until she shifted her hips and squeezed her thighs together.
Without missing a beat he moved up to her breasts, teasing the nipple of one and then moving to the other and sucking it into his mouth. When he tried to slide his hand between her thighs, she pushed him away.
He raised his head in surprise. His face was slightly flushed, his darkened eyes hooded, his moist lips parted in confusion. She wanted to explain that nothing was wrong, that she only wanted to participate, but she could barely breathe. Instead she reached for him, and he smiled, shifting to give her better access.
It wasn’t enough. The couch was too narrow to accommodate both of them, and she pushed herself up right to better maneuver. Like a starving man, he cupped her breasts and began suckling them feverishly, almost as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
“Eric?”
He raised his head and captured her lips before she could say anything further. His enthusiasm was heady stuff, but she wanted to taste him, too.
She broke away, gasping for air. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”
He nodded. “Protection,” he said unevenly. “In my nightstand.”
She sensed he was about to start in again and she quickly left the couch.
He caught her hand, but she snatched it back.
“Oh, no you don’t.” She laughed at the wounded look he gave her. “Come on, or we’ll never make it to the bedroom.”
“We will. Eventually.”
About to say they didn’t have all night, she stopped herself. The truth was she had no intention of spending the night. But she didn’t want to get into that conversation either.
> “Well, I’m headed that way,” she said over her shoulder and caught him staring at her backside. “Come if you want.”
A cocky grin curved his mouth. “I have every intention of coming.”
“I’m sure you do. So I suggest—” She let out a yelp when he leaped up and sprinted after her.
She ran to the bedroom, barely making it to the doorway when he wrapped his arms around her and dragged her to the bed. They both fell unceremoniously atop the rust-colored quilt.
“Thought you’d start without me, did you?” he murmured against her neck between kisses.
His slightly rough chin tickled, and she giggled. “It never crossed my mind.”
“Not once?”
“Not even for a nanosecond.”
“I don’t know. You sounded like you enjoyed your own company last night.”
She gasped and glared at him, hoping like hell she hadn’t turned every shade of red. “You—you butthead.”
He grinned. “Butthead, huh?”
“As if you didn’t get your rocks off.” She’d really hoped he wouldn’t bring up last night. At the time she’d been so turned on, she hadn’t cared about the proverbial morning after. But even as she’d gotten dressed earlier for the reception, several flashbacks had had her cringing.
Eric laughed. “Hey, no denying it here. I think we should do that every night. That we’re not together, that is,” he said, taking a nip at her earlobe.
She bit her lip. Who knew how much longer that would be? A good reason to quit talking and get down to business, she decided and trailed her finger over the tip of his penis, spreading the thick drop of moisture she found there.
That got his attention. He sucked in a breath and leaned back. She lowered her head and drew him into her mouth, flicking her tongue over the ridge she knew was especially sensitive. His thigh muscles tightened beneath her palms and his moan came out a strangled cry.
“Wait,” he said, his breathing labored.
She shook her head and sucked him in deeper.
“Dallas. Please.”
She smiled and ignored him.
“Dallas.”
She had no intention of stopping, and he must have gotten it because he lay back and moaned, his thigh muscles bunching beneath her right hand. He was so big and hard, she had trouble manipulating him with her tongue, but that didn’t seem to faze him. He threaded his fingers through her hair as his entire body shuddered and he cried out her name.
Never had she experienced such a rush of power and excitement. And satisfaction. Contentment. The whole thing scared her to death. This was only supposed to be about sex. Fulfilling a fantasy. She wasn’t supposed to want to crawl inside him and stay forever.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“YO, DALLAS, YOU READY FOR LUNCH?” Tony stood on the scaffolding two stories above her, clearly not giving a damn that all the other guys heard him cavorting with the enemy. God bless him.
She shaded her eyes to look up at him. “Give me ten minutes, okay?”
“No problem. It’ll probably take me that long to clean up Buddy’s mess.”
“Screw you, St. Angelo.” Buddy threw down his work gloves and grabbed his lunch pail.
“Have a nice lunch,” Tony called after him. “Don’t hurry back.”
Several feet away from Dallas the new guy doing the finishing work on the lobby banister started laughing. Nobody else did. At least not out loud. Most of them at one time or another had been the target of Buddy’s vicious temper.
Not Tony, though. For some reason Buddy steered clear of him, even though Tony sometimes goaded him mercilessly. No one knew why, and Tony wouldn’t say. The funny thing was everyone figured Buddy had some connection to either one of the higher-ups or the union bosses. His work was sloppy and his attendance poor. He should have been fired years ago.
That’s the kind of thing that really infuriated Dallas. Most of the women she knew worked twice as hard so they weren’t singled out. And then jerks like Buddy skated by for years.
Yesterday and today had been good days. No traffic duty, and Dallas had gotten to work indoors. It helped, too, that she spent most of the time daydreaming of Eric. Twice she’d had to jerk herself back to reality to keep from sanding off the rest of her pathetically short fingernails.
For the first time, she’d forgotten to bring her work gloves. Hardly a surprise considering she hadn’t gotten home until four in the morning. Amazing she wasn’t a wreck. Sure made concentration difficult.
“Ready?”
She looked up at Tony. “Has it been ten minutes already?”
“Twelve, and I’m starving.” He handed her Aladdin lunch pail to her and inclined his head toward the unfinished railing she’d been sanding. “This will be here when you get back.”
She sighed. “Much to my delight.”
“Where are your gloves?”
“I forgot them.”
He frowned at her hands. “You should keep a spare in your lunch pail. I have one but it won’t fit you. Especially not for this kind of close work.”
“Not a big deal,” she said, shrugging and heading toward the door that led to the park where they always ate. Well, not really a park—more a triangle of grass with two trees and a couple of benches where mothers stopped with their strollers to chat over a cup of coffee.
Tony followed, saying nothing, until they got to the park and sat on the grass under a pine tree. Then he took one of her hands and inspected it. Lots of skin tears, and two knuckles on her right hand were scraped and bleeding a little.
She winced. Damn it. They looked like hell, and it was a big deal. Eric would… She put the brakes on her wayward thoughts. This wasn’t about Eric. If he wanted someone more glamorous, that was his problem. She couldn’t mold herself according to someone else’s plan.
But her nails and hands did look like hell.
“Hey.”
She looked at Tony.
He smiled. “It’s okay to be a girl, you know. I actually like them.”
“Don’t be a wiseass. This isn’t about that.”
He removed his hard hat and raked his fingers through his dark wavy hair. “I’ve never asked you questions, right?”
“Oh, God.”
“Relax. I’m not gonna get too personal.”
“Good.” She opened her lunch pail and got out the waterless hand wash.
He stared at her with an amused look on his face. “I had this neighbor in Queens. She moved in next door when I was about ten and she was maybe twelve or thirteen. Jenny was so damn cute. Long blond hair about your color. Blue eyes, too. And dimples…” He shook his head, smiling. “She wore her hair in braids all rolled up and tucked away because her mother wouldn’t let her cut it. And she always had a baseball cap on. Never once saw her in a dress. I doubt she owned one.”
He paused and stared at two kids playing ball. Tempted to tell him to shut up, Dallas took out a green apple and bit into the tart fruit. Obviously he was using the story as a parable because he thought it somehow applied to her. Which it clearly didn’t.
“I wasn’t interested in girls yet,” he continued, “but some of the other guys in the neighborhood kept sniffing around her. She’d get so mad, she’d call them out to the park and threaten to whip their asses. If you treated her like one of the guys, she was fine. But if—”
“Tony?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and eat your lunch.”
He laughed. “I’m just saying—”
“Don’t, okay. Besides, you got it all wrong.”
“Go ahead, straighten me out.”
She sighed. “Why do you do this job?”
He snorted. “Why do you think? Number one, I hate wearing a suit and tie. Number two, I don’t know how to do anything else.”
“Don’t give me that. How much money did you make off the last two brownstones you refurbished?”
He grinned, shrugged.
“That was a rhetorical question. I know da
mn well you had to have made more than five years’ salary working here.” She sighed and put down her apple.
“So? Why you bustin’ my chops all of a sudden? I’m on your side, remember?”
“I know. Really I do.” She and Tony were a lot more alike than she’d thought, she just realized. Both restless. Both wanting something a little more but not ready to cave in or sell out.
He was much more ambitious than he’d ever admit. She was probably the only one who knew, but four years ago he’d bought a foreclosed brownstone, lived in it while he’d renovated it and then sold it for a hefty profit before moving on to the next one and starting over.
Shaking his head and frowning, he unwrapped his sandwich. “I think you need to get laid.”
A strangled laugh escaped her and she punched his arm. If he only knew… “Now you sound just like the rest of them.”
“That was low, Shea, really low.”
“You asked for it.” She stared at her half-eaten apple, tempted to tell Tony about Eric. But really, what kind of advice could Tony give her? Besides, then she’d have to confess her lie. No, not a lie. Her pretense. She winced. Fantasy had a better ring. Either way it sounded awful.
Besides, there was more on her mind than Eric lately. Like how tired she was getting of the job, of having to wash her hair three times every night to get the dust out. She’d made her point with her parents by now. And she’d paid off most of her debts and started saving some money. Maybe it was time to start looking for something else. Possibly even put her business degree to some use.
Of course, her restlessness had nothing to do with Eric and the fact that he most likely came from some upper-crust Philadelphia family who’d expected more of their son than to date a construction worker. Nor did it have anything to do with how much she’d been enjoying the dressing up and evenings out. It was just time to move on. That’s all. Nothing more.
Tony grunted. “Quit with the long face. Let’s move to neutral ground. Tell me about the meeting.”
She looked blankly at him. “That was Tuesday.”